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CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 1924 075 867 089 
 
5317 
 

GUY MANNERING. 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
4 
 
GUY MANNERING 
 
 OR 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER 
 
 EY 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 WITH STEEL PLATES FROM DESIGNS BY 
 
 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, J. M. W. TURNER, AND 
 OTHER ARTISTS 
 
 NEW EDITION, WITH THE AUTHORS NOTES, 
 
 LONDON and NEW YORK 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS 
 
 187S 
 
LONDON' : 
 BRADBUKY, AGNEW, & CO., PBINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The Novel or Romance of Waverley made its way to the 
 public slowly, of course, at first, but afterwards with such accumu- 
 lating popularity as to encourage the author to a second attempt. 
 He looked about for a name and a subject ; and the manner in 
 which the novels were composed cannot be better illustrated than 
 by reciting the simple narrative on which Guy Mannering was 
 originally founded ; but to which, in the progress of the work, the 
 production ceased to bear any, even the most distant, resemblance. 
 The tale was originally told me by an old servant of my father's, 
 an excellent old Highlander, without a fault, unless a preference 
 to mountain-dew over less potent liquors be accounted one. He 
 believed as firmly in the story, as in any part of his creed. 
 
 A grave and elderly person, according to old John MacKinlay's 
 account, while travelling in the wilder parts of Galloway, was be- 
 nighted. With difficulty he found his way to a country-seat, where, 
 with the hospitality of the time and country, he was readily ad- 
 mitted. The owner of the house, a gentleman of good fortune, was 
 much struck by the reverend appearance of his guest, and apolo- 
 gized to him for a certain degree of confusion which must unavoid- 
 ably attend his reception, and could not escape his eye. The lady 
 of the house was, he said, confined to her apartment and on the 
 point of making her husband a father for the first time, though 
 they had been ten years married. At such an emergency, the Laird 
 said, he feared his guest might meet with some apparent neglect. 
 
 " Not so, sir," said the stranger ; " my wants are few, and easily 
 supplied, and I trust the present circumstances may even afford an 
 opportunity of showing my gratitude for your hospitality. Let me 
 only request that I may be informed of the exact minute of the 
 birth ; and I hope to be able to put you in possession of some par- 
 ticulars, which may influence, in an important manner, the future 
 prospects of the child now about to come into this busy and change- 
 ful world. I will not conceal from you that I am skilful in under- 
 standing and interpreting the movements of those planetary bodies 
 which exert their influences on the destiny of mortals. It is a 
 science which I do not practise, like others who call ihemselves 
 
6 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 astrologers, for hire or reward ; for I have a competent estate, and 
 only use the knowledge I possess for the benefit of those in whom 
 I feel an interest." The Laird bowed in respect and gratitude, 
 and the stranger was accommodated with an apartment which 
 commanded an ample view of the astral regions. 
 
 The guest spent a part of the night in ascertaining the position 
 of the heavenly bodies, and calculating their probable influence ; 
 until at length the result of his observations induced him to send 
 for the father, and conjure him, in the most solemn manner, to 
 cause the assistants to retard the birth, if practicable, were it but 
 for five minutes. The answer declared this to be impossible ; and 
 almost in the instant that the message was returned, the father and 
 his guest were made acquainted with the birth of a boy. 
 
 The Astrologer on the morrow met the party who gathered 
 around the breakfast table, with looks so grave and ominous, as to 
 alarm the fears of the father, who had hitherto exulted in the 
 prospects held out by the birth of an heir to his ancient property, 
 failing which event it must have passed to a distant branch of the 
 family. He hastened to draw the stranger into a private room. 
 
 " I fear from your looks," said the father, " that you have bad 
 tidings to tell me of my young stranger : perhaps God will re- 
 sume the blessing he has bestowed ere he attains the age of 
 manhood ? or perhaps he is destined to be unworthy of the 
 affection which we are naturally disposed to devote to our off- 
 spring ? " 
 
 " Neither the one nor the other," answered the stranger : " unless 
 my judgment greatly err, the infant will survive the years of mi- 
 nority, and in temper and disposition will prove all that his parents 
 can wish. But with much in his horoscope which promises many 
 blessings, there is one evil influence strongly predominant, which 
 threatens to subject him to an unhallowed and unhappy temptation 
 about the time when he shall attain the age of twenty-one, which 
 period, the constellations intimate, will be the crisis of his fate. In 
 what shape, or with what peculiar urgency, this temptation may 
 beset him, my art cannot discover." 
 
 "Your knowledge, then, can afford us no defence," said the 
 anxious father, " against the threatened evil ? " 
 
 " Pardon me," answered the stranger, " it can. The influence of 
 the constellations is powerful ; but He, who made the heavens, is 
 ;nore powerful than all, if his aid be invoked in sincerity and 
 truth. You ought to dedicate this boy to the immediate service of 
 his Maker, with as much sincerity as Samuel was devoted to the 
 worship in the Temple by his parents. You must regard him as a 
 being separated from the rest of the world. In childhood, in boy- 
 
INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. f 
 
 hood, you must surround him with the pious and virtuous, and 
 protect him, to the utmost of your power, from the sight or hearing 
 of any crime, in word or action. He must be educated in religious 
 and moral principles of the strictest description. Let him not enter 
 the world, lest he learn to partake of its follies, or perhaps of its 
 vices. In short, preserve him as far as possible from all sin, save 
 that of which too great a portion belongs to all the fallen race of 
 Adam. With the approach of his twenty-first birthday comes the 
 crisis of his fate. If he survive it, he will be happy and prosperous 
 on earth, and a chosen vessel among those elected for heaven. 
 
 But if it be otherwise " The Astrologer stopped, and sighed 
 
 deeply. 
 
 " Sir," replied the parent, still more alarmed than before, " your 
 words are so kind, your advice so serious, that I will pay the 
 deepest attention to your behests ; but can you Jiot aid me farther 
 in this most important concern? Believe me, I will not be un- 
 grateful." 
 
 " I require and deserve no gratitude for doing a good action," 
 said the stranger, " in especial for contributing all that lies in my 
 power to save from an abhorred fate the harmless infant to whom, 
 under a singular conjunction of planets, last night gave life. There 
 is my address ; you may write to me from time to time concerning 
 the progress of the boy in religious knowledge. If he be bred up 
 as I advise, I think it will be best that he come to my house at the 
 time when the fatal and decisive period approaches, that is, before 
 he has attained his twenty-first year complete. If you send him 
 such as I desire, I humbly trust that God will protect his own, 
 through whatever strong temptation his fate may subject him to." 
 He then gave his host his address, which was a country-seat near 
 a post-town in the south of England, and bid him an affectionate 
 farewell. 
 
 The mysterious stranger departed, but his words remained im- 
 pressed upon the mind of the anxious parent. He lost his lady 
 while his boy was still in infancy. This calamity, I think, had 
 been predicted by the Astrologer ; and thus his confidence, which, 
 like most people of the period, he had freely given to the science, 
 was riveted and confirmed. The utmost care, therefore, was taken 
 to carry into effect the severe and almost ascetic plan of education 
 which the sage had enjoined. A tutor of the strictest principles 
 was employed to superintend the youth's education ; he was sur- 
 rounded by domestics of the most established character, and closely 
 watched and looked after by the anxious father himself. 
 
 The. years of infancy, childhood, and boyhood, passed as the 
 father could have wished. A young Nazarene could not have been 
 
8 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 bred up with more rigour. All that was evil was withheld from his 
 observation ; — he only heard what was pure in precept— he only 
 witnessed what was worthy in practice. 
 
 But when the boy began to be lost in the youth, the attentive 
 father saw cause for alarm. Shades of sadness, which gradually 
 assumed a darker character, began to overcloud the young man's 
 temper. Tears, which seemed involuntary, broken sleep, moonlight 
 wanderings, and a melancholy for which he could assign no reason, 
 seemed to threaten at once his bodily health, and the stability of 
 his mind. The Astrologer was consulted by letter, and returned 
 for answer, that this fitful state of mind was but the commencement 
 of his trial, and that the poor youth must undergo more and more 
 desperate struggles with the evil that assailed him. There was no- 
 hope of remedy, save that he showed steadiness of mind in the 
 study of the Scriptures. " He suffers," continued the letter of the 
 sage, " from the awakening of those harpies, the passions, which 
 have slept with him as with others, till the period of life which he 
 has now attained. Better, far better, that they torment him by 
 ungrateful cravings, than that he should have to repent having 
 satiated them by criminal indulgence." 
 
 The dispositions of the young man were so excellent, that he 
 combated, by reason and religion, the fits of gloom which at times- 
 overcast his mind, and it was not till he attained the commence- 
 ment of his twenty-first year, that they assumed a character which 
 made his father tremble for the consequences. It seemed as if the 
 gloomiest and most hideous of mental maladies was taking the 
 form of religious despair. Still the youth was gentle, courteous, 
 affectionate, and submissive to his father's will, and resisted with 
 all his power the dark suggestions which were breathed into his 
 mind, as it seemed, by some emanation of the Evil Principle, 
 exhorting him, like the wicked wife of Job, to curse God 
 and die. 
 
 The time at length arrived when he was to perform what was 
 then thought a long and somewhat perilous journey, to the man- 
 sion of the early friend who had calculated his nativity. His road 
 lay through several places of interest, and he enjoyed the amuse- 
 ment of travelling, more than he himself thought would have been 
 possible. Thus he did not reach the place of his destination till 
 noon, on the day preceding his birth-day. It seemed as if he 
 had been carried away with an unwonted tide of pleasurable sensa- 
 tion, so as to forget, in some degree, what his father had communi- 
 cated concerning the purpose of his journey. He halted at length 
 before a respectable but solitary old mansion, to which he was 
 directed as the abode of his father's friend. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 9 
 
 The servants who came to take his horse told him he had been 
 expected for two days. He was led into a study, where the 
 stranger, now a venerable old man, who had been his father's 
 guest, met him with a shade of displeasure, as well as gravity, on 
 his brow. " Young man," he said, " wherefore so slow on a journey 
 of such importance?" — "I thought," replied the guest, blushing 
 and looking downward, "that there was no harm in travelling 
 slowly, and satisfying my curiosity, providing I could reach your 
 residence by this day ; for such was my father's charge."—" You 
 were to blame," replied the sage, " in lingering, considering that 
 the avenger of blood was pressing on your footsteps. But you are 
 come at last, and we will hope for the best, though the conflict in 
 which you are to be engaged will be found more dreadful the longer 
 it is postponed. But first, accept of such refreshments as nature 
 requires to satisfy, but not to pamper, the appetite." 
 
 The old man led the way into a summer parlour, where a frugal 
 meal was placed on the table. As they sat down to the board, they 
 were joined by a young lady about eighteen years of age, and so 
 lovely, that the sight of her carried off the feelings of the young 
 stranger from the peculiarity and mystery of his own lot, and 
 riveted his attention to everything she did or said. She spoke 
 little, and it was on the most serious subjects. She played on the 
 harpsichord at her father's command, but it was hymns with which 
 she accompanied the instrument. At length, on a sign from the 
 sage, she left the room, turning on the young stranger, as she 
 departed, a look of inexpressible anxiety and interest. 
 
 The old man then conducted the youth to his study, and con- 
 versed with him upon the most important points of religion, to 
 satisfy himself that he could render a reason for the faith that was 
 in him. During the examination, the youth, in spite of himself, 
 felt his mind occasionally wander, and his recollections go in quest 
 of the beautiful vision who had shared their meal at noon. On 
 such occasions the Astrologer looked grave, and shook his head at 
 this relaxation of attention ; yet, on the whole, he was pleased with 
 the youth's replies. 
 
 At sunset the young man was made to take the bath ; and, 
 having done so, he was directed to attire himself in a robe some- 
 what like that worn by Armenians, having his long hair combed 
 down on his shoulders, and his neck, hands, and feet bare. In this 
 guise he was conducted into a remote chamber totally devoid of 
 furniture, excepting a lamp, a chair, and a table on which lay a 
 Bible. " Here," said the Astrologer, " I must leave you alone, to 
 pass the most critical period of your life. If you can, by recol- 
 lection of the great truths of which we have spoken, repel the 
 
10 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERINO. 
 
 attacks which will be made on your courage and your principles, 
 you have nothing to apprehend. But the trial will be severe and 
 arduous." His features then assumed a pathetic solemnity, the 
 tears stood in his eyes, and his voice faltered with emotion as he 
 said, " Dear child, at whose coming into the world I foresaw this 
 fatal trial, may God give thee grace to support it with firmness ! " 
 
 The young man was left alone ; and hardly did he find himself 
 so, when, like a swarm of demons, the recollection of all his sins 
 of omission and commission, rendered even more terrible by the 
 scrupulousness with which he had been educated, rushed on his 
 mind, and, like furies armed with fiery scourges, seemed deter- 
 mined to drivd him to despair. As he combated these horrible 
 recollections with distracted feelings, but with a resolved mind, he 
 became aware that his arguments were answered by the sophistry 
 of another, and that the dispute was no longer confined to his own 
 thoughts. The Author of Evil was present in the room with him 
 in bodily shape, and, potent with spirits of a melancholy cast, was 
 impressing upon him the desperation of his state, and urging 
 suicide as the readiest mode to put an end to his sinful career. 
 Amid his errors, the pleasure he had taken in prolonging his 
 journey unnecessarily, and the attention which he had bestowed on 
 the beauty of the fair female, when his thoughts ought to have 
 been dedicated to the religious discourse of her father, were set 
 before him in the darkest colours ; and he was treated as one who, 
 having sinned against light, was therefore deservedly left a prey to 
 the Prince of Darkness. 
 
 As the fated and influential hour rolled on, the terrors of the 
 hateful Presence grew more confounding to the mortal senses of the 
 victim, and the knot of the accursed sophistry became more inex- 
 tricable in appearance, at least to the prey whom its meshes sur- 
 rounded. He had not power to explain the assurance of pardon 
 which he continued to assert, or to name the victorious name in 
 which he trusted. But his faith did not abandon him, though he 
 lacked for a time the power of expressing it. " Say what you will," 
 was his answer to the Tempter, " I know there is as much betwixt 
 the two boards of this Book as can insure me forgiveness for my 
 transgressions, and safety for my soul." As he spoke, the clock, 
 which announced the lapse of the fatal hour, was heard to strike. 
 The speech and intellectual powers of the youth were instantly and 
 fully restored ; he burst forth into prayer, and expressed, in the 
 most glowing terms, his reliance on the truth and on the Author of 
 the gospel. The demon retired, yelling and discomfited, and the 
 old man, entering the apartment, with tears congratulated his 
 guest on his victory in the fated struggle. 
 
INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. u 
 
 The young man was afterwards married to the beautiful maiden, 
 the first sight of whom had made such an impression on him, and 
 they were consigned over at the close of the story to domestic 
 happiness. — So ended John MacKinlay's legend. 
 
 The author of Waverley had imagined a possibility of framing 
 an interesting, and perhaps not an unedifying, tale, out of the 
 incidents of the life of a doomed individual, whose efforts at good 
 and virtuous conduct were to be for ever disappointed by the inter- 
 vention, as it were, of some malevolent being, and who was at last 
 to come off victorious from the fearful struggle. In short, some- 
 thing was meditated upon a plan resembling the imaginative tale 
 of Sintram and his Companions, by Mons. Le Baron de la Motte 
 Fouque", although, if it then existed, the author had not seen it. 
 
 The scheme projected may be traced in the three or four first 
 chapters of the work, but farther consideration induced the author 
 to lay his purpose aside. It appeared, on mature consideration, 
 that Astrology, though its influence was once received and ad- 
 mitted by Bacon himself, does not now retain influence over the 
 general mind sufficient even to constitute the mainspring of a 
 romance. Besides, it occurred, that to do justice to such a subject 
 would have required not only more talent than the author could be 
 conscious of possessing, but also involved doctrines and discus- 
 sions of a nature too serious for his purpose and for the character 
 of the narrative. In changing his plan, however, which was done 
 in the course of printing, the early sheets retained the vestiges of 
 the original tenor of the story, although they now hang upon it as 
 an unnecessary and unnatural incumbrance. The cause of such 
 vestiges occurring is now explained and apologized for. 
 
 It is here worthy of observation, that while the astrological 
 doctrines have fallen into general contempt, and been supplanted 
 by superstitions of a more gross and far less beautiful character, 
 they have, even in modern days, retained some votaries. 
 
 One of the most remarkable believers in that forgotten and 
 despised science was a late eminent professor of the art of leger- 
 demain. One would have thought that a person of this description 
 ought, from his knowledge of the thousand ways in which human 
 eyes could be deceived, to have been less than others subject to 
 the fantasies of superstition. Perhaps the habitual use of those 
 abstruse calculations, by which, in a manner surprising to the 
 artist himself, many tricks upon cards, &c, are performed, induced 
 this gentleman to study the combination of the stars and planets, 
 with the expectation of obtaining prophetic communications. 
 
 He constructed a scheme of his own nativity, calculated accord- 
 ing to such rules of art as he could collect from the best astrological 
 
12 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 authors. The result of the past he found agreeable to what had 
 hitherto befallen him, but in the important prospect of the future a 
 singular difficulty occurred. There were two years, during the 
 course of which he could by no means obtain any exact knowledge 
 whether the subject of the scheme would be dead or alive. 
 Anxious concerning so remarkable a circumstance, he gave the 
 scheme to a brother Astrologer, who was also baffled in the same 
 manner. At one period he found the native, or subject, was 
 certainly alive, at another, that he was unquestionably dead ; 
 but a space of two years extended between these two terms, 
 during which he could find no certainty as to his death or 
 existence. 
 
 The Astrologer marked the remarkable circumstance in his 
 Diary, and continued his exhibitions in various parts of the 
 empire, until the period was about to expire, during which his 
 existence had been warranted as actually ascertained. At last, 
 while he was exhibiting to a numerous audience his usual tricks of 
 legerdemain, the hands, whose activity had so often baffled the 
 closest observer, suddenly lost their power, the cards dropped from 
 them, and he sunk down a disabled paralytic. In this state the 
 artist languished for two years, when he was at length removed by 
 death. It is said that the Diary of this modern Astrologer will 
 soon be given to the public. 
 
 The fact, if truly reported, is one of those singular coincidences 
 which occasionally appear, differing so widely from ordinary 
 calculation, yet without which irregularities human life would not 
 present to mortals looking into futurity the abyss of impenetrable 
 darkness which it is the pleasure of the Creator it should offer to 
 them. Were everything to happen in the ordinary train of events, 
 the future would be subject to the rules of arithmetic, like the 
 chances of gaming. But extraordinary events, and wonderful runs 
 of luck, defy the calculations of mankind, and throw impenetrable 
 darkness on future contingencies. 
 
 To the above anecdote, another, still more recent, may be here 
 added. The author was lately honoured with a letter from a 
 gentleman deeply skilled in these mysteries, who kindly undertook 
 to calculate the nativity of the writer of Guy Mannering, who 
 might be supposed to be friendly to the divine art which he pro- 
 fessed. But it was impossible to supply data for the construction 
 of a horoscope, had the native been otherwise desirous of it, since 
 all those who could supply the minutias of day, hour, and minute 
 have been long removed from the mortal sphere. 
 
 Having thus given some account of the first idea, or rude sketch 
 of the story, which was soon departed from, the author, in following 
 
INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 13 
 
 out the plan of the present edition, has to mention the prototypes 
 of the principal characters in Guy Mannering. 
 
 Some circumstances of local situation gave the author, in his 
 youth, an opportunity of seeing a little, and hearing a great deal, 
 about that degraded class who are called gipsies ; who are in most 
 cases a mixed race, between the ancient Egyptians who arrived in 
 Europe about the beginning of the fifteenth century, and vagrants 
 of European descent. 
 
 The individual gipsy upon whom the character of Meg Merrilies 
 was founded, was well known about the middle of the last century, 
 by the name of Jean Gordon, an inhabitant of the village of Kirk 
 Yetholm, in the Cheviot hills, adjoining to the English Border. 
 The author gave the public some account of this remarkable per- 
 son, in one of the early Numbers of Blackwood's Magazine, to the 
 following purpose : — 
 
 " My father remembered old Jean Gordon of Yetholm, who had 
 great sway among her tribe. She was quite a Meg Merrilies, and 
 possessed the savage virtue of fidelity in the same perfection. 
 Having been often hospitably received at the farmhouse of Loch- 
 side, near Yetholm, she had carefully abstained from committing 
 any depredations on the farmer's property. But her sons (nine in 
 number) had not, it seems, the same delicacy, and stole a brood- 
 sow from their kind entertainer. Jean was mortified at this un- 
 grateful conduct, and so much ashamed of it, that she absented 
 herself from Lochside for several years. 
 
 " It happened, in course of time, that in consequence of some 
 temporary pecuniary necessity, the Goodman of Lochside was 
 obliged to go to Newcastle to raise some money to pay his rent. 
 He succeeded in his purpose, but returning through the mountains 
 of Cheviot, he was benighted and lost his way. 
 
 " A light, glimmering through the window of a large waste barn, 
 which had survived the farmhouse to which it had once belonged, 
 guided him to a place of shelter ; and when he knocked at the 
 door, it was opened by Jean Gordon. Her very remarkable figure, 
 for she was nearly six feet high, and her equally remarkable 
 features and dress, rendered it impossible to mistake her for a 
 moment, though he had not seen her for years ; and to meet with 
 such a character in so solitary a place, and probably at no great 
 distance from her clan, was a grievous surprise to the poor man, 
 whose rent (to lose which would have been ruin) was about his 
 person. 
 
 " Jean set up a loud shout of joyful recognition — ' Eh, sirs ! the 
 winsome Gudeman of Lochside ! Light down, light down ; for ye 
 mauna gang farther the night, and a friend's house sae near.' The 
 
14 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 farmer was obliged to dismount aiid accept of the gipsy's offer of 
 supper and a bed. There was plenty of meat in the barn, however it 
 might be come by, and preparations were going on for a plentiful 
 repast, which the farmer, to the great increase of his anxiety, 
 observed, was calculated for ten or twelve guests, of the same 
 description, probably, with his landlady. 
 
 " Jean left him in no doubt on the subject. She brought to his 
 recollection the story of the stolen sow, and mentioned how much 
 pain and vexation it had given her. Like other philosophers, she 
 remarked that the world grew worse daily ; and, like other parents, 
 that the bairns got out of her guiding, and neglected the old gipsy 
 regulations, which commanded them to respect, in their depreda- 
 tions, the property of their benefactors. The end of all this was, an 
 inquiry what money the farmer had about him, and an urgent 
 request or command that he would make her his purse-keeper, 
 since the bairns, as she called her sons, would be soon home. The 
 poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story, and surren- 
 dered his gold to Jean's custody. She made him put a few shillings 
 in his pocket, observing it would excite suspicion should he be 
 found travelling altogether penniless. 
 
 " This arrangement being made, the farmer lay down on a sort of 
 shake-down, as the Scotch call it, or bed-clothes disposed upon 
 some straw, but, as will easily be believed, slept not. 
 
 " About midnight the gang returned, with various articles of 
 plunder, and talked over their exploits in language which made the 
 farmer tremble. They were not long in discovering they had a 
 guest, and demanded of Jean whom she had got there. 
 
 " ' E'en the winsome Gudeman of Lochside, poor body/ replied 
 Jean ; 'he's been at Newcastle seeking siller to pay his rent, honest 
 man, but deil-be-lickit he's been able to gather in, and sae he's 
 gaun e'en hame wi' a toom purse and a sair heart.' 
 
 " ' That may be, Jean,' replied one of the banditti, ' but we maun 
 ripe his pouches a bit, and see if the tale be true or no.' Jean set 
 up her throat in exclamations against this breach of hospitality, but 
 without producing any change in their determination. The farmer 
 soon heard their stifled whispers and light steps by his bedside, and 
 understood they were rummaging his clothes. When they found 
 the money which the providence of Jean Gordon had made him 
 retain, they held a consultation if they should take it or no ; but the 
 smallness of the booty, and the vehemence of Jean's remonstrances, 
 determined them in the negative. They caroused and went to 
 rest. As soon as day dawned, Jean roused her guest, produced 
 his horse, which she had accommodated behind the hallan, and 
 guided him for some miles, till he was on the high road to Loch- 
 
INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. is 
 
 side. She then restored his whole property, nor could his earnest 
 entreaties prevail on her to accept so much as a single guinea. 
 
 " I have heard the old people at Jedburgh say, that all Jean's 
 sons were condemned to die there on the same day. It is said the 
 jury were equally divided, but that a friend to justice, who had 
 slept during the whole discussion, waked suddenly, and gave 
 his vote for condemnation, in the emphatic words, ' Hang them 
 a' / ' Unanimity is not required in a Scottish jury, so the verdict 
 of guilty was returned. Jean was present, and only said, ' The 
 Lord help the innocent in a day like this ! ' Her own death was 
 accompanied with circumstances of brutal outrage, of which poor 
 Jean was in many respects wholly undeserving. She had, among 
 other demerits, or merits, as the reader may choose to rank it, that 
 of being a stanch Jacobite. She chanced to be at Carlisle upon a 
 fair or market-day, soon after the year 1746, where she gave vent 
 to her political partiality, to the great offence of the rabble of that 
 city. Being zealous in their loyalty, when there was no danger, in 
 proportion to the tameness with which they had surrendered to the 
 Highlanders in 1745, the mob inflicted upon poor Jean Gordon no 
 slighter penalty than that of ducking her to death in the Eden. It 
 was an operation of some time, for Jean was a stout woman, and, 
 struggling with her murderers, often got her head above water ; 
 and, while she had voice left, continued to exclaim at such intervals, 
 ' Charlie yet ! Charlie yet ! ' When a child, and among the scenes 
 which she frequented, I have often heard these stories, and cried 
 piteously for poor Jean Gordon. 
 
 " Before quitting the Border gipsies, I may mention, that my 
 grandfather, while riding over Charterhouse moor, then a very ex- 
 tensive common, fell suddenly among a large band of them, who 
 were carousing in a hollow of the moor, surrounded by bushes. 
 They instantly seized on his horse's bridle with many shouts of 
 welcome, exclaiming (for he was well known to most of them) that 
 they had often dined at his expense, and he must now stay and 
 share their good cheer. My ancestor was a little alarmed, for, like 
 the Goodman of Lochside, he had more money about his person 
 than he cared to risk in such society. However, being naturally a 
 bold lively-spirited man, he entered into the humour of the thing, 
 and sate down to the feast, which consisted of all the varieties of 
 game, poultry, pigs, and so forth, that could be collected by a wide 
 and indiscriminate system of plunder. The dinner was a very 
 merry one ; but my relative got a hint from some of the older 
 gipsies to retire just when — 
 
 ' The mirth and fun grew fast and furious,' 
 
i6 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 and mounting his horse, accordingly, he took a French leave of his 
 entertainers, but without experiencing the least breach of hos- 
 pitality. I believe Jean Gordon was at this festival." — (Blackwood's 
 Magazine, vol. i. p. 54.) 
 
 Notwithstanding the failure of Jean's issue, for which, 
 
 ' Weary fa' the waefu' wuddie,' 
 
 a grand-daughter survived her whom I remember to have seen. 
 That is, as Dr. Johnson had a shadowy recollection of Queen Anne, 
 as a stately lady in black, adorned with diamonds, so my memory 
 is haunted by a solemn remembrance of a woman of more than 
 female height, dressed in a long red cloak, who commenced ac- 
 quaintance by giving me an apple, but whom, nevertheless, I looked 
 on with as much awe, as the future Doctor, High Church and Tory 
 as he was doomed to be, could look upon the Queen. I conceive 
 this woman to have been Madge Gordon, of whom an impressive 
 account is given in the same article in which her Mother Jean is 
 mentioned, but not by the present writer : — 
 
 " The late Madge Gordon was at this time accounted the Queen 
 of the Yetholm clans. She was, we believe, a grand-daughter of 
 the celebrated Jean Gordon, and was said to have much resembled 
 her in appearance. The following account of her is extracted from 
 the letter of a friend, who for many years enjoyed frequent and 
 favourable opportunities of observing the characteristic peculiarities 
 of the Yetholm tribes : — ' Madge Gordon was descended from the 
 Faas by the mother's side, and was married to a Young. She was 
 a remarkable personage — of a very commanding presence, and 
 high stature, being nearly six feet high. She had a large aquiline 
 nose, — penetrating eyes, even in her old age, — bushy hair, that hung 
 around her shoulders from beneath a gipsy bonnet of straw, — a 
 short cloak of a peculiar fashion, and a long staff nearly as tall 
 as herself. I remember her well ; — every week she paid my father 
 a visit for her awmons, when I was a little boy, and I looked upon 
 Madge with no common degree of awe and terror. When she spoke 
 vehemently (for she made loud complaints), she used to strike her 
 staff upon the floor, and throw herself into an attitude which it was 
 impossible to regard with indifference. She used to say that she 
 could bring from the remotest part of the island friends to revenge 
 her quarrel while she sat motionless in her cottage ; and she fre- 
 quently boasted that there was a time when she was of still more 
 considerable importance, for there were at her wedding fifty saddled 
 asses, and unsaddled asses without number. If Jean Gordon was 
 the prototype of the character of Meg Merrilies, I imagine Madge 
 
INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 17 
 
 must have sat to the unknown author as the representative of her 
 person.'" — {Blackwood's Magazine, vol. i. p. 56.) 
 
 How far Blackwood's ingenious correspondent was right, how far 
 mistaken in his conjecture, the reader has been informed. 
 
 To pass to a character of a very different description, Dominie 
 Sampson, the reader may easily suppose that a poor modest 
 humble scholar, who has won his way through the classics, yet has 
 fallen to leeward in the voyage of life, is no uncommon personage 
 in a country where a certain portion of learning is easily attained 
 by those who are willing to surfer hunger and thirst in exchange for 
 acquiring Greek and Latin. But there is a far more exact proto- 
 type of the worthy Dominie, upon which is founded the part which 
 he performs in the romance, and which, for certain particular 
 reasons, must be expressed very generally. 
 
 Such a preceptor as Mr. Sampson is supposed to have been, was 
 actually tutor in the family of a gentleman of considerable property. 
 The young lads, his pupils, grew up and went out in the world ; 
 but the tutor continued to reside in the family, no uncommon cir- 
 cumstance in Scotland (in former days), where food and shelter 
 were readily afforded to humble friends and dependents. The 
 Laird's predecessors had been imprudent ; he himself was passive 
 and unfortunate. Death swept away his sons, whose success in 
 life might have balanced his own bad luck and incapacity. Debts 
 increased and funds diminished, until ruin came. The estate was 
 sold ; and the old man was about to remove from the house of his 
 fathers to go he knew not whither, when, like an old piece of furni- 
 ture, which, left alone in its wonted corner, may hold together for a 
 long while, but breaks to pieces on an attempt to move it, he fell 
 down on his own threshold under a paralytic affection. 
 
 The tutor awakened as from a dream. He saw his patron dead, 
 and that his patron's only remaining child, an elderly woman, now 
 neither graceful nor beautiful, if she had ever been either the one 
 or the other, had by this calamity become a homeless and penniless 
 orphan. He addressed her nearly in the words which Dominie 
 Sampson uses to Miss Bertram, and professed his determination 
 not to leave her. Accordingly, roused to the exercise of talents 
 which had long slumbered, he opened a little school, and supported 
 his patron's child for the rest of her life, treating her with the same 
 humble observance and devoted attention which he had used 
 towards her in the days of her prosperity. 
 
 Such is the outline of Dominie Sampson's real story, in which 
 there is neither romantic incident nor sentimental passion ; but 
 which, perhaps, from the rectitude and simplicity of character 
 which it displays, may interest the heart and fill the eye of the 
 
18 INTRODUCTION TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 reader as irresistibly, as if it respected distresses of a more digni- 
 fied or refined character, 
 
 These preliminary notices concerning the taje of Guy Manner- 
 ing, and some of the characters introduced, may save the author 
 and reader, in the present instance, the trouble of writing and 
 perusing a long string of detached notes. 
 
 Abbotsford, 
 
 August i, 1829. 
 
 [Kf* That the text be not cumbered, the notes, which are nume- 
 rous and valuable, will be found at the close of the text, an asterisk 
 appearing in the page to call attention to them. — A. MJ 
 
GUY MANNERING; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ASTROLOGER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 He could not deny, that looking round upon the dreary region, and 
 seeing nothing but bleak fields, and naked trees, hills obscured 
 by fogs, and flats covered with inundations, he did for some time 
 suffer melancholy to prevail upon him, and wished himself again 
 safe at home. Travels of Will. Marvel, Idler, No. 49. 
 
 It was the beginning of the month of November 17 — , when a 
 young English gentleman, who had just left the University of 
 Oxford, made use of the liberty afforded him, to visit some parts of 
 the north of England ; and curiosity extended his tour into the 
 adjacent frontier of the sister country. He had visited, on the day 
 that opens our history, some monastic ruins in the county of Dum- 
 fries, and spent much of the day in making drawings of them from 
 different points ; so that, on mounting his horse to resume his 
 journey, the brief and gloomy twilight of the season had already 
 commenced. His way lay through a wide tract of black moss, 
 extending for miles on each side and before him. Little eminences 
 arose like little islands on its surface, bearing here and there patches 
 of corn, which even at this season was green, and sometimes a hut, 
 or farm-house, shaded by a willow or two, and surrounded by large 
 elder-bushes. These insulated dwellings communicated with each 
 other by winding passages through the moss, impassable by any 
 but the natives themselves. The public road, however, was tolerably 
 well made and safe, so that the prospect of being benighted brought 
 with it no real danger. Still it is uncomfortable to travel, alone 
 and in the dark, through an unknown country ; and there are few 
 ordinary occasions upon which fancy frets herself so much as in a 
 situation like that of Mannering. 
 
 As the light grew faint and more faint, and the morass appeared 
 blacker and blacker, our traveller questioned more closely each 
 
so GUY MANNERING. 
 
 chance passenger on his distance from, the village of Kippletringan, 
 where he proposed to quarter for the night. His queries were 
 usually answered by a counter-challenge respecting the place from 
 whence he came. While sufficient daylight remained to show the 
 dress and appearance of a gentleman, these cross interrogatories 
 were usually put in the form of a case supposed, as, " Ye'U hae been 
 at the auld abbey o' Halycross, sir ? there's mony English gentle- 
 men gang to see that ; " — or, " Your honour will be come frae the 
 house o' Pouderloupat ? " l But when the voice of the querist alone 
 was distinguishable, the response usually was, "Whaur are ye 
 coming frae at sic a time o' nicht as the like o' this ? " or,— " Ye'll 
 no be o' this country, freend ? " The answers, when obtained, were 
 neither very reconcilable to each other, nor accurate in the infor- 
 mation which they afforded. Kippletringan was distant at first 
 " a gey bit;" then the "gey bit" was more accurately described, as 
 " ablins three mile;" then the " three mile " diminished into " like a 
 mile anda bittockj" then extended themselves into "four mile or 
 thereawaf and, lastly, a female voice, having hushed a wailing 
 infant which the spokeswoman carried in her arms, assured Guy 
 Mannering, " It was a weary lang gate yet to Kippletringan, and 
 unco heavy road for foot passengers." The poor hack upon which 
 Mannering was mounted, was probably of opinion that it suited 
 him as ill as the female respondent; for he began to flag very 
 much, answered each application of the spur with a groan, and 
 stumbled at every stone (and they were not few) which lay in his 
 road. 
 
 Mannering now grew impatient. He was occasionally betrayed 
 into a deceitful hope that the end of his journey was near, by the 
 apparition of a twinkling light or two ; but, as he came up, he was 
 disappointed to find that the gleams proceeded from some of those 
 farm-houses which occasionally ornamented the surface of the exten- 
 sive bog. At length, to complete his perplexity, he arrived at a place 
 where the road divided into two. If there had been light to con- 
 sult the relics of a finger-post which stood there, it would have been 
 of little avail, as according to the good custom of North Britain, 
 the inscription had been defaced shortly after its erection. Our 
 adventurer was therefore compelled, like a knight-errant of old, to 
 trust to the sagacity of his horse, which, without any demur, chose 
 the left-hand path, and seemed to proceed at a somewhat livelief 
 pace than before, affording thereby a hope that he knew he was 
 drawing near to his quarters for the evening. This hope, however, 
 was not speedily accomplished, and Mannering, whose impatience 
 made every furlong seem three, began to think that Kippletringan 
 was actually retreating before him in proportion to his advance. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 21 
 
 It was now very cloudy, although the stars, from time to time, 
 shed a twinkling and uncertain light. Hitherto nothing had broken 
 the silence around him, but the deep cry of the bog-blitter, or bull- 
 of-the-bog, a large species of bittern ; and the sighs of the wind as 
 it passed along the dreary morass. To these was now joined the 
 distant roar of the ocean, towards which the traveller seemed to be 
 fast approaching. This was no circumstance to make his mind 
 easy. Many of the roads in that country lay along the sea-beach, 
 and were liable to be flooded by the tides, which rise to a great 
 height, and advance with extreme rapidity. Others were inter- 
 sected with creeks and small inlets, which it was only safe to pass 
 at particular times of the tide. Neither circumstance would have 
 suited a dark night, a fatigued horse, and a traveller ignorant of his 
 road. Mannering resolved, therefore, definitely, to halt for the 
 night at the first inhabited place, however poor, he might chance to 
 reach, unless he could procure a guide to this unlucky village of 
 Kippletringan. 
 
 A miserable hut gave him an opportunity to execute his purpose. 
 He found out the door with no small difficulty, and for some time 
 knocked without producing any other answer than a duet between 
 a female and a cur-dog, the latter yelping as if he would have 
 barked his heart out, the other screaming in chorus. By degrees 
 the human tones predominated ; but the angry bark of the cur 
 being at the instant changed into a howl, it is probable something 
 more than fair strength of Itfngs had contributed to the ascendency. 
 
 " Sorrow be in your thrapple then ! " these were the first articu- 
 late words ; " will ye no let me hear what the man wants, wi' your 
 yaffing?" 
 
 " Am I far from Kippletringan, good dame ? " 
 
 " Frae Kippletringan ! ! ! " in an exalted tone of wonder, which 
 we can but faintly express by three points of admiration ; " Ow, 
 man ! ye should hae hadden eassel to Kippletringan — ye maun gae 
 back as far as the Whaap, and haud the Whaap * till ye come to 
 Ballenloan, and then " 
 
 " This will never do, good dame ! my horse is almost quite 
 knocked up — can you not give me a night's lodgings ? " 
 
 " Troth can I no ; I am a lone woman, for James he's awa to 
 Drumshourloch fair with the year-aulds, and I daurna for my life 
 open the door to ony o' your gang-there-out sort o' bodies." 
 
 " But what must I do then, good dame ? for I can't sleep here 
 upon the road all night." 
 
 "Troth, I kenna, unless ye like to gae down and speer for 
 quarters at the Place. I'se warrant they'll tab ye in, whether ye 
 be gentle or semple." 
 
22 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Simple enough, to be wandering here at such a time of night," 
 thought Mannering, who was ignorant of the meaning of the 
 phrase. " But how shall I get to the place, as you call it ? " 
 
 " Ye maun haud wessel by the end o' the loan, and take tent o' 
 the jaw-hole." 
 
 " O, if ye get to eassel and wessel* again, I am undone ! — Is 
 there nobody that could guide me to this place ? I will pay him 
 handsomely." 
 
 The wbrdjtoy operated like magic. "Jock, ye villain," exclaimed 
 the voice from the interior, "are ye lying routing there, and a 
 young gentleman seeking the way to the Place ? Get up, ye fause 
 loon, and show him the way down the muckle loaning. — He'll show 
 you the way, sir, and I'se warrant ye'll be weel put up ; for they 
 never turn awa naebody frae the door ; and ye'll be come in the 
 canny moment, I'm thinking, for the laird's servant— that's no to 
 say his body-servant, but the helper like — rade express by this e'en 
 to fetch the houdie, and he just staid the drinking o' twa pints o' 
 tippeny, to tell us how my leddy was ta'en wi' her pains." 
 
 " Perhaps," said Mannering, " at such a time a stranger's arrival 
 might be inconvenient ? " 
 
 " Hout, na, ye needna be blate about that ; their house is muckle 
 eneugh, and decking * time's aye canty time." 
 
 By this time Jock had found his way into all the intricacies of a 
 tattered doublet, and more tattered pair of breeches, and sallied 
 forth, a great white-headed, bare-legged, lubberly boy of twelve 
 years old, so exhibited by the glimpse of a rushlight, which his 
 half-naked mother held in such a manner as to get a peep at the 
 stranger, without greatly exposing herself to view in return. Jock 
 moved on westward, by the end of the house, leading Mannering's 
 horse by the bridle, and piloting, with some dexterity, along the 
 little path which bordered the formidable jaw-hole, whose vicinity 
 the stranger was made sensible of by means of more organs than 
 one. His guide then dragged the weary hack along a broken and 
 stony cart-track, next over a ploughed field, then broke down a 
 slap, as he called it, in a dry-stone fence, and lugged the unresist- 
 ing animal through the breach, about a rood of the simple masonry 
 giving way in the splutter with which he passed. Finally, he led 
 the way, through a wicket, into something which had still the air of 
 an avenue, though many of the trees were felled. The roar of the 
 ocean was now near and full, and the moon, which began to make 
 her appearance, gleamed on a turreted and apparently a ruined 
 mansion of considerable extent. Mannering fixed his eyes upon 
 it with a disconsolate sensation. 
 
 "Why, my little fellow," he said, " this is a ruin, not a house ! " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 23 
 
 " Ah, but the lairds lived there langsyne — that's Ellengowan 
 Auld Place; there's a hantle bogles about it — but ye needna be 
 feared — I never saw ony mysell, and we're just at the door o' the 
 New Place." 
 
 Accordingly, leaving the ruins on the right, a few steps brought 
 the traveller in front of a modern house of moderate size, at which 
 his guide rapped with great importance. Mannering told his 
 circumstances to the servant ; and the gentleman of the house, who 
 heard his tale from the parlour, stepped forward, and welcomed the 
 stranger hospitably to Ellangowan. The boy, made happy witt 
 half a crown, was dismissed to his cottage, the weary horse was 
 conducted to a stall, and Mannering found himself in a few minutes 
 seated by a comfortable supper, for which his cold ride gave him a 
 hearty appetite. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Comes me cranking in, 
 
 And cuts me from the best of all my land, 
 A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. 
 
 Henry Fourth, Part I. 
 
 The company in the parlour at Ellangowan consisted of the 
 Laird, and a sort of person who might be the village schoolmaster, 
 or perhaps the minister's assistant ; his appearance was too shabby 
 to indicate the minister, considering he was on a visit to the 
 Laird. 
 
 The Laird himself was one of those second-rate sort of persons, 
 that are to be found frequently in rural situations. Fielding has 
 described one class as/eras consumere natij but the love of field- 
 sports indicates a certain activity of mind, which had forsaken Mr. 
 Bertram, if ever he possessed it. A good-humoured listlessness of 
 countenance formed the only remarkable expression of his features, 
 although they were rather handsome than otherwise. In fact, his 
 physiognomy indicated the inanity of character which pervaded his 
 life. I will give the reader some insight into his state and conver- 
 sation, before he has finished a long lecture to Mannering, upon the 
 propriety and-comfort of wrapping his stirrup-irons round with a 
 whisp of straw when he had occasion to ride in a chill evening. 
 
 Godfrey Bertram, of Ellangowan, succeeded to a long pedigree 
 and a short rent-roll, like many lairds of that period. His list of 
 forefathers ascended so high, that- they were lost in the barbarous 
 ages of Galwegian independence ; so that his genealogical tree, be- 
 sides the Christian and crusading names of Godfreys, and Gilberts, 
 
24 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 and Dennises, and Rolands without end, bore heathen fruit of yet 
 darker ages,— Arths, and Knarths, and Donagilds, and Hanlons. 
 In truth, they had been formerly the stormy chiefs of a desert but 
 extensive domain, and the heads of a numerous tribe, called Mac- 
 Dingawaie, though they afterwards adopted the Norman surname 
 of Bertram. They had made war, raised rebellions, been defeated, 
 beheaded, and hanged, as became a family of importance, for many 
 centuries. But they had gradually lost ground in the world, and, 
 from being themselves the heads of treason and traitorous con- 
 spiracies, the Bertrams, or Mac-Dingawaies, of Ellangowan, had 
 sunk into subordinate accomplices. Their most fatal exhibitions in 
 this capacity took place in the seventeenth century, when the foul 
 fiend possessed them with a spirit of contradiction, which uniformly 
 involved them in controversy with the ruling powers. They re- 
 versed the conduct of the celebrated Vicar of Bray, and adhered as 
 tenaciously to the weaker side, as that worthy divine to the stronger. 
 And truly, like him, they had their reward. 
 
 Allan Bertram of Ellangowan, who flourished tempore Caroli 
 ■primi, was, says my authority, Sir Robert Douglas, in his Scottish 
 Baronage (see the title Ellangowan), " a steady loyalist, and full of 
 zeal for the cause of his Sacred Majesty, in which he united with 
 the great Marquis of Montrose, and other truly zealous and honour- 
 able patriots, and sustained great losses in that behalf. He had the 
 honour of knighthood conferred upon him by his Most Sacred 
 Majesty, and was sequestrated as a malignant by the parliament 
 1642, and afterwards as a resolutioner, in the year 1648." — These 
 two cross-grained epithets of malignant and resolutioner cost poor 
 Sir Allan one half of the family estate. His son Dennis Bertram 
 married a daughter of an eminent fanatic, who had a seat in the 
 council of state, and saved by that union the remainder of the 
 family property. But, as ill chance would have it, he became 
 enamoured of the lady's principles as well as of her charms, and my 
 author gives him this character : " He was a man of eminent parts 
 and resolution, for which reason he was chosen by the western 
 counties one of the committee of noblemen and gentlemen, to re- 
 port their griefs to the privy council of Charles II. anent the coming 
 in of the Highland host in 1678." For undertaking this patriotic 
 task he underwent a fine, to pay which he was obliged to mortgage 
 half of the remaining moiety of his paternal property. This loss he 
 might have recovered by dint of severe economy, but on the break- 
 ing out of Argyle's rebellion, Dennis Bertram was again suspected 
 by Government, apprehended, sent to Dunnotar Castle, on the coast 
 of the Mearns, and there broke his neck in an attempt to escape 
 from a subterranean habitation called the Whigs' Vault, in which he 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 25 
 
 was confined with some eighty of the same persuasion. The ap- 
 prizer, therefore (as the holder of a mortgage was then called) 
 entered upon possession, and, in the language of Hotspur, '"' came 
 me cranking in," and cut the family out of another monstrous cantle 
 of their remaining property. 
 
 Donohoe Bertram, with somewhat of an Irish name, and some- 
 what of an Irish temper, succeeded to the diminished property of 
 Ellangowan. He turned out of doors the Rev. Aaron Macbriar, his 
 mother's chaplain (it is said they quarrelled about the good graces 
 of a milkmaid), drank himself daily drunk with brimming healths 
 to the king, council, and bishops ; held orgies with the Laird of 
 Lagg, Theophilus Oglethorpe, and Sir James Turner ; and lastly, 
 took his grey gelding, and joined Clavers at Killiecrankie. At the 
 skirmish of Dunkeld, 1689, he was shot dead by a Cameronian with 
 a silver button (being supposed to have proof from the Evil One 
 against lead and steel), and his grave is still called, the " Wicked 
 Laird's Lair." 
 
 His son, Lewis, had more prudence than seems usually to have 
 belonged to the family. He nursed what property was yet left to 
 him ; for Donohoe's excesses, as well as fines and forfeitures, had 
 made another inroad upon the estate. And although even he did 
 not escape the fatality which induced the Lairds of Ellangowan to 
 interfere with politics, he had yet the prudence, ere he went au/with 
 Lord Kenmore in 171 5, to convey his estate to trustees in order to 
 parry pains and penalties, in case the Earl of Mar could not put 
 down the Protestant succession. But Scylla and Charybdis — a 
 word to the wise — he only saved his estate at the expense of a law- 
 suit, which again subdivided the family property. He was, however, 
 a man of resolution. He sold part of the lands, evacuated the old 
 castlef where the family lived in their decadence, as a mouse (said 
 an old farmer) lives under a firlot. Pulling down part of these 
 venerable ruins, he built with the stones a narrow house of three 
 stories high, with a front like a grenadier's cap, having in the very 
 centre a round window, like the single eye of a Cyclops, two windows 
 on each side, and a door in the middle, leading to a parlonr and 
 withdrawing room, full of all manner of cross lights. 
 
 This was the New Place of Ellangowan, in which we left our 
 hero, better amused perhaps than our readers, and to this Lewis 
 Bertram retreated, full of projects for re-establishing the prosperity 
 of his family. He took some land into his own hand, rented some 
 from neighbouring proprietors, bought and sold Highland cattle 
 and Cheviot sheep, rode to fairs and trysts, fought hard bargains, 
 and held necessity at the staff's end as well as he might. But what 
 he gained in purse he lost in honour, for such agricultural and com- 
 
26 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 mercial negotiations were very ill looked upon by his brother lairds, 
 who minded nothing but cock-fighting, hunting, coursing, and 
 horse-racing, with now and then the alternation of a desperate 
 duel. The occupations which he followed encroached, in their 
 opinion, upon the article of Ellangowan's gentry ; and he found it 
 necessary gradually to estrange himself from their society, and sink 
 into what was then a very ambiguous character, a gentleman 
 farmer. In the midst of his schemes, death claimed his tribute ; 
 and the scanty remains of a large property descended upon Godfrey 
 Bertram, the present possessor, his- only son. 
 
 The danger of the father's speculations were soon seen. Deprived 
 of Laird Lewis's personal and active superintendence, all his under- 
 takings miscarried, and became either abortive or perilous. With- 
 out a single spark of energy to meet or repel these misfortunes, 
 Godfrey put his faith in the activity of another. He kept neither 
 hunters, nor hounds, nor any other southern preliminaries to ruin ; 
 but, as has been observed of his countrymen, he kept a man of 
 business, who answered the purpose equally well. Under this 
 gentleman's supervision small debts grew into large, interests were 
 accumulated upon capitals, movable bonds became heritable, and 
 law charges were heaped upon all ; though Ellangowan possessed 
 so little the spirit of a litigant, that he was on two occasions 
 charged to make payment of the expenses of a long lawsuit, 
 although he had never before heard that he had such cases in 
 court. Meanwhile his neighbours predicted his final ruin. Those 
 of the higher rank, with some malignity, accounted him already a 
 degraded brother. The lower classes, seeing nothing enviable in 
 his situation, marked his embarrassments with more compassion. 
 He was even a kind of favourite with them, and upon the division 
 of a common, or the holding of a black-fishing or poaching court, 
 or any similar occasion, when they conceived themselves oppressed 
 by the gentry, they were in the habit of saying to each other, " Ah, 
 if Ellangowan, honest man, had his ain that his forbears had afore 
 him, he wadna see the puir folk trodden down this gait." Mean- 
 while, this general good opinion never prevented their taking the 
 advantage of him on all possible occasions, turning their cattle into 
 his parks, stealing his wood, shooting his game, and so forth, "for 
 the laird, honest man, he'll never find it, — he never minds what a 
 puir body does." — Pedlars, gipsies, tinkers, vagrants of all descrip- 
 tions, roosted about his out-houses, or harboured in his kitchen ; 
 and the laird, who was " nae nice body," but a thorough gossip, 
 like most weak men, found recompense for his hospitality in the 
 pleasure of questioning them on the news of the country side. 
 
 A circumstance arrested Ellangowan's progress on the high road 
 
GUY MANNERING. 27 
 
 to ruin. This was his marriage with a lady who had a portion of 
 about four thousand pounds. Nobody in the neighbourhood could 
 conceive why she married him, and endowed him with her wealth, 
 unless because he had a tall, handsome figure, a good set of 
 features, a genteel address, and the most perfect good-humour. It 
 might be some additional consideration, that she was herself at the 
 reflecting age of twenty-eight, and had no near relations to control 
 her actions or choice. 
 
 It was in this lady's behalf (confined for the first time after her 
 marriage) that the speedy and active express, mentioned by the old 
 dame of the cottage, had been dispatched to Kippletringan on the 
 night of Mannering's arrival. 
 
 Though we have said so much of the Laird himself, it still re- 
 mains that we make the reader in some degree acquainted with his 
 companion. This was Abel Sampson, commonly called, from his 
 occupation as a pedagogue, Dominie Sampson. He was of low 
 birth, but having evinced, even from his cradle, an uncommon 
 seriousness of disposition, the poor parents were encouraged to 
 hope that their bairn, as they expressed it, " might wag his pow in 
 a pulpit yet." With an ambitious view to such a consummation, 
 they pinched and pared, rose early and lay down late, ate dry bread 
 and drank cold water, to secure to Abel the means of learning. 
 Meantime, his tall ungainly figure, his taciturn and grave 
 manners, and some grotesque habits of swinging his limbs, and 
 screwing his visage while reciting his task, made poor Sampson 
 the ridicule of all his school-companions. The same qualities 
 secured him at Glasgow college a plentiful share of the same sort 
 of notice. Half the youthful mob of "the yards " used to assemble 
 regularly to see Dominie Sampson (for he had already attained 
 that honourable title) descend the stairs from the Greek class, with 
 his Lexicon under his arm, his long, misshapen legs sprawling 
 abroad, and keeping awkward time to the play of his immense 
 shoulder-blades, as they raised and depressed the loose and thread- 
 bare black coat which was his constant and only wear. When he 
 spoke, the efforts of the professor (professor of divinity though he 
 was) were totally inadequate to restrain the inextinguishable 
 laughter of the students, and sometimes even to repress his own. 
 The long, sallow visage, the goggle eyes, the huge under-jaw, which 
 appeared not to open and shut by "an act of volition, but to be 
 dropped and hoisted up again by some complicated machinery 
 within the inner man, — the harsh and dissonant voice, and the 
 screech-owl notes to which it was exalted when he was exhorted to 
 pronounce more distinctly, — all added fresh subject for mirth to the 
 torn cloak and shattered shoe, which have afforded legitimate sub* 
 
at, GUY MANNERING. 
 
 jects of raillery against the poor scholar, from Juvenal's time 
 downward. It was never known that Sampson either exhibited 
 irritability at this ill usage, or made the least attempt to retort upon 
 his tormentors. He slunk from college by the most secret paths 
 he could discover, and plunged himself into his miserable lodging, 
 where, for eighteen-pence a week he was allowed the benefit of a 
 straw mattress, and, if his landlady was in good humour, permission 
 to study his task by her fire. Under all these disadvantages, he 
 obtained a competent knowledge of Greek and Latin, and some 
 acquaintance with the sciences. 
 
 In progress of time, Abel Sampson, probationer of divinity, was 
 admitted to the privileges of a preacher. But, alas ! partly from 
 his own bashfulness, partly owing to a strong and obvious disposi- 
 tion to risibility which pervaded the congregation upon his first 
 attempt, he became totally incapable of proceeding in his intended 
 discourse, gasped, grinned hideously, rolled his eyes till the congre- 
 gation thought them flying out of his head, shut the Bible, stumbled 
 down the pulpit-stairs, trampling upon the old women who generally 
 take their station there, and was ever after designated as a " stickit 
 minister." And thus he wandered back to his own country, with 
 blighted hopes and prospects, to share the poverty of his parents. 
 As he had neither friend nor confidant, hardly even an acquaint- 
 ance, no one had the means of observing closely how Dominie 
 Sampson bore a disappointment which supplied the whole town 
 with a week's sport. It would be endless even to mention the 
 numerous jokes to which it gave birth, from a ballad, called 
 " Sampson's Riddle," written upon the subject by a smart young 
 student of humanity, to the sly hope of the Principal, that the fugi- 
 tive had not, in imitation of his mighty namesake, taken the college 
 gates along with him in his retreat. 
 
 To all appearance, the equanimity of Sampson was unshaken. 
 He sought to assist his parents by teaching a school, and soon had 
 plenty of scholars, but very few fees. In fact, he taught the sons 
 of farmers for what they chose to give him, and the poor for 
 nothing ; and to the shame of the former be it spoken, the peda- 
 gogue's gains never equalled those of a skilful ploughman. He 
 wrote, however, a good hand, and added something to his pittance 
 by copying accounts and writing letters for Ellangowan. By 
 degrees, the Laird, who was much estranged from general society, 
 became partial to that of Dominie Sampson. Conversation, it is 
 true, was out of the question, but the Dominie was a good listener, 
 and stirred the fire with some address. He attempted even to 
 snuff the candles, but was unsuccessful, and relinquished that ambi- 
 tious post of courtesy after having twice reduced the parlour to 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 29 
 
 total darkness. So his civilities, thereafter, were confined to taking 
 off his glass of ale in exactly the same time and measure with the 
 Laird, and in uttering certain indistinct murmurs of acquiescence 
 at the conclusion of the long and winding stories of Ellangowan. 
 
 On one of these occasions, he presented for the first time to 
 Mannering his tall, gaunt, awkward, bony figure, attired in a thread- 
 bare suit of black, with a coloured handkerchief, not over clean, 
 about his sinewy, scraggy neck, and his nether person arrayed in 
 grey breeches, dark blue stockings, clouted shoes, and small 
 copper buckles. 
 
 Such is a brief outline of tha lives and fortunes of those two 
 persons, in whose society Mannering now found himself comfort- 
 ably seated. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Do not the hist'ries of all ages 
 Relate miraculous presages, 
 Of strange turns in the world's affairs, 
 Foreseen by Astrologers, Sooth-sayers, 
 Chaldeans, learned Genethliacs, 
 And some that have writ almanacks ? 
 
 Hudibras. 
 
 THE circumstances of the landlady were pleaded to Mannering, 
 first as an apology for her not appearing to welcome her guest, and 
 for those deficiencies in his entertainment which her attention 
 might have supplied, and then as an excuse for pressing an extra 
 bottle of good wine. 
 
 " I cannot weel sleep," said the Laird, with the anxious feelings 
 of a father in such a predicament, " till I hear she's gotten ower 
 with it — and if you, sir, are not very sleepy, and would do me and the 
 Dominie the honour to sit up wi'us, I am sure we shall not detain you 
 very late. Luckie Howatson is very expeditious ; — there was ance a 
 lass that was in that way — she did not live far from hereabouts — ye 
 needna shake your head and groan, Dominie — I am sure the kirk 
 dues were a' weel paid, and what can man do mair ? — it was laid 
 till her ere she had a sark ower her head ; and the man that she 
 since wadded does not think her a pin the waur for the misfortune. 
 — They live, Mr. Mannering, by the shore-side, at Annan, and a 
 mair decent, orderly couple, with six as fine bairns as ye would 
 wish to see plash in a salt-water dub ; and little curlie Godfrey — 
 that's the eldest, the come o' will, as I may say — he's on board an 
 excise yacht — I hae a cousin at the board of excise — that's Com- 
 
30 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 missioner Berrtam ; he got his commissionership in the great con- 
 test for the county, that ye must have heard of, for it was appealed 
 to the House of Commons— now I should have voted there for the 
 Laird of Balruddery ; but ye see my father was a Jacobite, and 
 out with Kenmore, so he never took the oaths ; and I ken not weel 
 how it was, but all that I could do and say, they keepit me off the 
 roll, though my agent, that had a vote upon my estate, ranked as a 
 good vote for auld Sir Thomas Kittlecourt. But to return to what 
 I was saying, Luckie Howatson is very expeditious, for this 
 
 lass " 
 
 Here the desultory and long-winded narrative of the Laird was 
 interrupted by the voice of some one ascending the stairs from the 
 kitchen story, and singing at full pitch of voice. The high notes 
 were too shrill for a man, the low seemed too deep for a woman. 
 The words, as far as Mannering could distinguish them, seemed to 
 run thus : 
 
 " Canny moment, lucky fit ; 
 
 Is the lady lighter yet ? 
 
 Be it lad or be it lass, 
 
 Sign wi' cross, and sain wi' mass." 
 
 " It's Meg Merrilies, the gipsy, as sure as I am a sinner,'' said 
 Mr. Bertram. The Dominie groaned deeply, uncrossed his legs, 
 drew in the huge splay foot which his former posture had extended, 
 placed it perpendicularly, and stretched the other limb over it 
 instead, puffing out between whiles huge volumes of tobacco smoke. 
 " What needs ye groan, Dominie ? I am sure Meg's sangs do nae 
 ill." 
 
 " Nor good neither," answered Dominie Sampson, in a voice 
 whose untuneable harshness corresponded with the awkwardness 
 of his figure. They were the first words which Mannering had 
 heard him speak; and as he had been watching with some curiosity 
 when this eating, drinking, moving, and smoking automaton would 
 perform the part of speaking, he was a good deal diverted with the 
 harsh timber tones which issued from him. But at this moment 
 the door opened, and Meg Merrilies entered. 
 
 Her appearance made Mannering start. She was full six feet 
 high, wore a man's great-coat over the rest of her dress, had in her 
 hand agoodly sloe-thorn cudgel, and in all points of equipment, except 
 her petticoats, seemed rather masculine than feminine. Her dark 
 elf-locks shot out like the snakes of the gorgon, between an old- 
 fashioned bonnet called a bongrace, heightening the singular effect 
 of her strong and weather-beaten features, which they partly 
 shadowed, while her eye had a wild roll that indicated something 
 Uke real or affected insanity. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 31 
 
 " Aweel, Ellangowan," she said, " wad it no hae been a bonnie 
 thing an the leddy had been brought to bed and me at the fair o' 
 Drumshourloch, no kenning, nor dreaming a word about it ? Wha 
 was to hae keepit awa the worriecows, I trow ? Ay, and the el/es 
 and gyre-carlings frae the bonny bairn, grace be wi' it ? Ay, or 
 said Saint Colme's charm for its sake, the dear ?" And without 
 waiting an answer, she began to sing — 
 
 " Trefoil, vervain, John's-wort, dill, 
 Hinders witches of their will ; 
 Weel is them, that weel may 
 Fast upon St. Andrew's day. 
 
 Saint Bride and her brat, 
 Saint Colme and his cat, 
 Saint Michael and his spear, 
 Keep the house frae reif and wear." 
 
 This charm she sung to a wild tune, in a high and shrill voice, and, 
 cutting three capers with such strength and agility as almost to 
 touch the roof of the room, concluded, " And now, Laird, will ye no 
 order me a tass o' brandy ? " 
 
 " That you shall have, Meg — Sit down yont there at the door, 
 and tell us what news ye have heard at the fair o' Drumshourloch." 
 
 " Troth, Laird, and there was muckle want o' you, and the like 
 o' you ; for there was a whin bonnie lasses there, forbye mysell, and 
 deil ane to gie them hansels." 
 
 " Weel, Meg, and how mony gipsies were sent to the tolbooth ? " 
 
 " Troth, but three, Laird, for there were nae mair in the fair, bye 
 mysell, as I said before, and I e'en gae them leg-bail, for there's 
 nae ease in dealing wi' quarrelsome folk. And there's Dunbog has 
 warned the Red Rotten and John Young aff his grunds — black be 
 his cast ! he's nae gentleman, nor drap's bluid o' gentleman, wad 
 grudge twa gangrel puir bodies the shelter o' a waste house, and 
 the thristles by the road-side for a bit cuddy, and the bits o' rotten 
 birk to boil their drap parritch wi'. Weel, there's ane abune a' — 
 but we'll see if the red cock craw not in his bonnie barn-yard ae 
 morning before day-dawing." 
 
 " Hush ! Meg, hush ! hush ! that's not safe talk." 
 
 " What does she mean ? " said Mannering to Sampson, in an 
 under-tone. 
 
 " Fire-raising," answered the laconic Dominie. 
 
 " Who, or what is she, in the name of wonder ? " 
 
 " Harlot, thief, witch, and gipsy," answered Sampson again. 
 
 " O troth, Laird," continued Meg, during this by-talk, " it's but 
 to the like o' you ane can open their heart ; ye see, they say Dunbog 
 
33 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 is nae mair a gentleman than the blunter that's biggit the bonnie 
 house down in the howm. But the like o' you, Laird, that's a real 
 gentlemen for sae mony hundred years, and never hunds puir fowk 
 aff your grund as if they were mad tykes, nane o' our fowk wad stir 
 your gear if ye had as mony capons as there's leaves on the trysting- 
 tree. — And now some o' ye maun lay down your watch, and tell me 
 the very minute o' the hour the wean's born, and I'll spae its 
 fortune." 
 
 " Ay, but, Meg, we shall not want your assistance, for here's a 
 student from Oxford that kens much better than you how to spae 
 its fortune — he does it by the stars." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Mannering, entering into the simple humour 
 of his landlord, " I will calculate his nativity according to the rule 
 »f the Triplicities, as recommended by Pythagoras, Hippocrates, 
 Diocles, and Avicenna. Or I will begin ab hora questionis, as Haly, 
 Messahala, Ganwehis, and Guido Bonatus have recommended." 
 
 One of Sampson's great recommendations to the favour of Mr. 
 Bertram was, that he never detected the most gross attempt at 
 imposition, so that the Laird, whose humble efforts at jocularity 
 were chiefly confined to what were then called bites and bams, 
 since denominated hoaxes and quizzes, had the fairest possible 
 subject of wit in the unsuspecting Dominie. It is true, he never 
 laughed, or joined in the laugh which his own simplicity afforded— 
 nay, it is said he never laughed but once in his life ; and on that 
 memorable occasion his landlady miscarried, partly through sur- 
 prise at the event itself, and partly from terror at the hideous gri- 
 maces which attended this unusual cachinnation. The only effect 
 which the discovery of such imposition produced upon this satur- 
 nine personage was to extort an ejaculation of " Prodigious ! " or 
 " Very facetious ! " pronounced syllabically, but without moving a 
 muscle of his own countenance. 
 
 On the present occasion, he turned a gaunt and ghastly stare 
 upon the youthful astrologer, and seemed to doubt if he had rightly 
 understood his answer to his patron. 
 
 " I am afraid, sir," said Mannering, turning towards him, " you 
 may be one of those unhappy persons who, their dim eyes being 
 unable to penetrate the starry spheres, and to discern therein the 
 decrees of heaven at a distance, have their hearts barred against 
 conviction by prejudice and misprision." 
 
 " Truly," said Sampson, " I opine with Sir Isaac Newton, Knight, 
 and umwhile master of his majesty's mint, that the (pretended) 
 science of astrology is altogether vain, frivolous, and unsatisfactory." 
 And here he reposed his oracular jaws. 
 
 " Really," resumed the traveller, " I am sorry to see a gentleman 
 
GUY MANNERING. 33 
 
 of your learning and gravity labouring under such strange blindness 
 and delusion. Will you place the brief, the modern, and as I may 
 say, the vernacular name of Isaac Newton, in opposition to the 
 grave and sonorous authorities of Dariot, Bonatus, Ptolemy, Haly, 
 Eztler, Dieterick, Naibob, Harfurt, Zael, Taustettor, Agrippa, 
 Duretus, Maginus, Origen, and Argol? Do not Christians and 
 Heathens, and Jews and Gentiles, and poets and philosophers, 
 unite in allowing the starry influences ? " 
 
 " Communis error — it is a general mistake," answered the inflex- 
 ible Dominie Sampson. 
 
 " Not so," replied the young Englishman ; " it is a general and 
 well-grounded belief." 
 
 " It is the resource of cheaters, knaves, and cozeners," said 
 Sampson. 
 
 " Abiisus non tollit usum : the abuse of anything does not abro- 
 gate the lawful use thereof." 
 
 During this discussion, Ellangowan was somewhat like a wood- 
 cock caught in his own springe. He turned his face alternately 
 from the one spokesman to the other, and began, from the gravity 
 with which Mannering plied his adversary, and the learning which 
 he displayed in the controversy, to give him credit for being half 
 serious. As for Meg, she fixed her bewildered eyes upon the astro- 
 loger, overpowered by a jargon more mysterious than her own. 
 
 Mannering pressed his advantage, and ran over all the hard 
 terms of art which a tenacious memory supplied, and which, from 
 circumstances hereafter to be noticed, had been familiar to him in 
 early youth. 
 
 Signs and planets, in aspects sextile, quartile, trine, conjoined or 
 opposite ; houses of heaven, with their cusps, hours, and minutes ; 
 Almuten, Almochoden, Anahibazon, Catahibazon ; a thousand 
 terms of equal sound and significance, poured thick and threefold 
 upon the unshrinking Dominie, whose stubborn incredulity bore 
 him out against the pelting of this pitiless storm. 
 
 At length the joyful annunciation that the lady had presented 
 her husband with a fine boy, and was (of course) as well as could 
 be expected, broke off this intercourse. Mr. Bertram hastened to 
 the lady's apartment, Meg Merrilies descended to the kitchen to 
 secure her share of the groaning malt,* and the "ken-no;" and 
 Mannering, after looking at his watch, and noting with great exact- 
 ness the hour and minute of the birth, requested, with becoming 
 gravity, that the Dominie would conduct him to some place where 
 he might have a view of the heavenly bodies. 
 
 The schoolmaster, without further answer, rose, and threw open 
 a door half-sashed with glass, which led to an old-fashioned terrace- 
 
 c 
 
34 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 walk, behind the modern house, communicating with the platform 
 on which the ruins of the ancient castle were situated. The wind 
 had arisen, and swept before it the clouds which had formerly ob- 
 scured the sky. The moon was high, and at the full, and all the 
 lesser satellites of heaven shone forth in cloudless effulgence. The 
 scene which their light presented to Mannering was in the highest 
 degree unexpected and striking. 
 
 We have observed, that in the latter part of his journey our 
 traveller approached the sea-shore, without being aware how nearly. 
 He now perceived that the ruins of Ellangowan castle were situated 
 upon a promontory, or projection of rock, which formed one side of 
 a small and placid bay, on the sea-shore. . The modern mansion 
 was placed lower, though closely adjoining, and the ground behind 
 it descended to the sea by a small swelling green bank, divided 
 into levels by natural terraces on which grew some old trees, and 
 terminating upon the white sand. The other side of the bay, oppo- 
 site to the old castle, was a sloping and varied promontory, covered 
 chiefly with copsewood, which on that favoured coast grows almost 
 within water-mark. A fisherman's cottage peeped from among the 
 trees. Even at this dead hour of night there were lights moving 
 upon the shore, probably occasioned by the unloading a smuggling 
 lugger from the Isle of Man, which was lying in the bay. On the 
 light from the sashed door of the house being observed, a halloo 
 from the vessel of " Ware-hawk ! Douse the glim ! " alarmed those 
 who were on shore, and the lights instantly disappeared. 
 
 It was one hour after midnight, and the prospect around was 
 lovely. The grey old towers of the ruin, partly entire, partly 
 broken, here bearing the rusty weather-stains of ages, and there 
 partially mantled with ivy, stretched along the verge of the dark 
 rock which rose on Mannering's right hand. In his front was the 
 quiet bay, whose little waves, crisping and sparkling to the moon- 
 beams, rolled successively along its surface, and dashed with a soft 
 and murmuring ripple against the silvery beach. To the left, the 
 woods advanced far into the ocean, waving in the moonlight along 
 ground of an undulating and varied form, and presenting those 
 varieties of light and shade, and that interesting combination of 
 glade and thicket, upon which the eye delights to rest, charmed 
 with what it sees, yet curious to pierce still deeper into the intrica- 
 cies of the woodland scenery. Above rolled the planets, each, by 
 its own liquid orbit of light, distinguished from the inferior or more 
 distant stars. So strangely can imagination deceive even those by 
 whose volition it has been excited, that Mannering, while gazing 
 upon these brilliant bodies, was half inclined to believe in the influ- 
 ence ascribed to them by superstition over human events. But 
 
GUY MANNERING. 3$ 
 
 Mannering was a youthful lover, and might perhaps be influenced 
 by the feelings so exquisitely expressed by a modern poet : — 
 
 " For fable is Love's world, his home, his birth-place : 
 Delightedly dwells he 'mong fays, and talismans, 
 And spirits, and delightedly believes 
 Divinities, being himself divine. 
 The intelligible forms of ancient poets, 
 The fair humanities of old religion, 
 The power, the beauty, and the majesty, 
 That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountains, 
 Or forest, by slow stream, or pebbly spring, 
 Or chasms and watery depths — all these have vanish'd ; 
 They live no longer in the faith of reason ! 
 But still the heart doth need a language, still 
 Doth the old instinct bring back the old names. 
 And to yon starry world they now are gone, 
 Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth 
 With man as with their friend, and to the lover 
 Yonder they move, from yonder visible sky 
 Shoot influence down ; and even at this day 
 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, 
 And Venus who brings every thing that's fair." 
 
 Such musings soon gave way to others. " Alas ! " he muttered, 
 " my good old tutor, who used to enter so deep into the controversy 
 between Heydon and Chambers on the subject of astrology, he 
 would have looked upon the scene with other eyes, and would have- 
 seriously endeavoured to discover from the respective positions of 
 these luminaries their probable effects on the destiny of the new- 
 born infant, as if the courses or emanations of the stars superseded, 
 or, at least, were co-ordinate with Divine Providence. Well, rest 
 be with him ! he instilled into me enough of knowledge for erecting 
 a scheme of nativity, and therefore will I presently go about it." 
 So saying, and having noted the position of the principal planetary 
 bodies, Guy Mannering returned to the house. The Laird met him 
 in the parlour, and acquainting him, with great glee, that the boy 
 was a fine healthy little fellow, seemed rather disposed to press 
 further conviviality. He admitted, however, Mannering's plea of 
 weariness, and, conducting him to his sleeping apartment, left him 
 to repose for the evening. 
 
 c a 
 
36 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Come and see ! trust thine own eyes. 
 
 A fearful sign stands in the house of life, 
 An enemy ; a fiend lurks close behind 
 The radiance of thy planet — O be warned ! 
 
 Coleridge, from Schiller. 
 
 The belief in astrology was almost universal in the middle of 
 the seventeenth century ; it began to waver and become doubtful 
 towards the close of that period, and in the beginning of the 
 eighteenth the art fell into general disrepute, and even under gene- 
 ral ridicule. Yet it still retained many partisans even in the seats 
 of learning. Grave and studious men were loath to relinquish the 
 calculations which had early become the principal objects of their 
 studies, and felt reluctant to descend from the predominating 
 height to which a supposed insight into futurity, by the power of 
 consulting abstract influences and conjunctions, had exalted them 
 over the rest of mankind. 
 
 Among those who cherished this imaginary privilege with un- 
 doubting faith, was an old clergyman, with whom Mannering was 
 placed during his youth. He wasted his eyes in observing the 
 stars, and his brains in calculations upon their various combina- 
 tions. His pupil, in early youth, naturally caught some portion of 
 his enthusiasm, and laboured for a time to make himself master of 
 the technical process of astrological research ; so that, before he 
 became convinced of its absurdity, William Lilly himself would 
 have allowed him "a curious fancy and piercing judgment in 
 resolving a question of nativity." 
 
 On the present occasion, he arose as early in the morning as the 
 shortness of the day permitted, and proceeded to calculate the 
 nativity of the young heir of Ellangowan. He undertook the task 
 secundtim artem, as well to keep up appearances, as from a sort of 
 curiosity to know whether he yet remembered, and could practise, 
 the imaginary science. He accordingly erected his scheme, or 
 - figure of heaven, divided into its twelve houses, placed the planets 
 therein according to the Ephemeris, and rectified their position to 
 the hour and moment of the nativity. Without troubling our 
 readers with the general prognostications which judicial astrology 
 would have inferred from these circumstances, in this diagram there 
 was one significator, which pressed remarkably upon our astrologer's 
 attention. Mars having dignity in the cusp of the twelfth house, 
 threatened captivity, or sudden and violent death, to the native ; 
 and Mannering having recourse to those further rules by which 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 37 
 
 diviners pretend to ascertain the vehemency of this evil direction, 
 observed from the result, that three periods would be particularly- 
 hazardous — his fifth — his tenth — his twenty-first year. 
 
 It was somewhat remarkable, that Mannering had once before 
 tried a similar piece of foolery, at the instance of Sophia Wellwood, 
 the young lady to whom he was attached, and that a similar con- 
 junction of planetary influence threatened her with death, or 
 imprisonment, in her thirty-ninth year. She was at this time 
 eighteen ; so that, according to the result of the scheme in both 
 cases, the same year threatened her with the same misfortune that 
 was presaged to the native or infant, whom that night had intro- 
 duced into the world. Struck with this coincidence, Mannering 
 repeated his calculations ; and the result approximated the events 
 predicted, until, at length, the same month, and day of the month, 
 seemed assigned as the period of peril to both. 
 
 It will be readily believed, that, in mentioning this circumstance, 
 we lay no weight whatever upon the pretended information thus 
 conveyed. But it often happens, such is our natural love for the 
 marvellous, that we willingly contribute our own efforts to beguile 
 our better judgments. Whether the coincidence which I have 
 mentioned was really one of those singular chances, which some- 
 times happen against all ordinary calculations ; or whether Man- 
 nering, bewildered amid the arithmetical labyrinth and technical 
 jargon of astrology, had insensibly twice followed the same clew to 
 guide him out of the maze ; or whether his imagination, seduced 
 by some point of apparent resemblance, lent its aid to make the 
 similitude between the two operations more exactly accurate than 
 it might otherwise have been, it is impossible to guess ; but the 
 impression upon his mind, that the results exactly corresponded, 
 was vividly and indelibly strong. 
 
 He could not help feeling surprise at a coincidence so singular 
 and unexpected. " Does the devil mingle in the dance, to avenge 
 himself for our trifling with an art said to be of magical origin ? 
 Or is it possible, as Bacon* and Sir Thomas Browne admit, that 
 there is some truth in a sober and regulated astrology, and that the 
 influence of the stars is not to be denied, though the due application 
 of it, by the knaves who pretend to practise the art, is greatly to be 
 suspected ? " — A moment's consideration of the subject induced 
 him to dismiss this opinion as fantastical, and only sanctioned by 
 those learned men, either because they durst not at once shock the 
 universal prejudices of their age, or because they themselves were 
 not. altogether freed from the contagious influence of a prevailing 
 superstition. Yet the result of his calculations in these two 
 instances left so unpleasing an impression on his mind, that, like 
 
3 8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 Prospero, he mentally relinquished his art, and resolved, neither in 
 jest nor earnest, ever again to practise judicial astrology. 
 
 He hesitated a good deal what he should say to the Laird of 
 Ellangowan concerning the horoscope of his first-born ; and at 
 length resolved plainly to tell him the judgment which he had 
 formed, at the same time acquainting him with the futility of the 
 rules of art on which he had proceeded. With this resolution he 
 walked out upon the terrace. 
 
 If the view of the scene around Ellangowan had been pleasing 
 by moonlight, it lost none of its beauty by the light of the morning 
 sun. The land, even in the month of November, smiled under its 
 influence. A steep, but regular ascent, led from the terrace to the 
 neighbouring eminence, and conducted Mannering to the front of 
 the old castle. It consisted of two massive round towers, projecting, 
 deeply and darkly, at the extreme angles of a curtain, or flat wall, 
 which united them, and thus protecting the main entrance, that 
 opened through a lofty arch in the centre of the curtain into the 
 inner court of the castle. The arms of the family, carved in free- 
 stone, frowned over the gateway, and the portal showed the spaces 
 arranged by the architect for lowering the portcullis, and raising 
 the draw-bridge. A rude farm-gate made of young fir-trees nailed 
 together, now formed the only safe-guard of this once formidable 
 entrance. The esplanade in front of the castle commanded a 
 noble prospect. 
 
 The dreary scene of desolation, through which Mannering's road 
 had lain on the preceding evening, was excluded from the view by 
 some rising ground, and the landscape showed a pleasing alter- 
 nation of hill and dale, intersected by a river, which was in some 
 places visible, and hidden in others, where it rolled betwixt deep 
 and wooded banks. The spire of a church, and the appearance of 
 some houses, indicated the situation of a village at the place where 
 the stream had its junction with the ocean. The vales seemed well 
 cultivated, the little enclosures into which they were divided 
 skirting the bottom of the hills, and sometimes carrying their lines 
 of straggling hedge-rows a little way up the ascent. Above these 
 were green pastures, tenanted chiefly by herds of black cattle, then 
 the staple commodity of the country, whose distant low gave no 
 unpleasing animation to the landscape. The remoter hills were of 
 a sterner character, and, at still greater distance, swelled into moun- 
 tains of dark heath, bordering the horizon with a screen which gave 
 a defined and limited boundary to the cultivated country, and 
 added, at the same time, the pleasing idea, that it was sequestered 
 and solitary. The sea-coast, which Mannering now saw in its 
 extent, corresponded in variety and 'beauty with the inland view. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 39 
 
 In son>e places it rose into tall rocks, frequently crowned with the 
 ruins of old buildings, towers, or beacons, which, according to 
 tradition, were placed within sight of each other, that, in times of 
 invasion or civil war, they might communicate by signal for mutual 
 defence and protection. Ellangowan castle was by far the most 
 extensive and important of these ruins, and asserted, from size and 
 situation, the superiority which its founders were said once to have 
 possessed among the chiefs and nobles of the district. In other 
 places, the shore was of a more gentle description, indented with 
 small bays, where the land sloped smoothly down, or sent into the 
 sea promontories covered with wood. 
 
 A scene so different from what last night's journey had presaged 
 produced a proportional effect upon Mannering. Beneath his eye 
 lay the modern house ; an awkward mansion, indeed, in point of 
 architecture, but well situated, and with a warm pleasant exposure. 
 ■ — " How happily;" thought our hero, " would life glide on in such a 
 retirement ! On the one hand, the striking remnants of ancient 
 grandeur, with the secret consciousness of family pride which they 
 inspire ; on the other, enough of modern elegance and comfort 
 to satisfy every moderate wish. Here then, and with thee," 
 Sophia ! "— ' 
 
 We shall not pursue a lover's day-dream any farther. Mannering 
 stood a minute with his arms folded, and then turned to the ruined 
 castle. 
 
 On entering the gateway, he found that the rude magnificence of 
 the inner court amply corresponded, with the grandeur of the 
 exterior. On the one side ran a range of windows lofty and large, 
 divided by carved mullions of stone, which had once lighted the 
 great hall of the castle ; on the other were various buildings of 
 different heights and dates, yet so united as to present to the eye a 
 certain general effect of uniformity of front. The doors and 
 windows were ornamented with projections exhibiting rude speci- 
 mens of sculpture and tracery, partly entire and partly broken 
 down, partly covered by ivy and trailing plants, which grew 
 luxuriantly among the ruins. That end of the court which faced 
 the entrance had also been formerly closed by a range of buildings ; 
 but owing, it was said, to its having been battered by the ships of 
 the Parliament under Deane, during the long civil war, this part of 
 the castle was much more ruinous than the rest, and exhibited 
 a great chasm, through which Mannering could observe the sea, 
 and the little vessel (an armed lugger) which retained her station 
 in the centre of the bay.* While Mannering was gazing round the 
 ruins, he heard from the interior of an apartment on the left hand 
 the voice of the gipsy he had seen on the preceding evening; He 
 
40 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 soon found an aperture through which he could observe her without 
 being himself visible ; and could not help feeling, that her figure, 
 her employment, and her situation, conveyed the exact impression 
 of an ancient sibyl. 
 
 She sate upon a broken corner-stone in the angle of a paved 
 apartment, part of which she had swept clean to afford a smooth 
 space for the evolutions of her spindle. A strong sunbeam, through 
 a lofty and narrow window, fell upon her wild dress and features, 
 and afforded her light for her occupation ; the rest of the apart- 
 ment was very gloomy. Equipt in a habit which mingled the 
 national dress of the Scottish common people with something of an 
 Eastern costume, she spun a thread, drawn from wool of three 
 different colours, black, white, and grey, by assistance of those 
 ancient implements of housewifery, now almost banished from the 
 land, the distaff and spindle. As she spun, she sung what seemed 
 to be a charm. Mannering, after in vain attempting to make him- 
 self master of the exact words of her song, afterwards attempted 
 the following paraphrase of what, from a few intelligible phrases, 
 he concluded to be its purport : 
 
 Twist ye, twine ye ! even so 
 Mingle shades of joy and woe, 
 Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife, 
 In the thread of human life. 
 
 While the mystic twist is spinning, 
 And the infant's life beginning, 
 Dimly seen through twilight bending, 
 Lo, what varied shapes attending ! 
 
 Passions wild, and Follies vain, 
 Pleasures soon exchanged for pain ; 
 Doubt, and Jealousy, and Fear, 
 In the magic dance appear. 
 
 Now they wax, and now they dwindle, 
 Whirling with the whirling spindle. 
 Twist ye, twine ye ! even so 
 Mingle human bliss and woe. 
 
 Ere our translator, or rather our free imitator, had arranged 
 these stanzas in his head, and while he was yet hammering out 
 a ryme for dwindle, the task of the sibyl was accomplished, or her 
 wool was expended. She took the spindle, now charged with her 
 labours, and undoing the thread, gradually measured it, by casting 
 it over her elbow, and bringing each loop round between her fore- 
 finger and thumb. When she had measured it out, she muttered 
 to herself— "A hank, but not a haill ane— the full veais o' three 
 
GUY MANNERING. 4 l 
 
 score and ten, but thrice broken, and thrice to oop {i.e., to unite) ; 
 he'll be a lucky lad an' he win through wi't." 
 
 Our hero was about to speak to the prophetess, when a voice, 
 hoarse as the waves with which it mingled, halloo'd twice, and 
 with increasing impati ?nce— " Meg, Meg Merrilies !— Gipsy— hag 
 — tousand dey vils ! " 
 
 " I am coming, I am coming, Captain," answered Meg ; and in 
 a moment or two the impatient commander whom she addressed 
 made his appearance from the broken part of the ruins. 
 
 He was apparently a seafaring man, rather under the middle 
 size, and with a countenance bronzed by a thousand conflicts with 
 the north-east wind. His frame was prodigiously muscular, strong, 
 and thickset ; so that it seemed as if a man of much greater height 
 would have been an inadequate match in any close personal 
 conflict. He was hard-favoured, and, which was worse, his face 
 bore nothing of the insouciance, the careless frolicsome jollity and 
 vacant curiosity of a sailor on shore. These qualities, perhaps, as 
 much as any others, contribute to the high popularity of our 
 seamen, and the general good inclination which our society 
 expresses towards them. Their gallantry, courage, and hardihood, 
 are qualities which excite reverence, and perhaps rather humble 
 pacific landsmen in their presence ; and neither respect, nor a sense 
 of humiliation, are feelings easily combined with a familiar fond- 
 ness towards those who inspire them. But the boyish frolics, the 
 exulting high spirits, the unreflecting mirth of a sailor, when 
 snjoying himself on shore, temper the more formidable points of 
 his character. There was nothing like these in this man's face ; 
 on the contrary, a surly and even savage scowl appeared to darken 
 features which would have been harsh and unpleasant under any 
 expression or modification. " Where are you, Mother Deyvilson ? " 
 he said, with somewhat of a foreign accent, though speaking 
 perfectly good English. " Donner and blitzen ! we have been 
 staying this half hour. — Come, bless the good ship and the voyage, 
 and be cursed to ye for a hag of Satan ! " 
 
 At this moment he noticed Mannering, who, from the position 
 which he had taken to watch Meg Merrilies's incantations, had the 
 appearance of some one who was concealing himself, being half 
 hidden by the buttress behind which he stood. The Captain, for 
 such he styled himself, made a sudden and startled pause, and 
 thrust his right hand into his bosom, between his jacket and waist- 
 coat, as if to draw some weapon. "What cheer, brother? you 
 seem on the outlook — eh ? " 
 
 Ere Mannering, somewhat struck by the man's gesture and 
 insolent tonp of voice, had made any answer, the gipsy emerged 
 
4 2 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 from her vault and joined the stranger. He questioned her in an 
 ondertone, looking at Mannering— " A shark alongside— eh ? " 
 
 She answered in the same tone of under-dialogue, using the cant 
 language of her tribe—" Cut ben whids, and stow them— a gentry 
 cove of the ken." * 
 
 The fellow's cloudy visage cleared up. " The top of the morning 
 to you, sir ; I find you are a visitor of my friend Mr. Bertram— I 
 beg pardon, but I took you for another sort of a person." 
 
 Mannering replied, " And you, sir, I presume, are the master of 
 that vessel in the bay ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ; I am Captain Dirk Hatteraick, of the Yungfrauw 
 Hagenslaapen, well known on this coast ; I am not ashamed of my 
 name, nor of my vessel, — no, nor of my cargo neither, for that 
 matter." 
 
 " I dare say you have no reason, sir." 
 
 " Tousand donner — no ; I'm all in the way of fair trade — Just 
 loaded yonder at Douglas, in the Isle of Man — neat cogniac— real 
 hyson and souchong — Mechlin lace, if you want any — Right 
 cogniac — We bumped ashore a hundred kegs last night." 
 
 " Really, sir, I am only a traveller, and have no sort of occasion 
 for any thing of the kind at present." 
 
 " Why, then, good morning to you, for business must be minded 
 — unless yell go aboard and take schnaps* — you shall have a 
 pouch-full of tea ashore — Dirk Hatteraick knows how to be civil." 
 
 There was a mixture of impudence, hardihood, and suspicious 
 fear about this man, which was inexpressibly disgusting. His 
 manners were those of a ruffian, conscious of the suspicion at- 
 tending his character, yet aiming to bear it down by the affectation 
 of a careless and hardy familiarity. Mannering briefly rejected 
 his proffered civilities ; and after a surly good morning, Hatteraick 
 retired with the gipsy to that part of the ruins from which he had 
 first made his appearance. A very narrow staircase here went 
 down to the beach, intended probably for the convenience of the 
 garrison during a siege. By this stair, the couple, equally amiable 
 in appearance, and respectable by profession, descended to the sea- 
 side. The soi-disant captain embarked in a small boat with two 
 men who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on the 
 shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulating with great vehemence. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ■ You have fed upon my seignories 
 
 Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods, 
 From mine own windows torn my household coat. 
 Razed out my impress, leaving me no sign, 
 Save men's opinions and my living blood, 
 To show the world I am a gentleman. 
 
 Richat i IT. 
 
 When the boat which carried the worthy captain on board his 
 vessel had accomplished that task, the sails began to ascend, and 
 the ship was got under way. She fired three guns as a salute to 
 the house of Ellangowan, and then shot away rapidly before the 
 wind, which blew off shore, under all the sail she could crowd. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the Laird, who had sought Mannering for some 
 time, and now joined him, "there they go — there go the free- 
 traders—there go Captain Dirk Hatteraick, and the Yungfrauw 
 Hagenslaapen, half Manks, half Dutchman, half devil ! run out 
 the boltsprit, up main-sail, top and top-gallant sails, royals, and 
 skyscrapers, and away — follow who can ! " That fellow, Mr. Man- 
 nering, is the terror of all the excise and custom-house cruisers ; 
 they can make nothing of him ; he drubs them, or he distances 
 them ; and, speaking of excise, I come to bring you to break- 
 fast ; and you shall have some tea, that " 
 
 Mannering, by this time, was aware that one thought linked 
 strangely on to another in the concatenation of worthy Mr. Ber- 
 tram's ideas, 
 
 " Like orient pearls at random strung ;" 
 
 and, therefore, before the current of his associations had drifted 
 farther from the point he had left, he brought him back by some 
 inquiry about Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " O he's a — a — gude sort of backguard fellow eneugh — naebody 
 cares to trouble him — smuggler, when his guns are in ballast — 
 privateer, or pirate, faith, when he gets them mounted. He has 
 done more mischie'f to the revenue folk than ony rogue that ever 
 came out of Ramsay." 
 
 " But, my good sir, such being his character, I wonder he has 
 any protection and encouragement on this coast." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Mannering, people must have brandy and tea, and 
 there's none in the. country but what comes this way — and then 
 there's short accounts, and maybe a keg or two, or a dozen pounds 
 left at your stable door, instead of a d — d lang account at Christmas 
 from Duncan Robb, the grocer at Kippletringan, who has aye a 
 
44 OUY MANNERING. 
 
 sum to make up, and either wants ready money, or a short-dated 
 bill. Now, Hatteraick will take wood, or he'll take bark, or he'll 
 take barley, or he'll take just what's convenient at the time. I'll 
 tell you a gude story about that. There was ance a laird — that's 
 Macfie of Gudgeonford— he had a great number of kain hens— 
 that's hens that the tenant pays to the landlord, like a sort of rent 
 in kind — they aye feed mine very ill ; Luckie Finniston sent up 
 three that were a shame to be seen only last week, and yet she has 
 twelve bows sowing of victual ; indeed her goodman, Duncan 
 Finniston — that's him that's gone — (we must all die, Mr. Mannering; 
 that's ower true)— and speaking of that, let us live in the mean- 
 while, for here's breakfast on the table, and the Dominie ready to 
 say the grace." 
 
 The Dominie did accordingly pronounce a benediction, that 
 exceeded in length any speech which Mannering had yet heard 
 him utter. The tea, which of course belonged to the noble Captain 
 Hatteraick's trade, was pronounced excellent. Still Mannering 
 hinted, though with due delicacy, at the risk of encouraging such 
 desperate characters : " Were it but in justice to the revenue, I 
 should have supposed " 
 
 "Ah, the revenue-lads" — for Mr. Bertram never embraced a 
 general or abstract idea, and his notion of the revenue was per- 
 sonified in the commissioners, surveyors, comptrollers, and riding 
 officers, whom he happened to know — " the revenue-lads can look 
 sharp eneugh out for themselves — no ane needs to help them— and 
 they have a' the soldiers to assist them besides ; — and as to justice 
 — you'll be surprised to hear it, Mr. Mannering, — but I am not a 
 justice of peace." 
 
 Mannering assumed the expected look of surprise, but thought 
 within himself that the worshipful bench suffered no great de- 
 privation from wanting the assistance of his good-humoured 
 landlord. Mr. Bertram had now hit upon one of the few subjects 
 on which he felt sore, and went on with some energy. 
 
 " No, sir, — the name of Godfrey Bertram of Ellangowan is not 
 in the last commission, though there's scarce a carle in the country 
 that has a ploughgate of land, but what he must ride to quarter- 
 sessions, and write J. P. after his name. I ken fu' weel whom 
 I am obliged to— Sir Thomas Kittlecourt as good as tell'd me 
 he would sit in my skirts if he had not my interest at the last 
 election ; and because I chose to go with my own blood and 
 third cousin, the Laird of Balruddery, they keepit me off the 
 roll of freeholders ; and now there comes a new nomination of 
 justices, and I am left out! And whereas they pretend it was 
 because I let David Mac-Guffog, the constable, draw the warrants, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 43 
 
 and manage the business his ain gate, as if I had been a nose o' 
 wax, it's a main untruth ; for I granted but seven warrants in 
 my life, and the Dominie wrote every one of them — and if it 
 had not been that unlucky business of Sandy Mac-Gruthar's, 
 that the constables should have keepit twa or three days up 
 yonder at the auld castle, just till they could get conveniency to 
 send him to the county jail — and that cost me eneugh o' siller — 
 But I ken wHat Sir Thomas wants very weel — it was just sic and 
 siclike about the seat in the kirk o' Kilmagirdle — was I not entitled 
 to have the front gallery facing the minister, rather than Mac- 
 Crosskie of Creochstone, the son of Deacon Mac-Crosskie, the 
 Dumfries weaver?" 
 
 Mannering expressed his acquiescence in the justice of these 
 various complaints. 
 
 " And then, Mr. Mannering, there was the story about the road, 
 and the fauld-dike — I ken Sir Thomas was behind there, and I said 
 plainly to the clerk to the trustees that I saw the cloven foot, let 
 let them take that as they like. Would any gentleman, or set of 
 gentlemen, go and drive a road right through the corner of a fauld- 
 dike, and take away, as my agent observed to them, like twa roods 
 of gude moorland pasture ? — And there was the story about 
 choosing the collector of the cess " 
 
 " Certainly, sir, it is hard you should meet with any neglect in a 
 country, where, to judge from the extent of their residence, your 
 ancestors must have made a very important figure.'' 
 
 "Very true, Mr. Mannering — I am a plain man, and do not 
 dwell on these things ; and I must needs say, I have little memory 
 for them ; but I wish ye could have heard my father's stories about 
 .he auld fights of the Mac-Dingawaies — that's the Bertrams that 
 now is — wi' the Irish, and wi' the Highlanders, that came here 
 in their berlings from Ilay and Cantire — and how they went to 
 the Holy Land — that is, to Jerusalem and Jericho, wi' a' their clan 
 at their heels — they had better have gaen to Jamaica, like Sir 
 Thomas Kittlecourt's uncle — and how they brought hame relics, 
 like those that Catholics have, and a flag that's up yonder in the 
 garret — if they had been casks of Muscavado, and puncheons of 
 rum, it would have been better for the estate at this day — but 
 there's little comparison between the auld keep at Kittlecourt and 
 the castle o' Ellangowan — I doubt if the keep's forty feet of front — ■ 
 But ye make no breakfast, Mr. Mannering ; ye're no eating your 
 meat ; allow me to recommend some of the kipper — It was John 
 Hay that catcht it, Saturday was three weeks, down at the stream 
 below Hempseed ford," &c. &c. &c. 
 
 The Laird, whose indignation had for some time kept him pretty 
 
46 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 steady to one topic, now launched forth into his usual roving 
 style of conversation, which gave Mannering ample time to 
 reflect upon the disadvantages attending the situation, which, an 
 hour before, he had thought worthy of so much envy. Here was 
 a country gentleman, whose most estimable quality seemed his 
 perfect good nature, secretly fretting himself and murmuring 
 against others, for causes which, compared with any real evil in 
 „ life, must weigh like dust in the balance. But such is the equal 
 distribution of Providence. To those who lie out of the road of 
 great afflictions, are assigned petty vexations, which answer all the 
 purpose of disturbing their serenity ; and every reader must have 
 observed, that neither natural apathy nor acquired philosophy can 
 render country gentlemen insensible to the grievances which occur 
 at elections, quarter-sessions, and meetings of trustees. 
 
 Curious to investigate the manners of the country, Mannering 
 took the advantage of a pause in good Mr. Bertram's string of 
 stories, to inquire what Captain Hatteraick so earnestly wanted 
 with the gipsy woman. 
 
 " Oh, to bless his ship, I suppose. You must know, Mr. Man- 
 nering, that these free-traders, whom the law calls smugglers, 
 having no religion, make it all up in superstition ; and they have 
 as many spells, and charms, and nonsense " 
 
 "Vanity and waur!" said the Dominie : "it is a trafficking with 
 the Evil One. Spells, periapts, and charms, are of his device — 
 choice arrows out of Apollyon's quiver." 
 
 " Hold your peace, Dominie— ye're speaking for ever " — (by the 
 way, they were the first words the poor man had uttered that 
 morning, excepting that he said grace, and returned thanks)— 
 " Mr. Mannering cannot get in a word for ye ! — and so, Mr. Man- 
 nering, talking of astronomy, and spells, and these matters, have 
 ye been so kind as to consider what we were speaking about last 
 night ? " 
 
 " I begin to think, Mr. Bertram, with your worthy friend here, 
 that I have been rather jesting with edge-tools ; and although 
 neither you nor I, nor any sensible man, can put faith in the pre- 
 dictions of astrology, yet, as it has sometimes happened that 
 inquiries into futurity, undertaken in jest, have in their results pro- 
 duced serious and unpleasant effects both upon actions and 
 characters, I really wish you would dispense with my replying to" 
 your question." 
 
 It was easy to see that this evasive answer only rendered the 
 Laird's curiosity more uncontrollable. Mannering, however, was 
 determined in his own mind, not to expose the infant to the incon- 
 veniences which might have arisen from his being supposed the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 47 
 
 object of evil prediction. He therefore delivered the paper into 
 Mr. Bertram's hand, and requested him to keep it for five years 
 with the seal unbroken, until the month of November was expired. 
 After that date had intervened, he left him at liberty to examine the 
 writing, trusting that the first fatal period being then safely over- 
 passed, no credit would be paid to its farther contents. This Mr. 
 Bertram was content to promise, and Mannering, to insure his 
 fidelity, hinted at misfortunes which would certainly take place if 
 his injunctions were neglected. The rest of the day, which Man- 
 nering, by Mr. Bertram's invitation, spent at Ellangowan, passed 
 over without anything remarkable ; and on the morning of that 
 which followed, the traveller mounted his palfrey, bade a courteous 
 adieu to his hospitable landlord and to his clerical attendant, re- 
 peated his good wishes for the prosperity of the family, and then, 
 turning his horse's head towards England, disappeared from the 
 sight of the inmates of Ellangowan. He must also disappear from 
 that of our readers, for it is to another and later period of his life 
 that the present narrative relates. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Next, the Justice, 
 
 In fair round belly, with good capon lined, 
 With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
 Full of wise saws, and modern instances. 
 And so he plays his part. 
 
 When Mrs. Bertram of Ellangowan was able to hear the news 
 of what had passed during her confinement, her apartment rung 
 with all manner of gossiping respecting the handsome young stu- 
 dent from Oxford, who had told such a fortune by the stars to the 
 young Laird, " blessings on his dainty face." The form, accent, 
 and manners of the stranger, were expatiated upon. His horse, 
 bridle, saddle, and stirrups, did not remain unnoticed. All this 
 made a great impression upon the mind of Mrs. Bertram, for the 
 good lady had no small store of superstition. 
 
 Her first employment, when she became capable of a little work, 
 was to make a small velvet bag for the scheme of nativity which 
 she had obtained from her husband. Her fingers itched to break 
 the seal, but credulity proved stronger than curiosity ; and she had 
 the firmness to enclose it, in all its integrity, within two slips of 
 parchment, which she sewed round it, to prevent its being chafed. 
 
48 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 The whole was then put into the velvet bag aforesaid, and hung as 
 a charm round the neck of the infant, where his mother resolved it 
 should remain until the period for the legitimate satisfaction of her 
 curiosity should arrive. 
 
 The father also resolved to do his part by the child, in securing 
 him a good education ; and with the view that it should commence 
 with the first dawnings of reason, Dominie Sampson was easily 
 induced to renounce his public profession of parish schoolmaster, 
 make his constant residence at the Place, and, in consideration of 
 a sum not quite equal to the wages of a footman even at that time, 
 to undertake to communicate to the future Laird of Ellangowan all 
 the erudition which he had, and all the graces and accomplishments 
 which — he had not, indeed, but which he had never discovered that 
 he wanted. In this arrangement the Laird found also his private 
 advantage ; securing the constant benefit of a patient auditor, to 
 whom he told his stories when they were alone, and at whose ex- 
 pense he could break a sly jest when he had company. 
 
 About four years after this time, a great commotion took place in 
 the county where Ellangowan is situated. 
 
 Those who watched the signs of the times, had long been of 
 opinion that a change of ministry was about to take place ; and at 
 length, after a due proportion of hopes, fears, and delays, rumours 
 from good authority and bad authority, and no authority at all ; 
 after some clubs had drank Up with this statesman and others 
 Down with him ; after riding and running and posting, and address- 
 ing and counter-addressing, and proffers of lives and fortunes, the 
 blow was at length struck, the administration of the day was dis- 
 solved, and parliament, as a natural consequence, was dissolved also. 
 
 Sir Thomas Kittlecourt, like other members in the same situa- 
 tion, posted down to his county, and met but an indifferent recep- 
 tion. He was a partisan of the old administration ; and the friends 
 of the new had already set about an active canvass in behalf of 
 John Featherhead, Esq., who kept the best hounds and hunters in 
 the shire. Among others who joined the standard of revolt was 
 
 Gilbert Glossin, writer in , agent for the Laird of Ellangowan. 
 
 This honest gentleman had either been refused some favour by the 
 old member, or, what is as probable, he had got all that he had the 
 most distant pretension to ask, and could only look to the other 
 side for fresh advancement. Mr. Glossin had a vote upon Ellan- 
 gowan's property; and he was now determined that his patron 
 should have one also, there being no doubt which side Mr. Bertram 
 would embrace in the contest. He easily persuaded Ellangowan, 
 that it would be creditable to him to take the field at the head of as 
 strong a party as possible ; and immediately went to work, making 
 
GUY MANNKRING. 49 
 
 votes, as every Scotch lawyer knows how, by splitting and sub- 
 dividing the superiorities upon this ancient and once powerful 
 barony. These were so extensive, that by dint of clipping and 
 paring here, adding and eking there, and creating overlords upon 
 all the estate which Bertram held of the crown, they advanced, at 
 the day of contest, at the head of ten as good men of parchment as 
 ever took the oath of trust and possession. This strong reinforce- 
 ment turned the dubious day of battle. The principal and his 
 agent divided the honour ; the reward fell to the latter exclusively. 
 Mr. Gilbert Glossin was made clerk of the peace, and Godfrey 
 Bertram had his name inserted in a new commission of justices, 
 issued immediately upon the sitting of the parliament. 
 
 This had been the summit of Mr. Bertram's ambition ; not that 
 he liked either the trouble or the responsibility of the office, but he 
 thought it was a dignity to which he was well entitled, and that it 
 had been withheld from him by malice prepense. But there is an 
 old and true Scotch proverb, " Fools should not have chapping 
 sticks ; " that is, weapons of offence. Mr. Bertram was no sooner 
 possessed of the judicial authority which he had so much longed 
 for, than he began to exercise it with more severity than mercy, 
 and totally belied all the opinions which had hitherto been formed 
 of his inert good nature. We have read somewhere of a justice of 
 peace, who, on being nominated in the commission, wrote a letter 
 to a bookseller for the statutes respecting his official duty, in the 
 following orthography, — " Please send the ax relating to a gustus 
 pease." No doubt, when this learned gentleman had possessed 
 himself of the axe, he hewed the laws with it to some purpose. Mr. 
 Bertram was not quite so ignorant of English grammar as his 
 worshipful predecessor: but Augustus Pease himself could not 
 have used more indiscriminately the weapon unwarily put into 
 his hand. 
 
 In good earnest, he considered the commission with which he had 
 been intrusted as a personal mark of favour from his sovereign ; 
 forgetting that he had formerly thought his being deprived of a 
 privilege, or honour, common to those of his rank, was the result of 
 mere party cabal. He commanded his trusty aid-de-camp, Dominie 
 Sampson, to read aloud the commission ; and at the first words, 
 " The king has been pleased to appoint " — "Pleased ! " he exclaimed, 
 in a transport of gratitude. " Honest gentleman ! I'm sure he can- 
 not be better pleased than I am." 
 
 Accordingly, unwilling to confine his gratitude to mere feelings, 
 or verbal expressions, he gave full current to the new-born zeal of 
 office, and endeavoured to express his sense of the honour conferred 
 upon him, by an unmitigated activity in the discharge of his duty. 
 
 D 
 
5 o GUY MANNERING. 
 
 New brooms, it is said, sweep clean ; and I myself can bear witness, 
 that on the arrival of a new housemaid, the ancient, hereditary, and 
 domestic spiders, who have spun their webs over the lower division 
 of my book-shelves (consisting chiefly of law and divinity) during 
 the peaceful reign of her predecessor, fly at full speed before the 
 probationary inroads of the new mercenary. Even so the Laird of 
 Ellangowan ruthlessly commenced his magisterial reform, at the 
 expense of various established and superannuated pickers and 
 stealers, who had been his neighbours for half a century. He 
 wrought his miracles like a second Duke Humphrey ; and by the 
 influence of the beadle's rod caused the lame to walk, the blind to 
 see, and the palsied to labour. He detected poachers, black- 
 fishers, orchard-breakers, and pigeon-shooters ; had the applause 
 of the bench for his reward, and the public credit of an active 
 magistrate. 
 
 All this good had its rateable proportion of evil. Even an ad- 
 mitted nuisance, of ancient standing, should not be abated without 
 some caution. The zeal of our worthy friend now involved in great 
 distress sundry personages whose idle and mendicant habits his own 
 lacliesse had contributed to foster until these habits had become 
 irreclaimable, or whose real incapacity for exertion rendered them 
 fit objects, in their own phrase, for the charity of all well-disposed 
 Christians. The " long remembered beggar," who for twenty years 
 had made his regular rounds within the neighbourhood, received 
 rather as an humble friend than as an object of charity, was sent to 
 the neighbouring workhouse. The decrepit dame, who travelled 
 round the parish upon a hand-barrow, circulating from house to 
 house like a bad shilling, which every one is in haste to pass to his 
 neighbour ; she who used to call for her bearers as loud, or louder, 
 than a traveller demands post-horses, even she shared the same 
 disastrous fate. The " daft Jock," who, half knave, half idiot, had 
 been the sport of each succeeding race of village children for a good 
 part of a century, was remitted to the county bridewell, where, 
 secluded from free air and sunshine, the only advantages he was 
 capable of enjoying, he pined and died in the course of six months. 
 The old sailor, who had so long rejoiced the smoky rafters of every 
 kitchen in the country by singing Captain Ward and Bold Admiral 
 Benbow, was banished from the county for no better reason than 
 that he was supposed to speak with a strong Irish accent. Even 
 the annual rounds of the pedlar were abolished by the Justice in his 
 hasty zeal for the administration of rural police. 
 
 These things did not pass without notice and censure. We are 
 not made of wood or stone, and the things which connect them- 
 selves with our hearts and habits cannot, like bark or lichen, be 
 
GUY MANNERING. SI 
 
 rent away without our missing them. The farmer's dame lacked 
 her usual share of intelligence, perhaps also the self applause which 
 she had felt while distributing the awmous (alms), in shape of a 
 gowpen (handful) of oatmeal, to the mendicant who brought the 
 news. The cottage felt inconvenience from interruption of the 
 petty trade carried on by the itinerant dealers. The children lacked 
 their supply of sugar-plums and toys ; the young women wanted 
 pins, ribbons, combs, and ballads ; and the old could no longer bar- 
 ter their eggs for salt, snuff, and tobacco. All these circumstances 
 brought the busy Laird of Ellangowan into discredit, which wgs 
 the more general on account of his former popularity. Even lvl:9 
 lineage was brought up in judgment against him. They thought 
 " naething of what the like of Greenside, or Burnville, or Viewforth, 
 might do, that were strangers in the country ; but Ellangowan ! 
 that had been a name amang them since the mirk Monanday, and 
 lang before — him to be grinding the puir at that rate ! — They ca'd 
 his grandfather the Wicked Laird ; but though he was whiles 
 fractious aneuch, when he got into roving company, and had ta'en 
 the drap drink, he would have scorned to gang on at this gate. 
 Na, na, the muckle chumlay in the Auld Place reeked like a 
 killogie in his time, and there were as mony puir folk riving at the 
 banes in the court, and about the door, as there were gentles in the 
 ha'. And the leddy, on ilka Christmas night as it came round, gae 
 twelve siller pennies to ilka puir body about, in honour of the 
 twelve apostles like. They were fond to ca' it papistrie; but I think 
 our great folk might take a lesson frae the papists whiles. They gie 
 another sort o' help to puir folk than just dinging down a saxpence 
 in the brod on the Sabbath, and kilting, and scourging, and drum- 
 ing them a' the sax days o' the week besides." 
 
 Such was the gossip over the good twopenny in every alehouse 
 within three or four miles of Ellangowan, that being about the 
 diameter of the orbit in which our friend Godfrey Bertram, Esq., 
 J. P., must be considered as the principal luminary. Still greater 
 scope was given to evil tongues by the removal of a colony of 
 gipsies, with one of whom our reader is somewhat acquainted, and 
 who had for a great many years enjoyed their chief settlement upon 
 the estate of Ellangowan. 
 
 » & 
 
52 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Come, princes of the ragged regiment, 
 You of the blood ! Prigg, my most upright lord, 
 And these, what name or title e'er they bear, 
 Jarkman, or Patrico, Cranke or Clapper-dudgeon, 
 Frater or Abram-man — I speak of all. — 
 
 Beggar's Bush. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the character of those gipsy tribes, which formerly 
 inundated most of the nations of Europe, and which in some 
 degree still subsist among them as a distinct people, is generally 
 understood, the reader will pardon my saying a few words respect- 
 ing their situation in Scotland. 
 
 It is well known that the gipsies were, at an early period, 
 acknowledged as a separate and independent race by one of the 
 Scottish monarchs, and that they were less favourably distinguished 
 by a subsequent law, which rendered the character of gipsy equal, 
 in the judicial balance, to that of common and habitual thief, 
 and prescribed his punishment accordingly. Notwithstanding the 
 severity of this and other statutes, the fraternity prospered amid 
 the distresses of the country, and received large accessions from 
 among those whom famine, oppression, or the sword of war, had 
 deprived of the ordinary means of subsistence. They lost, in a 
 great measure, by this intermixture, the national character of 
 Egyptians, and became a mingled race, having all the idleness 
 and predatory habits of their Eastern ancestors, with a ferocity 
 which they probably borrowed from the men of the north who 
 joined their society. They travelled in different bands, and had 
 rules among themselves, by which each tribe was confined to its 
 own district. The slightest invasion of the precincts which had 
 been assigned to another tribe produced desperate skirmishes, in 
 which there was often much blood shed. 
 
 The patriotic Fletcher of Saltoun drew a picture of these 
 banditti about a century ago, which my readers will peruse with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " There are at this day in Scotland (besides a great many poor 
 families very meanly provided for by the church boxes, with others, 
 who, by living on bad food, fall into various diseases) two hundred 
 thousand people begging from door to door. These are not only 
 no way advantageous, but a very grievous burden to so poor a 
 country. And though the number of them be perhaps double to 
 what it was formerly, by reason of this present great distress, yet 
 in all times there have been about one hundred thousand of those 
 
GUY MANNERING. S3 
 
 vagabonds, who have lived without any regard or subjection either 
 to the laws of the land, or even those of God and nature. * * * 
 No magistrate could ever discover, or be informed, which way one 
 in a hundred of these wretches died, or that ever they were bap- 
 tized. Many murders have been discovered among them ; and 
 they are not only a most unspeakable oppression to poor tenants 
 (who, if they give not bread, or some kind of provision to perhaps 
 forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by them), but 
 they rob many poor people who live in houses distant from any 
 neighbourhood. In years of plenty many thousands of them meet 
 together in the mountains, where they feast and riot for many days ; 
 and at country weddings, markets, burials, and other the like public 
 occasions, they are to be seen, both man and woman, perpetually 
 drunk, cursing, blaspheming, and fighting together." 
 
 Notwithstanding the deplorable picture presented in this extract, 
 and which Fletcher himself, though the energetic and eloquent 
 friend of freedom, saw no better mode of correcting than by intro- 
 ducing fa system of domestic slavery, the progress of time, and 
 increase both of the means of life and of the power of the laws, 
 gradually reduced this dreadful evil within more narrow bounds, 
 The tribes of gipsies, jockeys, or cairds, — for by all these denomi- 
 nations such banditti were known, — became few in number, and 
 many were entirely rooted out. Still, however, a sufficient number 
 remained to give occasional alarm and constant vexation. Some 
 rude handicrafts were entirely resigned to these itinerants, par- 
 ticularly the art of trencher-making, of manufacturing horn-spoons,, 
 and the whole mystery of the tinker. To these they added a petty 
 trade in the coarse sorts 'of earthen-ware. Such were their osten- 
 sible means of livelihood. Each tribe had usually some fixed 
 place of rendezvous, which they occasionally occupied and con- 
 sidered as their standing camp, and in the vicinity of which they 
 generally abstained from depredation. They had even talents and 
 accomplishments, which made them occasionally useful and enter- 
 taining. Many cultivated music with success ; and the favourite 
 fiddler or piper of a district was often to be found in a gipsy town. 
 They understood all out-of-door sports, especially otter-hunting, 
 fishing, or finding game. They bred the best and boldest terriers, 
 and sometimes had good pointers for sale. In winter, the women 
 told fortunes, the men showed tricks of legerdemain ; and these 
 accomplishments often helped to while away a weary or stormy 
 evening in the circle of the " farmer's ha'." The wildness of their 
 character, and the indomitable pride with which they despised all 
 regular labour, commanded a' certain awe, which was not dimi- 
 nished by the consideration that these strollers were a vindictive 
 
54 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 race, and were restrained by no check, either of fear or conscience, 
 from taking desperate vengeance upon those who had offended 
 them. These tribes were, in short, the P arias of Scotland, living 
 like wild Indians among European settlers, and, like them, judged 
 of rather by their own customs, habits, and opinions, than as if they 
 had been members of the civilized part of the community. Some 
 hordes of them yet remain, chiefly in such situations as afford a 
 ready escape either into a waste country, or into another jurisdic- 
 tion. Nor are the features of their character much softened. Their 
 numbers, however, are so greatly diminished, that, instead of one 
 hundred thousand, as calculated by Fletcher, it would now perhaps 
 be impossible to collect above five hundred throughout all Scotland. 
 
 A tribe of these itinerants, to whom Meg Mcrrilies appertained, 
 had long been as stationary as their habits permitted, in a glen 
 upon the estate of Ellangowan. They had there erected a few huts, 
 which they denominated their " city of refuge," and where, when 
 not absent on excursions, they harboured unmolested, as the crows 
 that roosted in the old ash-trees around them. They had been 
 such long occupants, that they were considered in some degree as 
 proprietors of the wretched shealings which they inhabited. This 
 protection they were said anciently to have repaid, by service to the 
 laird in war, or, more frequently, by infesting or plundering the 
 lands of those neighbouring barons with whom he chanced to be at 
 feud. Latterly, their services were of a more pacific nature. The 
 women spun mittens for the lady, and knitted boot hose for the 
 laird, which were annually presented at Christmas with great form. 
 The aged sibyls blessed the bridal bed of the laird when he 
 married, and the cradle of the heir when born. The men repaired 
 her ladyship's cracked china, and assisted the laird in his sporting 
 parties, wormed his dogs, and cut the ears of his terrier puppies. 
 The children gathered nuts in the woods, and cranberries in the 
 moss, and mushrooms on the pastures, for tribute to the Place. 
 These acts of voluntary service, and acknowledgements of depen- 
 dence, were rewarded by protection on some occasions, connivance 
 on others, and broken victuals, ale and brandy, when circumstances 
 called for a display of generosity ; and this mutual intercourse of 
 good offices, which had been carried on for at least two centuries, 
 rendered the inhabitants of Derncleugh a kind of privileged re- 
 tainers upon the estate of Ellangowan. " The knaves " were' the 
 Laird's " exceeding good friends ; " and he would have deemed 
 himself very ill-used, if his countenance could not now and then 
 have borne them out against the law of the country and the local 
 magistrate. But this friendly union was soon to be dissolved. 
 
 The community of Derncleugh, who cared for no rogues but 
 
GUY MANNERING. 55 
 
 their own, were wholly without alarm at the severity of the justice's 
 proceedings towards other itinerants. They had no doubt that he 
 determined to suffer no mendicants or strollers in the country but 
 what resided on his own property, and practised their trade by his 
 immediate permission, implied or expressed. Nor was Mr. Bertram 
 in a hurry to exert his newly-acquired authority at the expense of 
 these old settlers. But he was driven on by circumstances. 
 
 At the quarter-sessions, our new justice was publicly upbraided 
 by a gentleman of the opposite party in county politics, that, while 
 he affected a great zeal for the public police, and seemed ambitious 
 of the fame of an active magistrate, he fostered a tribe of the 
 greatest rogues in the country, and permitted them to harbour 
 within a mile of the house of Ellangowan. To this there was no 
 reply, for the fact was too evident and well-known. The Laird 
 digested the taunt as he best could, and in his way home amused 
 himself with speculations on the easiest method of ridding himself 
 of these vagrants who brought a stain upon his fair fame as a magis- 
 trate. Just as he had resolved to take the first opportunity of 
 quarrelling with the Parias of Derncleugh, a cause of provocation 
 presented itself. 
 
 Since our friend's advancement to be a conservator of the peace, 
 he had caused the gate at the head of his avenue, which formerly, 
 having only one hinge, remained at all times hospitably open — he 
 had caused this gate, I say, to be newly hung and handsomely 
 painted. He had also shut up with paling, curiously twisted with 
 furze, certain holes in the fences adjoining, through which the gipsy 
 boys used to scramble into the plantations to gather birds' nests 
 the seniors of the village to make a short cut from one point to 
 another, and the lads and lasses for evening rendezvous, — all with- 
 out offence taken, or leave asked. But these halcyon days were 
 now to have an end, and a minatory inscription on one side of the 
 gate intimated "prosecution according to law" (the painter had 
 spelt it persecution — l'un vaut bien l'autre) to all who should be 
 found trespassing on these enclosures. On the other side, for 
 uniformity's sake, was a precautionary annunciation of spring-guns 
 and man-traps of such formidable power, that, said the rubrick, 
 with an emphatic nota bene — " if a man goes in, they will break a 
 horse's leg." 
 
 In defiance of these threats, six well-grown gipsy boys and girls 
 were riding cock-horse upon the new gate, and plaiting May- 
 flowers, which it was but too evident had been gathered within the 
 forbidden precincts. With as much anger as he was capable of 
 feeling, or perhaps of assuming, the Laird commanded them to 
 descend ;— they paid no attention to his mandate ; he then began 
 
56 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 to pull them down one after another ;— they resisted, passively at 
 least, .each sturdy bronzed varlet making himself as heavy as he 
 could, or climbing up as fast as he was dismounted. 
 
 The Laird then called in the assistance of his servant, a surly 
 fellow, who had immediate recourse to his horse-whip. A few 
 lashes sent the party a scampering ; and thus commenced the first 
 breach of the peace between the house of Ellangowan and the 
 gipsies oi Derncleugh. 
 
 The latter could not for some time imagine that the war was 
 real ; — until they found that their children were horse-whipped by 
 the grieve when found trespassing ; that their asses were poinded 
 by the ground officer when left in the plantations, or even when 
 turned to graze by the road-side, against the provision of the turn- 
 pike acts ; that the constable began to make curious inquiries into 
 their mode of gaining a livelihood, and expressed his surprise that 
 the men should sleep in the hovels all day and be abroad the 
 greater part of the night. 
 
 When matters came to this point, the gipsies, without scruple, 
 entered upon measures of retaliation. Ellangowan's hen-roosts 
 were plundered, his linen stolen from the lines or bleaching-ground, 
 his fishings poached, his dogs kidnapped, his growing trees cut or 
 barked. Much petty mischief was done, and some evidently for 
 the mischiefs sake. On the other hand, warrants went forth, with- 
 out mercy, to pursue, search for, take, and apprehend ; and, not- 
 withstanding their dexterity, one or two of the depredators were 
 unable to avoid conviction. One, a stout young fellow, who some- 
 times had gone to sea a-fishing, was handed over to the Captain 
 
 of the impress service at D ; two children were soundly flogged, 
 
 and one Egyptian matron sent to the house of correction. 
 
 Still, however, the gipsies made no motion to leave the spot 
 which they had so long inhabited, and Mr. Bertram felt an un- 
 willingness to deprive them of their ancient "city of refuge ;" so 
 that the petty warfare we have noticed continued for several 
 months, without increase or abatement of hostilities on either 
 side. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 57 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 So the red Indian, by Ontario's side, 
 
 Nursed hardy on the brindled panther's hide, 
 
 As fades his swarthy race, with anguish sees 
 
 The white man's cottage rise beneath the trees : 
 
 He leaves the shelter of his native wood, 
 
 He leaves the murmur of Ohio's flood, 
 
 And forward rushing in indignant grief, 
 
 Where never foot has trod the fallen leaf, 
 
 He bends his course where twilight reigns sublime, 
 
 O'er forests silent since the birth of time. 
 
 Scenes of Infancy. 
 
 In tracing the rise and progress of the Scottish Maroon war, we 
 must not omit to mention that years had rolled on, and that little 
 Harry Bertram, one of the hardiest and most lively children that 
 ever made a sword and grenadier's^ cap of rushes, now approached 
 his fifth revolving birth-day. A hardihood of disposition, which 
 early developed itself, made him already a little wanderer ; he was 
 well acquainted with every patch of lea ground and dingle around 
 Ellangowan, and could tell in his broken language upon what 
 baulks grew the bonniest flowers, and what copse had the ripest 
 nuts. He repeatedly terrified his attendants by clambering about 
 the ruins of the old castle, and had more than once made a stolen 
 excursion as far as the gipsy hamlet. 
 
 On these, occasions he was generally brought back by Meg 
 Merrilees, who, though she could not be prevailed upon to enter 
 the place of Ellangowan after her nephew had been given up to 
 the press-gang, did not apparently extend her resentment to the 
 child. On the contrary, she often contrived to waylay him in his 
 walks, sing him a gipsy song, give him a ride upon her jackass, 
 and thrust into his pocket a piece of gingerbread, or a red-cheeked 
 apple. This woman's ancient attachment to the family, repelled 
 and checked in every other direction, seemed to rejoice in having 
 some object on which it could yet repose and expand itself. She 
 prophesied a hundred times, " that young Mr. Harry would be the 
 pride o' the family, and there hadna been sic a sprout frae the auld 
 aik since the death of Arthur Mac-Dingawaie, that was killed in the 
 battle o' the Bloody Bay ; as for the present stick, it was good for 
 naething but fire-wood." On one occasion, when the child was ill, 
 she lay all night below the window, chaunting a rhyme which she 
 believed sovereign as a febrifuge, and could neither be prevailed 
 upon to enter the house, nor to leave the station she had chosen 
 till she was informed that the crisis was over. 
 
58 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 The affection of this woman became matter of suspicion, not 
 indeed to the Laird, who was never hasty in suspecting evil, but to 
 his wife, who had indifferent health and poor spirits. She was now 
 far advanced in a second pregnancy, and, as she could not walk 
 abroad herself, and the woman who attended upon Harry was 
 young and thoughtless, she prayed Dominie Sampson to undertake 
 the task of watching the boy in his rambles, when he should not be 
 otherwise accompanied. The Dominie loved his young charge, 
 and was enraptured with his own success, in having already 
 brought him so far in his learning as to spell words of three 
 syllables. The idea of this early prodigy of erudition being carried off 
 by the gipsies, like a second Adam Smith,* was not to be tolerated; 
 and accordingly, though the charge was contrary to all his habits 
 of life, he readily undertook it, and might be seen stalking about 
 with a mathematical problem in his head, and his eye upon a child 
 of five years old, whose rambles led him into a hundred awkward 
 situations. Twice was the Dominie chased by a cross-grained 
 cow, once he fell into the brook crossing at the stepping-stones, 
 and another time was bogged up to the middle in the slough of 
 Lochend, in attempting to gather a water-lily for the young Laird. 
 It was the opinion of the village matrons who relieved Sampson 
 upon the latter occasion, "that the Laird might as weel trust the 
 care o' his bairn to a potato bogle ;" but the good Dominie bore 
 all his disasters with gravity and serenity equally imperturbable. 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous !" was the only ejaculation they ever extorted from 
 the much-enduring man. 
 
 The Laird had by this time determined to make root-and-branch 
 work with the Maroons of Derncleugh. The old servants shook 
 their heads at his proposal, and even Dominie Sampson ventured 
 upon an indirect remonstrance. As, however, it was couched in 
 the oracular phrase, "JVe moveas Camerinam," neither the allusion, 
 nor the language in which it was expressed, were calculated for 
 Mr. Bertram's edification, and matters proceeded against the 
 gipsies in form of law. Every door in the hamlet was chalked by 
 the ground-officer, in token of a formal warning to remove at next 
 term. Still, however, they showed no symptoms either of sub- 
 mission or of compliance. At length the term-day, the fatal 
 Martinmas, arrived, and violent measures of ejection were resorted 
 to. A strong posse of peace-officers, sufficient to render all re- 
 sistance vain, charged the inhabitants to depart by noon ; and, as 
 they did not obey, the officers, in terms of their warrant, proceeded 
 to unroof the cottages, and pull down the wretched doors and 
 windows,-— a summary and effectual mode of ejection, still practised 
 in some remote parts of Scotland, when a tenant proves refractory. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 59 
 
 The gipsies, for a time, beheld the work of destruction in sullen 
 silence and inactivity ; then set about saddling and loading their 
 asses, and making preparations for their departure. These were 
 soon accomplished, where all had the habits of wandering Tartars ; 
 and they set forth on their journey to seek new settlements, where 
 their patrons should neither be of the quorum, nor custos rotu- 
 lorum. 
 
 Certain qualms of feeling had deterred Ellangowan from attend- 
 ing in person to see his tenants expelled. He left the executive 
 part of the business to the officers of the law, under the immediate 
 direction of Frank Kennedy, a supervisor, or riding-officer, belong- 
 ing to the excise, who had of late become intimate at the Place, 
 and of whom we shall have more to say in the next chapter. Mr. 
 Bertram himself chose that day to make a visit to a friend at some 
 distance. But it so happened, notwithstanding his precautions, 
 that he could not avoid meeting his late tenants during their retreat 
 from his property. 
 
 It was in a hollow way, near the top of a steep ascent, upon the 
 verge of the Ellangowan estate, that Mr. Bertram met the gipsy 
 procession. Four or five men formed the advanced guard, wrapped 
 in long loose great-coats that hid their tall slender figures, as the 
 large slouched hats, drawn over their brows, concealed their wild 
 features, dark eyes, and swarthy faces. Two of them carried long 
 fowling-pieces, one wore a broadsword without a sheath, and all 
 had the Highland dirk, though they did not wear that weapon 
 openly or ostentatiously. Behind them followed the train of laden 
 asses, and small carts or tumblers, as they were called in that 
 country, on which were laid the decrepit and the helpless, the aged 
 and infant part of the exiled community. The women in their red 
 cloaks and straw hats, the elder children with bare heads and bare 
 feet, and almost naked bodies, had the immediate care of the little 
 caravan. The road was narrow, running between two broken 
 banks of sand, and Mr. Bertram's servant rode forward, smacking 
 his whip with an air of authority, and motioning to the drivers to 
 allow free passage to their betters. His signal was unattended* to. 
 He then called to the men who lounged idly on before, " Stand to 
 your beasts' heads, and make room for the Laird to pass." 
 
 " He shall have his share of the road," answered a male gipsy 
 from under his slouched and large-brimmed hat, and without 
 raising his face, " and he shall have nae mair ; the highway is as 
 free to our cuddies as to his gelding." 
 
 The tone of the man being sulky, and even menacing, Mr. 
 Bertram thought it best to put his dignity in his pocket, and pass 
 by the procession quietly, on such space as they chose to leave for 
 
6o GUY MANNERING. 
 
 his accommodation, which was narrow enough. To cover with an 
 appearance of indifference his feeling of the want of respect with 
 which he was treated, he addressed one of the men, as he passed 
 him without any show of greeting, salute, or recognition,—" Giles 
 Baillie," he said, " have you heard that your son Gabriel is well ?" 
 (The question respected the young man who had been pressed.) 
 
 " If I had heard otherwise," said the old man, looking up with a 
 stern and menacing countenance, " you should have heard of it 
 too." And he plodded on his way, tarrying no farther questions.* 
 When the Laird had pressed on with difficulty among a crowd of 
 familiar faces, which had on all former occasions marked his 
 approach with the reverence due to that of a superior being, but in 
 which he now only read hatred and contempt, and had got clear 
 of the throng, he could not help turning his horse, and looking 
 back to mark the progress of their march. The group would have 
 been an excellent subject for the pencil of Calotte. The van had 
 already reached a small and stunted thicket, which was at the 
 bottom of the hill, and which gradually hid the line of march until 
 the last stragglers disappeared. 
 
 His sensations were bitter enough. The race, it is true, which 
 he had thus summarily dismissed from their ancient place of 
 refuge, was idle and vicious ; but had he endeavoured to render 
 them otherwise ? They were not more irregular characters now, 
 than they had been while they were admitted to consider them- 
 selves as a sort of subordinate dependents of his family ; and ought 
 the mere circumstance of his becoming a magistrate to have made 
 at once such a change in his conduct towards them ? Some means 
 .if reformation ought at least to have been tried, before sending 
 .seven families at once upon the wide world, and depriving them of 
 a degree of countenance, which withheld them at least from atro- 
 cious guilt. There was also a natural yearning of heart on parting 
 with so many known and familiar faces ; and to this feeling 
 Godfrey Bertram was peculiarly accessible, from the limited 
 qualities of his mind, which sought its principal amusements 
 among the petty objects around him. As he was about to turn his 
 horse's head to pursue his journey, Meg Merrilees, who had lagged 
 behind the troop, unexpectedly presented herself. 
 
 She was standing upon one of those high precipitous banks, 
 which, as we before noticed, overhung the road ; so that she was 
 placed considerably higher than Ellangowan, even though he was 
 on horseback ; and her tall figure, relieved against the clear blue 
 sky, seemed almost of supernatural stature. We have noticed, that 
 there was in her general attire, or rather in her mode of adjusting 
 it, somewhat of a foreign costume, artfully adopted perhaps for the 
 
GUY MANNERING. Gi 
 
 purpose of adding to the effect of her spells and predictions, or 
 perhaps from some traditional notions respecting the dress of her 
 ancestors. On this occasion, she had a large piece of red cotton 
 cloth rolled about her head in the form of a turban, from beneath 
 which her dark eyes flashed with uncommon lustre. Her long and 
 tangled black hair fell in elf-locks from the folds of this singular 
 head-gear. Her attitude was that of a sibyl in frenzy, and she 
 stretched out, in her right hand, a sapling bough which seemed 
 just pulled. 
 
 " I'll be d d," said the groom, " if she has not been cutting 
 
 the young ashes in the Dukit park ! " — The Laird made no answer, 
 but continued to look at the figure which was thus perched above 
 his path. 
 
 " Ride your ways," said the gipsy, " ride your ways, Laird of 
 Ellangowan — ride your ways, Godfrey Bertram ! — This day have 
 ye quenched seven smoking hearths — see if the fire in your ain 
 parlour burn the blyther for that. Ye have riven the thack off 
 seven cottar houses — look if your ain roof-tree stand the faster. — 
 Ye may stable your stirks in the shealings at Derncleugh — see that 
 the hare does not couch on the hearthsta'ne at Ellangowan. — Ride 
 your ways, Godfrey Bertram — what do ye glower after our folk for? 
 — There's thirty hearts there, that wad hae wanted bread ere ye had 
 wanted sunkets (delicacies) ; and spent their life-blood ere ye had 
 scratched your finger. Yes — there's thirty yonder, from the auld 
 wife of an hundred to the babe that was born last week, that ye 
 have turned out o' their bits o' bields, to sleep with the tod and the 
 blackcock in the muirs ! — Ride your ways, Ellangowan. — Our 
 bairns are hinging at our weary backs — look that your braw cradle 
 at hame be the fairer spread up : — not that I am wishing ill to little 
 Harry, or to the babe that's yet to be born — God forbid — and make 
 them kind to the poor, and better folk than their father ! — And 
 now, ride e'en your ways ; for these are the last words ye'll ever 
 hear Meg Merrilees speak, and this is the last reise that I'll ever 
 cut in the bonny woods of Ellangowan." 
 
 So saying, she broke the sapling she held in her hand, and flung 
 it into the road. Margaret of Anjou, bestowing on her triumphant 
 foes her keen-edged malediction, could not have turned from them 
 with a gesture more proudly contemptuous. The Laird was clear- 
 ing his voice to speak, and thrusting his hand in his pocket to find 
 a half-crown ; the gipsy waited neither for his reply nor his dona- 
 tion, but strode down the hill to overtake the caravan. 
 
 Ellangowan rode pensively home ; and it was remarkable that 
 he did not mention this interview to any of his family. The groom 
 was not so reserved : he told the story at great length to a full 
 
62 GUY MANNER1NG. 
 
 audience in the kitchen, and concluded by swearing, that " if ever 
 the devil spoke by the mouth of a woman, he had spoken by that 
 of Meg Merrilees that blessed day." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Paint Scotland greeting ower her thrissle, 
 Her mutchkin stoup as toom's a whistle, 
 And d — n'd excisemen in a bustle, 
 
 Seizing a stell ; 
 Triumphant crushin't like a mussell, 
 
 Or lampit shell. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 During the period of Mr. Bertram's active magistracy, he did 
 not forget the affairs of the revenue. Smuggling, for which the 
 Isle of Man then afforded peculiar facilities, was general, or rather 
 universal, all along the south-western coast of Scotland. Almost 
 all the common people were engaged in these practices ; the gentry 
 connived at them, and the officers of the revenue were frequently 
 discountenanced in the exercise of their duty, by those who should 
 have protected them. 
 
 There was, at this period, employed as a riding officer or super- 
 visor, in that part of the country, a certain Francis Kennedy, already 
 named in our narrative ; a stout, resolute, and active man, who had 
 made seizures to a great amount, and was proportionately hated by 
 those who had an interest in the fair trade, as they called the pur- 
 suit of these contraband adventurers. This person was natural son 
 to a gentleman of good family, owing to which circumstance, and 
 to his being of a jolly convivial disposition, and singing a good 
 song, he was admitted to the occasional society of the gentlemen of 
 the country, and was a member of several of their clubs for prac- 
 tising athletic games, at which he was particularly expert. 
 
 At Ellangowan, Kennedy was a frequent and always an accept- 
 able guest. His vivacity relieved Mr. Bertram of the trouble of 
 thought, and the labour which it cost him to support a detailed 
 communication of ideas ; while the daring and dangerous exploits 
 which he had undertaken in the discharge of his office, formed 
 excellent conversation. To all these revenue adventures did 
 the Laird of Ellangowan seriously incline, and the amusement 
 which he derived from Kennedy's society formed an excellent 
 .reason for countenancing and assisting the narrator in the execu- 
 tion of his invidious and hazardous duty. 
 
 " Frank Kennedy," he said, " was a gentleman, though on the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 63 
 
 wrang side of the blanket — he was connected with the family of 
 Ellangowan through the house of Glengubble. The last Laird of 
 Glengubble would have brought the estate into the Ellangowan 
 line ; but happening to go to Harrigate, he there met with Miss 
 Jean Hadaway — by the by, the Green Dragon at Harrigate is the 
 best house of the twa ; — but for Frank Kennedy, he's in one sense 
 a gentleman born, and it's a shame not to support him against 
 these blackguard smugglers." 
 
 After this league had taken place between judgment and execu- 
 tion, it chanced that Captain Dirk Hatteraick had landed a cargo 
 of spirits, and other contraband goods, upon the beach not far from 
 Ellangowan, and, confiding in the indifference with which the Laird 
 had formerly regarded similar infractions of the law, he was neither 
 very anxious to conceal nor to expedite the transaction. The con- 
 sequence was, that Mr. Frank Kennedy, armed with a warrant from 
 Ellangowan, and supported by some of the Laird's people who 
 knew the country, and by a party of military, poured down upon 
 the kegs, bales, and bags, and after a desperate affray, in which 
 severe wounds were given and received, succeeded in clapping the 
 broad arrow upon the articles, and bearing them off in triumph to 
 the next custom-house. Dirk Hatteraick vowed, in Dutch, Ger- 
 man, and English, a deep and full revenge, both against the gauger 
 and his abettors ; and all who knew him thought it likely he would 
 keep his word. 
 
 A few days after the departure of the gipsy tribe, Mr. Bertram 
 asked his lady one morning at breakfast, whether this was not 
 little Harry's birthday ? 
 
 " Five years auld exactly, this blessed day," answered the lady ; 
 " so we may look into the English gentleman's paper." 
 
 Mr. Bertram liked to show his authority in trifles. " No, my 
 dear, not till to-morrow. The last time I was at quarter-sessions, 
 the sheriff told us that dies — that dies incefitus — in short, you don't 
 understand Latin, but it means that a term-day is not begun till 
 it's ended." 
 
 " That sounds like nonsense, my dear." 
 
 " May be so, my dear ; but it may be very good law for all that. 
 I am sure, speaking of term-days, I wish, as Frank Kennedy says, 
 that Whitsunday would kill Martinmas, and be hanged for the 
 murder — for there I have got a letter about that interest of Jenny 
 Cairns's, and deil a tenant's been at the Place yet wi' a boddle of 
 rent, — nor will not till Candlemas — but, speaking of Frank Ken- 
 nedy, I dare say he'll be here the day, for he was away round to 
 Wigton to warn a king's ship that's lying in the bay about Dirk 
 Hatteraick's lugger being on the coast again, and he'll be back this 
 
04 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 day ; so we'll have a bottle of claret, and drink little Harry's 
 health." 
 
 " I wish," replied the lady, " Frank Kennedy would let Dirk 
 Hatteraick alane. What needs he make himself mair busy than 
 other folk ? Cannot he sing his sang, and take his drink, and draw 
 his salary, like Collector Snail, honest man, that never fashes ony- 
 body? And I wonder at you, Laird, for meddling and making- 
 Did we ever want to send for tea or brandy frae the Borough-town, 
 when Dirk Hatteraick used to come quietly into the bay ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Bertram, you know nothing of these matters. Do you 
 think it becomes a magistrate to let his own house be made a 
 receptacle for smuggled goods ? Frank Kennedy will show you 
 the penalties in the act, and ye ken yoursell they used to put their 
 run goods into the Auld Place of Ellangowan, up by there." 
 
 " Oh, dear, Mr. Bertram, and what the waur were the wa's and 
 the vault o' the auld castle for having a wheen kegs o' brandy in them 
 at an orra time ? I am sure ye were not obliged to ken ony thing 
 about it ; and what the w.iur was the King that the lairds here got 
 a soup o' drink, and the ladies their drap o' tea, at a reasonable 
 rate ? — it's a shame to them to pit such taxes on them ! — and was na 
 I much the better of these Flanders head and pinners, that Dirk 
 Hatteraick sent me a' the way from Antwerp ? It will be lang or 
 the King sends me onything, or Frank Kennedy either. And then 
 ye would quarrel with these gipsies too ! I expect every day to 
 hear the barn-yard's in a lowe." 
 
 " I tell you once more, my dear, you don't understand these 
 things — and there's Frank Kennedy coming galloping up the 
 avenue." 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, Ellangowan," said the lady, raising her voice as 
 the Laird left the room, " I wish ye may understand them, yoursell, 
 that's a'!" 
 
 From this nuptial dialogue the Laird joyfully escaped to meet his 
 faithful friend, Mr. Kennedy, who .arrived in high spirits. " For 
 the love of life, Ellangowan," he said, " get up to the Castle ! you'll 
 see that old fox Dirk Hatteraick, and his Majesty's hounds in full 
 cry after him." So saying, he flung his horse's bridle to a boy, and 
 ran up the ascent to the old castle, followed by the Laird, and 
 indeed by several others of the family, alarmed by the sound of 
 guns from the sea, now distinctly heard. 
 
 On gaining that part of the ruins which commanded the most 
 extensive outlook, they saw a lugger, with all her canvas crowded, 
 standing across the bay, closely pursued by a sloop of war, that 
 kept firing upon the chase from her bows, which the lugger returned 
 with her stern-chasers. "They're but at long bowls yet," cried 
 
Ik 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 1 
 
 $ 
 
GUY MANNERING. 6j 
 
 Kennedy, in great exultation, " but they will be closer by and by. 
 
 D — n him, he's starting his cargo ! I see the good Nantz 
 
 pitching overboard, keg after keg ! — that's a d d ungenteel 
 
 thing of Mr. Hatteraick, as I shall let him know by and by. — Now, 
 now ! they've got the wind of him ! — that's it, that's it ! — Hark to 
 him ! hark to him ! Now, my clogs ! now, my dogs ! — hark to 
 Ranger, hark ! " 
 
 " I think," said the old gardener to one of the maids, " the 
 ganger's Jiey " by which word the common people express those 
 violent spirits which they think a presage of death. 
 
 Meantime the chase continued. The lugger, being piloted with 
 great ability, and using every nautical shift to make her escape, 
 had now reached, and was about to double, the headland which 
 formed the extreme point of land on the left side of the bay, when 
 a ball having hit the yard in the slings, the main-sail fell upon the 
 deck. The consequence of this accident appeared inevitable, but 
 could not be seen by the spectators ; for the vessel, which had just 
 doubled the headland, lost steerage, and fell out of their sight 
 behind the promontory. The sloop of war crowded all sail to pur- 
 sue, but she had stood too close upon the cape, so that they were 
 obliged to wear the vessel for fear of going ashore, and to make a 
 large tack back into the bay, in order to recover sea-room enough 
 to double the headland. 
 
 " They'll lose her, by ! — cargo and lugger, one or both,'' 
 
 said Kennedy. " I must gallop away to the Point of Warroch (this 
 was the headland so often mentioned), and make them a signal 
 where she has drifted to on the other side. Good-by for an hour, 
 Ellangowan — get out the gallon punch-bowl, and plenty of lemons. 
 I'll stand for the French article by the time I come back, and we'll 
 drink the young Laird's health in a bowl that would swim the 
 Collector's yawl." So saying, he mounted his horse and galloped 
 off. 
 
 About a mile from the house, and upon the verge of the woods, 
 which, as we have said, covered a promontory terminating in the 
 cape called the Point of Warroch, Kennedy met young Harry 
 Bertram, attended by his tutor, Dominie Sampson. He had often 
 promised the child a ride upon his galloway ; and, from singing, 
 dancing, and playing Punch for his amusement, was a particular 
 favourite. He no sooner came scampering up the path, than the 
 boy loudly claimed his promise ; and Kennedy, who saw no risk in 
 indulging him, and wished to tease the Dominie, in whose visage 
 he read a remonstrance, caught up Harry from the ground, placed 
 him before him, and continued Jiis route ; Sampson's " Peradven- 
 ture, Master Kennedy " being lost in the clatter of his horse's 
 
66 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 feet. The pedagogue hesitated a. moment whether he should go 
 after them ; but Kennedy being a person in full confidence of the 
 family, and with whom he himself had no delight in associating, 
 "being that he was addicted unto profane and scurrilous jests," he 
 continued his own walk at his own pace, till he reached the Place 
 of Ellangowan. 
 
 The spectators from the ruined walls of the castle were still 
 watching the sloop of war, which at length, but not without the loss 
 of considerable time, recovered sea-room enough to weather the 
 Point of Warroch, and was lost to their sight behind that wooded 
 promontory. Some time afterwards the discharges of several 
 cannon were heard at a distance, and, after an interval, a still louder 
 explosion, as of a vessel blown up, and a cloud of smoke rose above 
 the trees, and mingled with the blue sky. All then separated on 
 their different occasions, auguring variously upon the fate of the 
 smuggler, but the majority insisting that her capture was inevitable, 
 if she had not already gone to the bottom. 
 
 " It is near our dinner-time, my dear," said Mrs. Bertram to her 
 husband ; "will it be lang before Mr. Kennedy comes back? " 
 
 " I expect him every moment, my dear," said the Laird ; " per- 
 haps he is bringing some of the officers of the sloop with him." 
 
 " My stars, Mr. Bertram ! why did not ye tell me this before, that 
 we might have had the large round table ? — and then, they're a' 
 tired o' saut meat, and, to tell you the plain truth, a rump o' beef is 
 the best part of your dinner — and then I wad have put on another 
 gown, and ye wadna have been the waur o' a clean neckcloth your- 
 sell— But ye delight in surprising and hurrying one — I am sure I 
 am no to haud out for ever against this sort of going on — But when 
 folk's missed, then they are moaned." 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! deuce take the beef, and the gown, and table, 
 and the neckcloth ! — we shall do all very well. — Where's the 
 Dominie, John ? — (to a servant who was busy about the table)— 
 where's the Dominie and little Harry?" 
 
 " Mr. Sampson's been at hame these twa hours and mair, but I 
 dinna think Mr. Harry cam hame wi' him." 
 
 " Not come hame wi' him ? " said the lady ; " desire Mr. Sampson 
 to step this way directly." 
 
 " Mr. Sampson," said she, upon his entrance, " is it not the most 
 extraordinary thing in this world wide, that you, that have free up- 
 putting — bed, board, and washing — and twelve pounds sterling 
 a-year, just to look after that boy, should let him out of your sight 
 for twa or three hours ? " 
 
 Sampson made a bow of humble acknowledgment at each pause 
 which the angry lady made in her enumeration of the advantages of 
 
GUY MANNERING. 6f 
 
 his situation, in order to give more weight to her remonstrance, and 
 then, in words which we will not do him the injustice to imitate, 
 told how Mr. Francis Kennedy " had assumed spontaneously the 
 charge of Master Harry, in despite of his remonstrances in the 
 contrary." 
 
 " I am very little obliged to Mr. Francis Kennedy for his pains,'' 
 said the lady, peevishly. " Suppose he lets the boy drop from his 
 horse, and lames him ? or suppose one of the cannons comes 
 ashore and kills him ? — or suppose " 
 
 " Or suppose, my dear," said Ellangowan, " what is much more 
 likely than anything else, that they have gone aboard the sloop or 
 the prize, and are to come round the Point with the tide ? " 
 
 " And then they may be drowned," said the lady. 
 
 " Verily," said Sampson, " I thought Mr. Kennedy had re- 
 turned an hour since. — Of a surety I deemed I heard his horse's 
 feet." 
 
 " That," said John, with a broad grin, " was Grizzel chasing the 
 humble-cow* out of the close." 
 
 Sampson coloured up to the eyes — not at the implied taunt, 
 which he would never have discovered, or resented if he had, but' 
 at some idea which crossed his own mind. " I have been in an 
 error," he said ; " of a surety I should have tarried for the babe." 
 So saying, he snatched his bone-headed cane and hat, and hurried 
 away towards Warroch-wood, faster than he was ever known to 
 walk before, or after. 
 
 The Laird lingered some time, debating the point with the lady. 
 At length, he saw the sloop of war again make her appearance ; 
 but, without approaching the shore, she stood away to the west- 
 ward with all her sails set, and was soon out of sight. The lady's 
 state of timorous and fretful apprehension was so habitual, that 
 her fears went for nothing with her lord and master ; but an ap- 
 pearance of disturbance and anxiety among the servants now 
 excited his alarm, especially when he was called out of the room, 
 and told in private that Mr. Kennedy's horse had come to the 
 stable door alone, with the saddle turned round below its belly, 
 and the reins of the bridle broken ; and that a farmer had informed 
 them in passing, that there was a smuggling lugger burning like a 
 furnace on the other side of the Point of Warroch, and that, 
 though he had come through the wood, he had seen or heard 
 nothing of Kennedy or the young Laird, " only there was 
 Dominie Sampson, gaun rampauging about, like mad, seeking for 
 hem." 
 
 All was now bustle at Ellangowan. The Laird and his servants, 
 male and female, hastened to the wood of Warroch. The tenants 
 
 E 3 
 
68 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 and cottagers in the neighbourhood lent their assistance, partly out 
 of zeal, partly from curiosity. Boats were manned to search the 
 sea-shore, which, on the other side of the Point, rose into high and 
 indented rocks. A vague suspicion was entertained, though too 
 horrible to be expressed, that the child might have fallen from one 
 of these cliffs. 
 
 The evening had begun to close when the parties entered the 
 wood, and dispersed different ways in quest of the boy and his 
 companion. The darkening of the atmosphere, and the hoarse 
 sighs of the November wind through the naked trees, the rustling 
 of the withered leaves which strewed the glades, the repeated 
 halloos of the different parties, which often drew them together in 
 expectation of meeting the objects of their search, gave a cast of 
 dismal sublimity to the scene. 
 
 At length, after a minute and fruitless investigation through the 
 wood, the searchers began to draw together into one body, and to 
 compare notes. The agony of the father grew beyond conceal- 
 ment, yet it scarcely equalled the anguish of the tutor. " Would 
 to God I had died for him ! " the affectionate creature repeated, in 
 notes of the deepest distress. Those who were less interested, 
 rushed into a tumultuary discussion of chances and possibilities. 
 Each gave his opinion, and each was alternately swayed by that of 
 the others. Some thought the objects of their search had gone 
 aboard the sloop ; some, that they had gone to a village at three 
 miles' distance ; some whispered they might have been on board 
 the lugger, a few planks and beams of which the tide now drifted 
 ashore. 
 
 At this instant a shout was heard from the beach, so loud, so 
 shrill, so piercing, so different from every sound which the woods 
 that day had rung to, that nobody hesitated a moment to believe 
 that it conveyed tidings, and tidings of dreadful import. All 
 hurried to the place, and, venturing without scruple upon paths 
 which at another time they would have shuddered to look at, de- 
 scended towards a cleft of the rock, where one boat's crew wa,s already 
 landed. " Here, sirs !— here !— this way, for God's sake !— this 
 way ! this way ! " was the reiterated cry. Ellangowan broke 
 through the throng which had already assembled at the fatal spot, 
 and beheld the object of their terror. It was the dead body of 
 Kennedy. At first sight he seemed to have perished by a fall from 
 the rocks, which rose above the spot on which he lay, in a perpen- 
 dicular precipice of a hundred feet above the beach. The corpse 
 was lying half in, half out of the water ; the advancing tide, 
 raising the arm and stirring the clothes, had given it at some 
 distance the appearance of motion, so that those who first disco- 
 
GUY MANNERING, 69 
 
 vered the body thought that life remained. But every spark had 
 been long extinguished. 
 
 " My bairn ! my bairn ! " cried the distracted father, " where can 
 he be ? " — A dozen mouths were opened to communicate hopes 
 
 which no one felt. Some one at length mentioned the gipsies ! 
 
 In a moment Ellangowan had reascended the cliffs, flung himself 
 upon the first horse he met, and rode furiously to the huts at Dern- 
 cleugh. All was there dark and desolate ; and, as he dismounted 
 to make more minute search, he stumbled over fragments of furni- 
 ture which had been thrown out of the cottages, and the broken 
 wood and thatch which had been pulled down by his orders. At that 
 moment the prophecy, or anathema, of Meg Merrilies fell heavy 
 on his mind. "You have stripped the thatch from seven cottages, 
 — see that the roof-tree of your own house stand the surer ! " 
 
 " Restore," he cried, " restore my bairn ! bring me back my son, 
 and all shall be forgot and forgiven ! " As he uttered these words 
 in a sort of frenzy, his eye caught a glimmering of light in one of 
 the dismantled cottages — it was that in which Meg Merrilies 
 formerly resided. The light, which seemed to proceed from fire, 
 glimmered not only through the window, but also through the 
 rafters of the hut where the roofing had been torn off. 
 
 He flew to the place ; the entrance was bolted : despair gave the 
 miserable father the strength of ten men ; he rushed against the 
 door with such violence, that it gave way before the momentum of 
 his weight and force. The cottage was empty, but bore marks of 
 recent habitation : — there was fire on the hearth, a kettle, and 
 some preparation for food. As he eagerly gazed around for some- 
 thing that might confirm his hope that his child yet lived, 
 although in the power of those strange people, a man entered 
 the hut. 
 
 It was his old gardener. "O sir !" said the old man, " such a 
 night as this I trusted never to live to see ! — ye maun come to the 
 Place directly ! " 
 
 " Is my boy found ? is he alive? have ye found Harry Bertram? 
 Andrew, have ye found Harry Bertram ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; but " 
 
 " Then he is kidnapped ! I am sure of it, Andrew, as sure as 
 that I tread upon earth ! She has stolen him— and I will never 
 stir from this place till I have tidings of my bairn ! " 
 
 " O, but ye maun come hame, sir ! ye maun come hame ! — We 
 have sent for the Sheriff, and we'll set a watch here a' night, in 
 
 case the gipsies return ; but you — ye maun come hame, sir, for 
 
 my lady's in the dead-thraw " — (death-agony). 
 
 Bertram turned a stupified and unmeaning eye on the messenger 
 
70 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 who uttered this calamitous news; and, repeating the words, "io 
 the dead-thraw ! " as if he could not comprehend their meaning 
 suffered the old man to drag him towards his horse. During the 
 ride home, he only said, " Wife and bairn, baith— mother and son, 
 baith — Sair, sair, to abide ! " 
 
 It is needless to dwell upon the new scene of agony which 
 awaited him. The news of Kennedy's fate had been eagerly and 
 incautiously communicated at Ellangowan, with the gratuitous 
 addition, that, doubtless, " he had drawn the young Laird over the 
 craig with him, though the tide had swept away the child's 
 body — he was light, puir thing, and would flee farther into the 
 surf." 
 
 Mrs. Bertram heard the tidings ; she was far advanced in her 
 pregnancy ; she fell into the pains of premature labour, and, ere 
 Ellangowan had recovered his agitated faculties, so as to compre- 
 hend the full distress of his situation, he was the father of a female 
 infant, and a widower. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 But see, his face is black, and full of blood ; 
 
 His eye-balls farther out than when he lived, 
 
 Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; 
 
 His hair upreaiM, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling, 
 
 His hands abroad display'd, as one that gasp'd 
 
 And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued. 
 
 Henry IV. Part First. 
 
 THE Sheriff-depute of the county arrived at Ellangowan next 
 morning by daybreak. To this provincial magistrate the law of 
 Scotland assigns judicial powers of considerable extent, and the 
 task of inquiring into all crimes committed within his jurisdiction, 
 the apprehension and commitment of suspected persons, and- so 
 forth.* 
 
 The gentleman who held the office in the shire of at the 
 
 time of this catastrophe, was well born and well educated ; and, 
 though somewhat pedantic and professional in his habits, he en- 
 joyed general respect as an active and intelligent magistrate. 
 His first employment was to examine all witnesses whose evidence 
 could throw light upon this mysterious event, and make up the 
 written report, prods verbal, or precognition, as it is technically 
 called, which the practice of Scotland has substituted for a 
 coroner's inquest. Under the Sheriff's minute and skilful inquiry, 
 many circumstances appeared which seemed incompatible with 
 
GUY MANNERING. 7* 
 
 the original opinion that Kennedy had accidentally fallen from the 
 cliffs. We shall briefly detail some of these. 
 
 The body had been deposited in a neighbouring fisher-hut, but 
 without altering the condition in which it was found. This was the 
 first object of the Sheriff's examination. Though fearfully crushed 
 and mangled by the fall from such a height, the corpse was found 
 to exhibit a deep cut in the head, which, in the opinion of a skilful 
 surgeon, must have been inflicted by a broadsword, or cutlass. 
 The experience of this gentleman discovered other suspicious indi- 
 cations. The face was much blackened, the eyes distorted, and 
 the veins of the neck swelled. A coloured handkerchief, which the 
 unfortunate man had worn round his neck, did not present the 
 usual appearance, but was much loosened, and the knot displaced 
 and dragged extremely tight : the folds were also compressed, as if 
 it had been used as a means of grappling the deceased, and 
 dragging him perhaps to the precipice. 
 
 On the other hand, poor Kennedy's purse was found untouched ; 
 and, what seemed yet more extraordinary, the pistols which he 
 usually carried when about to encounter any hazardous adventure, 
 were found in his pockets loaded. This appeared particularly 
 strange, for he was known and dreaded by the contraband traders 
 as a man equally fearless and dexterous in the use of his weapons, 
 of which he had given many signal proofs. The Sheriff inquired, 
 whether Kennedy was not in the practice of carrying any other 
 arms ? Most of Mr. Bertram's servants recollected that he gene- ' 
 rally had a couteau de chasse, or short hanger, but none such was 
 found upon the dead body ; nor could those who had seen him on 
 the morning of the fatal day, take it upon them to assert whether 
 he then carried that weapon or not. 
 
 The corpse afforded no other indicia respecting the fate of Ken- 
 nedy ; for, though the clothes were much displaced, and the limbs 
 dreadfully fractured, the one seemed the probable, the other the 
 certain, consequences of such a fall. The hands of the deceased 
 were clenched fast, and full of turf and earth ; but this also seemed 
 equivocal. 
 
 The magistrate then proceeded to the place where the corpse was 
 first discovered, and made those who had found it give, upon the 
 spot, a particular and detailed account of the manner in which it 
 was lying. A large fragment of the rock appeared to have accom- 
 panied, or followed, the fall of the victim from the cliff above. It 
 was of so solid and compact a substance, that it had fallen, without 
 any great diminution by splintering, so that the Sheriff was enabled, 
 first to estimate the weight by measurement, and then to calculate, 
 from the appearance of the fragment, what portion of it had been 
 
72 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 bedded into the cliff from which it had descended. This was easily 
 detected, by the raw appearance of the stone where it had not been 
 exposed to the atmosphere. They then ascended the cliff, and sur- 
 veyed the place from whence the stony fragment had fallen. It 
 seemed plain, from the appearance of the bed, that the mere weight 
 of one man standing upon the projecting part of the fragment, sup- 
 posing it in its original situation, could not have destroyed its 
 balance, and precipitated it, with himself, from the cliff. At the 
 same time, it appeared to have lain so loose, that the use of a lever, 
 or the combined strength of three or four men, might easily have 
 hurled it from its position. The short turf about the brink of the 
 precipice was much trampled, as if stamped by the heels of men in 
 a mortal struggle, or in the act of some violent exertion. Traces of 
 the same kind, less visibly marked, guided the sagacious investi- 
 gator to the verge of the copsewood, which in that place crept high 
 up the bank towards the top of the precipice. 
 
 With patience and perseverance, they traced these marks into 
 the thickest part of the copse, a route which no person would have 
 voluntarily adopted, unless for the purpose of concealment. Here 
 they found plain vestiges of violence and struggling, from space to 
 space. Small boughs were torn down, as ifgrasp'edby some resist- 
 ing wretch who was dragged forcibly along ; the ground, where in 
 the least degree soft or marshy, showed the print of many feet ; 
 there were vestiges also, which might be those of human blood. 
 At any rate, it was certain that several persons must have forced 
 their passage among the oaks, hazels, and underwood, with which 
 they were mingled ; and in some places appeared traces, as if a 
 sack full of grain, a dead body, or something of that heavy and 
 solid description, had been dragged along the ground. In one 
 part of the thicket there was a small swamp, the clay of which was 
 whitish, being probably mixed with marl. The back of Kennedy's 
 coat appeared besmeared with stains of the same colour. 
 
 At length, about a quarter of a mile from the brink of the fatal 
 precipice, the traces conducted them to a small open space of 
 ground, very much trampled, and plainly stained with blood, al- 
 though withered leaves had been strewed upon the spot, and other 
 means hastily taken to efface the marks, which seemed obviously to 
 have been derived from a desperate affray. On one side of this 
 patch of open ground was found the sufferer's naked hanger, which 
 seemed to have been thrown into the thicket ; on the other, the 
 belt and sheath, which appeared to have been hidden with more 
 leisurely care and precaution. 
 
 The magistrate caused the foot-prints which marked this spot to 
 be carefully measured and examined. Some corresponded to the 
 
GUY MANNER ING. 73 
 
 foot of the unhappy victim ; some were larger, some less ; indi- 
 cating that at least four or five men had been busy around him. 
 Above all, here, and here only, were observed the vestiges of a 
 child's foot ; and as it could be seen nowhere else, and the hard 
 horse-track which traversed the wood of Warroch was contiguous 
 to the spot, it was natural to think that the boy might have escaped 
 in that direction during the confusion. But as he was never heard 
 of, the Sheriff, who made a careful entry of all these memoranda, 
 did not suppress his opinion that the deceased had met with foul 
 play, and that the murderers, whoever they were, had possessed 
 themselves of the person of the child Harry Bertram. 
 
 Every exertion was now made to discover the criminals. Sus- 
 picion hesitated between the smugglers and the gipsies. The 
 fate of Dirk Hatteraick's vessel was certain. Two men from the 
 opposite side of Warroch Bay (so the inlet on the southern side of 
 the Point of Warroch is called) had seen, though at a great distance, 
 the lugger drive eastward, after doubling the headland, and, as they 
 judged from her manoeuvres, in a disabled state. Shortly after, 
 they perceived that she grounded, smoked, and, finally, took fire. 
 She was, as one of them expressed himself, in a light lowe (bright 
 flame) when they observed a king's ship, with her colours up, heave 
 in sight from behind the cape. The guns of the burning vessel dis- 
 charged themselves as the fire reached them ; and they saw her, at 
 length, blow up with a great explosion. The sloop of war kept 
 aloof for her own safety ; and, after hovering till the other exploded, 
 stood away southward under a press of sail. The Sheriff anxiously 
 interrogated these men whether any boats had left the vessel. 
 They could not say — they had seen none — but they might have put 
 off in such a direction as placed the burning vessel, and the thick 
 smoke which floated landward from it, between their course and 
 the witnesses' observation. 
 
 That the ship destroyed was Dirk Hatteraick's, no one doubted. 
 His lugger was well known on the coast, and had been expected 
 just at this time. A letter from the commander of the king's sloop, 
 to whom the Sheriff made application, put the matter beyond 
 doubt ; he sent also an extract from his log-book of the transac- 
 tions of the day, which intimated their being on the outlook for a 
 smuggling lugger, Dirk Hatteraick master, upon the information 
 and requisition of Francis Kennedy, of his Majesty's excise service ; 
 and that Kennedy was to be upon the outlook on the shore, in case 
 Hatteraick, who was known to be a desperate fellow, and had been 
 repeatedly outlawed, should attempt to run his sloop aground. 
 About nine o'clock a. m. they discovered a sail, which answered the 
 description of Hatteraick's vessel, chased her, and after repeated 
 
74 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 signals to her to show colours and bring-to, fired upon her. The 
 chase then showed Hamburgh colours, and returned the fire ; and a 
 running fight was maintained for three hours, when, just as the 
 lugger was doubling the Point of Warroch, they observed that the 
 main-yard was shot in the slings, and that the vessel was disabled. 
 It was not in the power of the man-of-war's men for some time to 
 profit by this circumstance, owing to their having kept too much in 
 shore for doubling the headland. After two tacks, they accom- 
 plished this, and observed the chase on fire, and apparently de- 
 serted. The fire having reached some casks of spirits, which were 
 placed on the deck, with other combustibles, probably on purpose, 
 burnt with such fury, that no boats durst approach the vessel, es- 
 pecially as her shotted guns were discharging, one after another, by 
 the heat.. The captain had no doubt whatever that the crew had 
 set the vessel on fire, and escaped in their boats. After watching 
 the conflagration till the ship blew up, his Majesty's sloop, the 
 Shark, stood towards the Isle of Man, with the purpose of inter- 
 cepting the retreat of the smugglers, who, though they might con- 
 ceal themselves in the woods for a day or two, would probably take 
 the first opportunity of endeavouring to make for this asylum. But 
 they never saw more of them than is above narrated. 
 
 Such was the account given by William Pritchard, master and 
 commander of his Majesty's sloop of war Shark, who concluded by 
 regretting deeply that he had not had the happiness to fall in with the 
 scoundrels who had had the impudence to fire on his Majesty's flag, 
 and with an assurance, that, should he meet Mr. Dirk Hatteraick 
 in any future cruise, he would not fail to bring him into port under 
 his stern, to answer whatever might be alleged against him. 
 
 As, therefore, it seemed tolerably certain that the men on board 
 the lugger had escaped, the death of Kennedy, if he fell in with 
 them in the woods, when irritated by the loss of their vessel, and by 
 the share he had in it, was easily to be accounted for. And it was 
 not improbable, that to such brutal tempers, rendered desperate by 
 their own circumstances, even the murder of the child, against 
 whose father, as having become suddenly active in the prosecution 
 of smugglers, Hatteraick was known to have uttered deep threats, 
 would not appear a very heinous crime. 
 
 Against this hypothesis it was urged, that a crew of fifteen or 
 twenty men could not have lain hidden upon the coast when so 
 close a search took place immediately after the destruction of their 
 vessel ; or, at least, that if they had hid themselves in the woods, 
 their boats must have been seen on the beach ; — that in such pre- 
 carious circumstances, and when all retreat must have seemed 
 difficult, if not impossible, it was not to be thought that they would 
 
GUY MANNERING. 75 
 
 have all united to commit a useless murder, for the mere sake of 
 revenge. Those who held this opinion supposed, either that the 
 boats of the lugger had stood out to sea without being observed by 
 those who were intent upon gazing at the burning vessel, and so 
 gained safe distance before the sloop got round the headland ; or 
 else, that the boats being staved or destroyed by the fire of the 
 Shark during the chase, the crew had obstinately determined to 
 perish with the vessel. ■' What gave some countenance to this sup- 
 posed act of desperation was, that neither Dirk Hatteraick nor any 
 of his sailors, all well-known men in the fair-trade, were again seen 
 upon that coast, or heard of in the Isle of Man, where strict in- 
 quiry was made. On the other hand, only one dead body, appa- 
 rently that of a seaman killed by a cannon-shot, drifted ashore. 
 So all that could be done was to register the names, description, 
 and appearance of the individuals belonging to the ship's company, 
 and offer a reward for the apprehension of them, or any one of 
 them, extending also to any person, not the actual murderer, who 
 should give evidence tending to convict those who had murdered 
 Francis Kennedy. 
 
 Another opinion, which was also plausibly supported, went to 
 charge this horrid crime upon the late tenants of Derncleugh. They 
 were known to have resented highly the conduct of the Laird of 
 Ellangowan towards them, and to have used threatening expres- 
 sions, which every one supposed them capable of carrying into 
 effect. The kidnapping the child was a crime much more consistent 
 with their habits than with those of smugglers, and his temporary 
 guardian might have fallen in an attempt to protect him. Besides, 
 it was remembered that Kennedy had been an active agent, two or 
 three days before, in the forcible expulsion of these people from 
 Derncleugh, and that harsh and menacing language had been ex- 
 changed between him and some of the Egyptian patriarchs on that 
 memorable occasion. 
 
 The Sheriff received also the depositions of the unfortunate father 
 and his servant, concerning what had passed at their meeting the 
 caravan of gipsies as they left the estate of Ellangowan. The 
 speech of Meg Merrilies seemed particularly suspicious. There 
 was, as the magistrate observed in his law language, damnum 
 minatum — a damage, or evil turn, threatened, and malum secutum 
 — an evil of the very kind predicted, shortly afterwards following. 
 A young woman, who had been gathering nuts in Warroch wood 
 upon the fatal day, was also strongly of opinion, though she de- 
 clined to make positive oath, that she had seen Meg Merrilies, at 
 least a woman of her remarkable size and appearance, start suddenly 
 out of a thicket — she said she had called to her by name, but, as the 
 
76 GUY MANNERING, 
 
 figure turned from her, and made no answer, she was uncertain if 
 it were the gipsy, or her wraith, and was afraid to go nearer to one 
 who was always reckoned, in the vulgar phrase, no canny. This 
 vague story received some corroboration from the circumstance of a 
 fire being that evening found in the gipsy's deserted cottage. To 
 this fact Ellangowan and his gardener bore evidence. Yet it 
 seemed extravagant to suppose, that, had this woman been ac- 
 cessory to such a dreadful crime, she would have returned that very 
 evening on which it was committed, to the place, of all others, 
 where she was most likely to be sought after. 
 
 Meg Merrilies was, however, apprehended and examined. She 
 denied strongly having been either at Derncleugh or in the wood of 
 Warroch upon the day of Kennedy's death ; and several of her 
 tribe made oath in her behalf, that she had never quitted their 
 encampment, which was in a glen about ten miles distant from 
 - Ellangowan. Their oaths were indeed little to be trusted to ; but 
 what other evidence could be had in the circumstances ? There 
 was one remarkable fact, and only one, which arose from her exami- 
 nation. Her arm appeared to be slightly wounded by the cut of a 
 sharp weapon, and was tied up with a handkerchief of Harry Ber- 
 tram's. But the chief of the horde acknowledged he had " cor- 
 rected her " that day with his whinger — she herself, and others, 
 gave the same account of her hurt ; and, for the handkerchief, the 
 quantity of linen stolen from Ellangowan during the last months 
 of their residence on the estate, easily accounted for it, without 
 charging Meg with a more heinous crime. 
 
 It was observed upon her examination, that she treated the ques- 
 tions respecting the death of Kennedy, or " the gauger," as she 
 called him, with indifference ; but expressed great and emphatic 
 scorn and indignation at being supposed capable of injuring little 
 Harry Bertram. She was long confined in jail, under the hope 
 that something might yet be discovered to throw light upon this 
 dark and bloody transaction. Nothing, however, occurred ; and 
 Meg was at length liberated, but under sentence of banishment 
 from the county as a vagrant, common thief, and disorderly person. 
 No traces of the boy could ever be discovered ; and, at length, the 
 story, after making much noise, was gradually given up as alto- 
 gether inexplicable, and only perpetuated by the name of " The 
 Gauger's Loup," which was generally bestowed on the cliff from 
 which the unfortunate man had fallen, or been precipitated. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 77 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Enter Time, as Chorus. 
 
 I — that please some, try all ; both joy and terror 
 
 Of good and bad ; that make and unfold error — 
 
 Now take upon me, in the name of Time, 
 
 To use my wings. Impute it not a crime 
 
 To me, or my swift passage, that I slide 
 
 O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried 
 
 Of that wide gap. 
 
 Winter's Tale. 
 
 Our narration is now about to make a large stride, and omit a 
 space of nearly seventeen years ; during which nothing occurred 
 of any particular consequence with respect to the story we have 
 undertaken to tell. The gap is a wide one ; yet if the reader's 
 experience in life enables him to look back on so many years, the 
 space will scarce appear longer in his recollection than the time 
 consumed in turning these pages. 
 
 It was, then, in the month of November, about seventeen years 
 after the catastrophe related in the last chapter, that, during a cold 
 and stormy night, a social group had closed round the kitchen-fire 
 of the Gordon Arms at Kippletringan, a small but comfortable inn, 
 kept by Mrs. Mac-Candlish in that village. The conversation 
 which passed among them will save me the trouble of telling the 
 few events occurring during this chasm in our history, with which" it 
 is necessary that the reader should be acquainted. 
 
 Mrs. Mac-Candlish, throned in a comfortable easy chair lined 
 with black leather, was regaling herself, and a neighbouring gossip 
 or two, with a cup of genuine tea, and at the same time keeping a 
 sharp eye upon her domestics, as they went and came in prosecu- 
 tion of their various duties and commissions. The clerk and pre- 
 centor of the parish enjoyed at a little distance his Saturday night's 
 pipe, and aided its bland fumigation by an occasional sip of brandy 
 and water. Deacon Bearcliff, a man of great importance in the 
 village, combined the indulgence of both parties — he had his pipe 
 and his tea-cup, the latter being laced with a little spirits. One or 
 two clowns sat at some distance, drinking their twopenny ale. 
 
 " Are ye sure the parlour's ready for them, and the fire burning 
 clear, and the chimney no smoking?" said the hostess to a 
 chambermaid. 
 
 She was answered in the affirmative. — " Ane wadna be uncivil 
 to them, especially in their distress," said she, turning to the 
 Deacon. 
 
78 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 "Assuredly not, Mrs. Mac-Candlish ; assuredly not. I am sura 
 ony sma' thing they might want frae my shop, under seven, or 
 eight, or ten pounds, I would book them as readily for it as the first 
 in the country. — Do they come in the auld chaise?" 
 - " I dare say no," said the precentor ; " for Miss Bertram comes 
 on the white powny ilka day to the kirk — and a constant kirk- 
 keeper she is — and it's a pleasure to hear her singing the psalms 
 winsome young thing." 
 
 " Ay, and the young Laird of Hazlewood rides hame half the road 
 wi' her after sermon," said one of the gossips in company : " I 
 wonder how auld Hazlewood likes that." 
 
 " I kenna how he may like it now," answered another of the tea- 
 drinkers ; " but the day has been when Ellangowan wad hae liked 
 as little to see his daughter taking up with their son." 
 
 " Ay, has been" answered the first, with somewhat of emphasis. 
 
 " I am sure, neighbour Ovens," said the hostess, " the Hazle- 
 woods of Hazlewood, though they are a very gude auld family in 
 the county, never thought, till within these twa score o' years, of 
 evening themselves till the Ellangowans — Wow, woman, the Ber- 
 trams of Ellangowan are the auld Dingawaies lang syne — there is a 
 sang about ane o' them marrying a daughter of the King of Man ; 
 it begins, 
 
 Blythe Bertram's ta'en him ower the faem, 
 To wed a wife, and bring her hame 
 
 I daur say Mr. Skreigh can sing us the ballant." 
 
 " Gudewife," said Skreigh, gathering up his mouth, and sipping 
 his tiff of brandy punch with great solemnity, " our talents were 
 gien us to other use than to sing daft auld sangs sae near the 
 Sabbath day." 
 
 " Hout fie, Mr. Skreigh ; I'se warrant I hae heard you sing a 
 blythe sang on Saturday at e'en before now. — But as for the chaise, 
 Deacon, it hasna been out of the coach-house since Mrs. Bertram 
 died, that's sixteen or seventeen years sin syne — Jock Jabos is away 
 wi' a chaise of mine for them ; — I wonder he's no come back. It's 
 pit mirk — but there's no an ill turn on the road but twa, and the 
 brigg ower Warroch burn is safe eneugh, if he haud to the right 
 side. But then there's Heavieside-brae, that's just a murder for 
 post-cattle — but Jock kens the road brawly." 
 
 A loud rapping was heard at the door. 
 
 " That's no them. I didna hear the wheels. — Grizzel, ye limmer, 
 gang to the door." 
 
 " It's a single gentleman," whined out Grizzel ; " maun I> take him 
 into the parlour ? " 
 
 " Foul be in your feet, then ; it'll be some English rider. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 79 
 
 Coming without a servant at this time o' night !— Has the ostler 
 ta'en the horse ?— Ye may light a spunk o' fire in the red room." 
 
 " I wish, ma'am," said the traveller, entering the kitchen, 
 " you would give me leave to warm myself here, for the night is 
 very cold." 
 
 His appearance, voice, and manner, produced an instantaneous 
 effect in his favour. He was a handsome, tall, thin figure, dressed 
 in black, as appeared when he laid aside his riding-coat ; his age 
 might be between forty and fifty ; his cast of features grave and 
 interesting, and his air somewhat military. Every point of his 
 appearance and address bespoke the gentleman. Long habit had 
 given Mrs. Mac-Candlish an acute tact in ascertaining the quality 
 of her visitors, and proportioning her reception accordingly : — 
 To every guest the appropriate speech was made, 
 And every duty with distinction paid ; 
 
 Respectful, easy, pleasant, or polite 
 
 " Your honour's servant !— Mister Smith, good-night." 
 
 On the present occasion, she was low in her curtsey, and profuse 
 in her apologies. The stranger begged his horse might be attended 
 to — she went out herself to school the ostler. 
 
 " There was never a prettier bit o' horse-flesh in the stable o' the 
 Gordon Arms," said the man ; which information increased the 
 landlady's respect for the rider. Finding, on her return, that the 
 stranger declined to go into another apartment (which indeed, she 
 allowed, would be but cold and smoky till the fire bleezed up), she 
 installed her guest hospitably by the fire-side, and offered what 
 refreshment her house afforded. 
 
 " A cup of your tea, ma'am, if you will favour me." 
 
 Mrs. Mac-Candlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot with 
 hyson, and proceeded in her duties with her best grace. " We 
 have a very nice parlour, sir, and everything very agreeable for 
 gentlefolks ; but it's bespoke the-night for a gentleman and his 
 daughter, they are going to leave this part of the country — ane of 
 my chaises is gane for them, and will be back forthwith. They're 
 no sae weel in the warld as they have been ; but we're a' subject to 
 ups and downs in this life, as your honour must needs ken — but is 
 not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to your honour ? " 
 
 " By no means, ma'am ; I am an old campaigner, and perfectly 
 used to it. — Will you permit me to make some inquiries about a 
 family in this neighbourhood ? " 
 
 The sound of wheels was now heard, and the landlady hurried 
 to the door to receive her expected guests ; but returned in an 
 instant, followed by the postilion—" No, they canna come at no 
 rate, the Laird's sae ill." - - 
 
80 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " But God help them ! " said the landlady, " the morn's the 
 term — the very last day they can bide in the house — a'thing's to be 
 roupit." 
 
 " Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye — Mr. Bertra 
 canna be moved." 
 
 " What Mr. Bertram ? " said the stranger ; " not Mr. Bertram of 
 Ellangowan, I hope ? " 
 
 " Just e'en that same, sir ; and if ye be a friend o' his, ye have 
 come at a time when he's sair bested." 
 
 " I have been abroad for many years ; — is his health so much 
 deranged ? " 
 
 " Ay, and his affairs an' a'," said the Deacon; "the creditors 
 have entered into possession o' the estate, and it's for sale ; and 
 some that made the maist by him — I name nae names, but Mrs. 
 Mac-Candlish kens wha I mean " — (the landlady shook her head 
 significantly), " they're sairest on him e'en now. I have a sma' 
 matter due mysell, but I would rather have lost it than gane to turn 
 the auld man out of his house, and him just dying." 
 
 " Ay, but," said the parish-clerk, " Factor Glossin wants to get 
 rid of the auld Laird, and drive on the sale, for fear the heir-male 
 should cast up upon them ; for I have heard say, if there was an 
 heir-male, they couldna sell the estate for auld Ellangowan's 
 debt." 
 
 " He had a son born a good many years ago," said the stranger ; 
 " he is dead, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Nae man can say for that," answered the clerk, mysteriously. 
 
 " Dead ! " said the Deacon, " I'se warrant him dead lang syne ; 
 he hasna been heard o' these twenty years or thereby." 
 
 " I wot weel it's no twenty years," said the landlady ; " it's no 
 abune seventeen at the outside in this very month ; it made an 
 unco noise ower a' this country — the bairn disappeared the very 
 day that Supervisor Kennedy cam by his end. — If ye kenn'd this 
 country lang syne, your honour wad maybe ken Frank Kennedy 
 the Supervisor. He was a heartsome pleasant man, and company 
 for the best gentlemen in the county, and muckle mirth he's made 
 in this house. I was young then, sir, and newly married to Bailie 
 Mac-Candlish, that's dead and gone — (a sigh) — and muckle fun I've 
 had wi' the Supervisor. He was a daft dog — O, an he could hae 
 hauden aff the smugglers a bit ! but he was aye venturesome. — And 
 so ye see, sir, there was a king's sloop down in Wigton bay, and 
 Frank Kennedy, he behoved to have her up to chase Dirk Hat- 
 teraick's lugger — ye'll mind Dirk Hatteraick, Deacon ? I dare say 
 ye may have dealt wi' him — (the Deacon gave a sort of acquiescent 
 nod and humph). He was a daring chield, and he fought his ship 
 
GUY MANNERING. bi 
 
 till she blew up like peelings of ingans ; and Frank Kennedy he 
 had been the first man to board, and he was flung like a quarter of 
 a mile off, and fell into the water below the rock at Warroch Point, 
 that they ca' the Gauge^s Loup to this day." 
 
 " And Mr. Bertram's child," said the stranger, " what is all this 
 to him ? " 
 
 " Ou, sir, the bairn aye held an unca wark wi' the Supervisor ; 
 and it was generally thought he went on board the vessel alang wi' 
 him, as bairns are aye forward to be in mischief." 
 
 "No, no," said the Deacon, "ye're clean out there, Luckie — for 
 the young Laird was stown away by a randy gipsy woman they ca'd 
 Meg Merrilies — I mind her looks weel, — in revenge for Ellangowan 
 having gai^d her be drumm'd through Kippletringan for stealing a 
 silver spoon." 
 
 " If ye'll forgie me, Deacon," said the precentor, " ye're e'en as 
 far wrang as the gudewife." 
 
 " And what is your edition of the story, sir ? " said the stranger, 
 turning to him with interest. 
 
 " That's maybe no sae canny to tell," said the precentor, with 
 solemnity. 
 
 Upon being urged, however, to speak out, he preluded with two 
 or three large puffs of tobacco-smoke, and out of the cloudy sanc- 
 tuary which these whiffs formed around him, delivered the following 
 legend, having cleared his voice with one or two hems, and imi- 
 tating, as near as he could, the eloquence which weekly thundered 
 over his head from the pulpit. 
 
 " What we are now to deliver, my brethren, — hem — hem, — I 
 mean, my good friends, — was not done in a correr, and may serve 
 as an answer to witch-advocates, atheists, and misbelievers of all 
 kinds. Ye must know that the worshipful Laird of Ellangowan 
 was not so preceese as he might have been in clearing his land of 
 witches (concerning whom it is said, ' Thou shalt not suffer a witch 
 to live/) nor of those who had familiar spirits, and consulted with 
 divination, and sorcery, and lots, which is the fashion with the 
 Egyptians, as they ca' themsells, and other unhappy bodies, in this 
 our country. And the Laird was three years married without 
 having a family — and he was sae left to himsell, that it was 
 thought he held ower muckle troking and communing wi' that Meg 
 Merrilies, wha was the maist notorious witch in a' Galloway ani 
 Dumfries-shire baith." 
 
 " Aweel I wot there's something in that," said Mrs. Mac-Cand- 
 lish ; " I've kenned him order her twa glasses o' brandy in this 
 very house." 
 
 "Aweel, gudewife, then the less I lee. — Sae the lady was wi' bairn 
 
 F 
 
82 UUY MANNERING. 
 
 at last, "and in the night when she should have been delivered, there 
 comes to the door of the ha' house — the Place of Ellangowan aa 
 they ca'd — an ancient man, strangely habited, and asked for quar- 
 ters. His head, and his legs, and his arms were bare, although it 
 was winter time o' the year, and he had a grey beard three quarters 
 lang. Weel, he was admitted ; and when the lady was delivered, 
 he craved to know the very moment of the hour of the birth, and 
 he went out and consulted the stars. And when he came back, he 
 tell'd the Laird that the Evil One wad have power over the knave- 
 bairn that was that night born, and he charged him that the babe 
 should be bred up in the ways of piety, and that he should aye hae 
 a godly minister at his elbow, to pray wi' the bairn and for him. 
 And the aged man vanished away, and no man of this country ever 
 saw mair o' him." 
 
 " Now, that will not pass," said the postilion, who, at a respectful 
 distance, was listening to the conversation, " begging Mr. Skreigh's 
 and the company's pardon, — 'there was no sae mony hairs on the 
 warlock's face as there's on Letter-Gae's* ain at this moment ; and 
 he had as good a pair o' boots as a man need streik on his legs, 
 and gloves too ; — and 1 should understand boots by this time, I 
 think." 
 
 " Whisht, Jock," said the landlady. 
 
 " Aye ? and what do ye ken o' the matter, friend Jabos ? " said 
 the precentor, contemptuously. 
 
 "No muckle, to be sure, Mr. Skreigh— only that I lived within a 
 penny-stane cast o' the head o' the avenue at Ellangowan, when a 
 man cam jingling to our door that night the young Laird was born, 
 and my mother sent me, that was a hafflin callant, to show the 
 stranger the gate to the Place, which, if he had been sic a warlock, 
 he might hae kenn'd himsell, ane wad think — and he was a young, 
 weel-faured, weel-dressed lad, like an Englishman. And I tell ye 
 he had as gude a hat, and boots, and gloves, as ony gentleman need 
 to have. To be sure, he did gie an awsome glance up at the auld 
 castle— and there was some spae-wark gaed on— I aye heard that ; 
 but as for his vanishing, I held the stirrup mysell when he gaed 
 away, and he gied me a round half-crown — he was riding on a haick 
 they ca'd Souple Sam— it belanged to the George at Dumfries— it 
 was a blood-bay beast, very ill o' the spavin— I hae seen the beast 
 baith before and since." 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, Jock," answered Mr. Skreigh, with a tone of mild 
 solemnity, " our accounts differ in no material particulars ; but I 
 had no knowledge that ye had seen the man.— So ye see, my 
 friends, that this soothsayer having prognosticated evil to the boy, 
 his father engaged a godly minister, to be with him morn and nieht." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 83 
 
 " Ay, that was him they ca'd Dominie Sampson,-" said the pos- 
 tilion." 
 
 " He's but a dumb dog that," observed the Deacon ; " I have 
 heard that he never could preach five words of a sermon endlang, 
 for as lang as he has been licensed." 
 
 " Weel, but," said the precentor, waving his hand, as if eager to 
 retrieve the command of the discourse, " he waited on the young 
 Laird by night and day. Now it chanced, when the bairn was 
 near five years auld, that the Laird had a sight of his errors, and 
 determined to put these Egyptians aff his ground ; and he caused 
 them to remove ; and that Frank Kennedy, that was a rough 
 swearing fellow, he was sent to turn them off. And he cursed and 
 damned at them, and they swure at him ; and that Meg Merrilies, 
 that was the maist powerfu' with the Enemy of Mankind, she as 
 gude as said she would have him, body and soul, before three days 
 were ower his head. And I have it from a sure hand, and that's 
 ane wha saw it, and that's John Wilson that was the Laird's groom, 
 that Meg appeared to the Laird as he was riding hame from Single- 
 side, over Gibbie's-knowe, and threatened him wi' what she wad do 
 to his family ; but whether it was Meg, or something waur in her 
 likeness, for it seemed bigger than ony mortal creature, John could 
 not say." 
 
 "Aweel," said the postilion, "it might be sae — I cannot say 
 against it, for I was not in the country at the time ; but John 
 Wilson was a blustering kind of chield, without the heart of a 
 sprug." 
 
 "And what was the end of all this?" said the stranger, with 
 some impatience. 
 
 " Ou, the event and upshot of it was, sir," said the precentor, 
 " that while they were all looking on, beholding a king's ship chase 
 a smuggler, this Kennedy suddenly brak awa frae them without 
 ony reason that could be descried-— ropes nor tows wad not hae 
 held him — and made for the wood of Warroch as fast as his beast 
 could carry him ; and by the way he met the young Laird and his 
 governor, and he snatched up the bairn, and swure, if he was be- 
 witched, the bairn should have the same luck as him ; and the 
 minister followed as fast as he could, and almaist as fast as them, 
 for he was wonderfully swift of foot — and he saw Meg the witch, or 
 her master in her similitude, rise suddenly out of the ground, and 
 claught the bairn suddenly out of the gauge^s arms — and then he 
 rampauged and drew his sword — for ye ken a fie man and a cusser 
 fears na the deil." 
 
 " I believe that's very true," said the postilion. 
 
 " So, sir, she grippit him, and clodded him like a stane from the 
 
 F 2 
 
84 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 sling ower the craigs of Warroch-head, where he was found that 
 evening— but what became of the babe, frankly I cannot say. But 
 he that was minister here then, that's now in a better place, had an 
 opinion that the bairn was only conveyed to Fairy-land for a 
 season." 
 
 The stranger had smiled slightly at some parts of this recital, but 
 ere he could answer, the clatter of a horse's hoofs was heard, and 
 a smart servant, handsomely dressed, with a cockade in his hat, 
 bustled into the kitchen, with " Make a little room, good people ;" 
 when, observing the stranger, he descended at once into the modest 
 and civil domestic, his hat sunk down by his side, and he put a 
 letter into his master's hands. " The family at Ellangowan, sir, 
 are in great distress, and unable to receive any visits." 
 
 " I know it," replied his master.— " And now, madam, if you will 
 have the goodness to allow me to occupy the parlour you mentioned, 
 as you are disappointed of your guests " 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, and hastened to light 
 the way with all the imperative bustle which an active landlady 
 loves to display on such occasions. 
 
 " Young man," said the Deacon to the servant, filling a glass, 
 " ye'll no be the waur o' this, after your ride." 
 
 " Not a feather, sir, — thank ye — your very good health, sir." 
 
 " And wha may your master be, friend ? " 
 
 " What, the gentleman that was here ?— that's the famous Colonel 
 Mannering, sir, from the East Indies." 
 
 " What, him we read of in the newspapers ? " 
 
 "Ay, ay, just the same. It was he relieved Cuddieburn, and 
 defended Chingalore, and defeated the great Mahratta chief, Ram 
 Jolli Bundleman — I was with him in most of his campaigns." 
 
 " Lord safe us," said the landlady, " I must go see what he would 
 have for supper — that I should set him down here i " 
 
 " O, he likes that all the better, mother ; you never saw a plainer 
 creature in your life than our old Colonel ; and yet he has a spice 
 of the devil in him too." 
 
 The rest of the evening's conversation below stairs tending little 
 to edification, we shall, with the reader's leave, step up to the 
 parlour. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 8* 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 Reputation ? that's man's idol 
 
 Set up against God, the Maker of all laws, 
 Who hath commanded us we should not kill. 
 And yet we say we must, for Reputation ! 
 What honest man can either fear his own, 
 Or else will hurt another's reputation ? 
 Fear to do base unworthy things is valour ; 
 If they be done to us, to suffer them 
 Is valour too. Ben Jonson. 
 
 The Colonel was walking pensively up and down the parlour, 
 when the officious landlady re-entered to take his commands. 
 Having given them in the manner he thought would be most ac- 
 ceptable " for the good of the house," he begged to detain her a 
 moment. 
 
 " I think," he said, " madam, if I understood the good people 
 right, Mr. Bertram lost his son in his fifth year ? " 
 
 " O ay, sir, there's nae doubt o' that, though there are mony idle 
 clashes about the way and manner ; for it's an auld story now, and 
 everybody tells it, as we were doing, their ain way by the ingleside. 
 But lost the bairn was in his fifth year, as your honour says, 
 Colonel ; and the news being rashly tell'd to the leddy, then great 
 with child, cost her her life that samyn night — and the Laird never 
 throve after that day, but was just careless of every thing — though, 
 when his daughter Miss Lucy grew up, she tried to keep order 
 within doors — but what could she do, poor thing ? — so now they're 
 out of house and hauld." 
 
 " Can you recollect, madam, about what time of the year the 
 child was lost ? " The landlady, after a pause, and some recollec- 
 tion, answered, " she was positive it was about this season ; " and 
 added some local recollections that fixed the date in her memory, 
 as occurring about the beginning of November, 17 — . 
 
 The stranger took two or three turns round the room in silence, 
 but signed to Mrs. Mac-Candlish not to leave it. 
 
 " Did I rightly apprehend," he said, " that the estate of Ellan- 
 gowan is in the market ? " 
 
 " In the market? — it will be sell'd the morn to the highest bidder — 
 that's no the morn, Lord help me ! which is the Sabbath, but on 
 Monday, the first free day ; and the furniture and stocking is to be 
 roupit at the same time on the ground. It's the opinion of the haill 
 country, that the sale has been shamefully forced on at this time, 
 when there's sae little money stirring in Scotland wi' this weary 
 American war, that somebody may get the land a bargain — Deil be 
 
86 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 in them, that I should say sae ! "—the good lady's wrath rising at 
 the supposed injustice. 
 
 " And where will the sale take place ? " 
 
 " On the premises, as the advertisement says — that's at the house 
 of Ellangowan, your honour, as I understand it." 
 
 " And who exhibits the title-deeds, rent-roll, and plan ? " 
 
 " A very decent man, sir ; the sheriff-substitute of the county, 
 who has authority from the Court of Session. He's in the town 
 just now, if your honour would like to see him ; and he can tell you 
 mair about the loss of the bairn than onybody, for the sheriff-depute 
 (that's his principal, like) took much pains to come at the truth o' 
 that matter, as I have heard." 
 
 " And this gentleman's name is " 
 
 " Mac-Morlan, sir, — he's a man o' character, and weel spoken o'." 
 
 " Send my compliments — Colonel Mannering's compliments to 
 him, and I would be glad he would do me the pleasure of supping 
 with me, and bring these papers with him — and I beg, good madam, 
 you will say nothing of this to any one else." 
 
 " Me, sir ? ne'er a word shall I say — I wish your honour (a 
 curtsey), or ony honourable gentleman that's fought for his country 
 (another curtsey) had the land, since the auld family maun quit (a 
 sigh), rather than that wily scoundrel, Glossin, that's risen on the 
 ruin of the best friend he ever had — and now I think on't, I'll slip 
 on my hood and pattens, and gang to Mr. Mac-Morlan mysell — 
 he's at hame e'en now — it's hardly a step." 
 
 "Do so, my good landlady, and many thanks — and bid my 
 servant step here with my portfolio in the meantime." 
 
 In a minute or two, Colonel Mannering was quietly seated with 
 his writing materials before him. We have the privilege of looking 
 over his shoulder as he writes, and we willingly communicate its 
 substance to our readers. The letter was addressed to Arthvr 
 Mervyn, Esq., of Mervyn-hall, Llanbraithwaite, Westmoreland. It 
 contained some account of the writer's previous journey since parting 
 with him, and then proceeded as follows : — 
 
 " And now, why will you still upbraid me with my melancholy, 
 Mervyn ? — Do you think, after the lapse of twenty-five years, battles, 
 wounds, imprisonment, misfortunes of every description, I can be 
 still the same lively, unbroken Guy Mannering, who climbed Skid- 
 daw with you, or shot grouse upon Crossfell ? That you, who have 
 remained in the bosom of domestic happiness, experience little 
 change, that your step is as light, and your fancy as full of sun- 
 shine, is a blessed effect of health and temperament, co-operating 
 with content, and a smooth current down the course of life. But 
 my career has been one of difficulties, and doubts, and errors. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 87 
 
 From my infancy I have been the sport of accident, and though the 
 wind has often borne me into harbour, it has seldom been into that 
 which the pilot destined. Let me recall to you— but the task must 
 be brief— the odd and wayward fates of my youth, and the mis- 
 fortunes of my manhood. 
 
 • " The former, you will say, had nothing very appalling. - All was 
 not for the best ; but all was tolerable. My father, the eldest son 
 of an ancient but reduced family, left me with little, save the name 
 of the head of the house, to the protection of his more fortunate 
 brothers. They were so fond of me that they almost quarrelled 
 about me. My uncle, the bishop, would have had me in orders, 
 and offered me a living — my uncle, the merchant, would have put 
 me into a counting-house, and proposed to give me a share in the 
 thriving concern of Mannering and Marshall, in Lombard Street 
 — So, between these two stools, or rather these two soft, easy, well- 
 stuffed chairs of divinity and commerce, my unfortunate person 
 slipped down, and pitched upon a dragoon saddle. Again, the 
 bishop wished me to marry the niece and heiress of the Dean of 
 Lincoln ; and my uncle, the alderman, proposed to me the only 
 daughter of old Sloethorn, the great wine-merchant, rich enough 
 to play at span-counter with moidores, and make thread-papers of 
 bank-notes — and somehpw I slipped my neck out of both nooses, 
 and married — poor — poor Sophia Wellwood. 
 
 " You will say, my military career in India, when I followed my 
 regiment there, should have given me some satisfaction ; and so it 
 assuredly has. You will remind me also, that if I disappointed the 
 hopes of my guardians, I did not incur their displeasure — that the 
 bishop, at his death, bequeathed me his blessing, his manuscript 
 sermons, and a curious portfolio, containing the heads of eminent 
 divines of the church of England ; and that my uncle, Sir Paul 
 Mannering, left me sole heir and executor to his large fortune. 
 Yet this availeth me nothing — I told you I had that upon my mind 
 which I should carry to my grave with me, a perpetual aloes in the 
 draught of existence. I will tell you the cause more in detail 
 than I had the heart to do while under your hospitable roof. You 
 will often hear it mentioned, and perhaps with different and un- 
 founded circumstances. I will therefore speak it out ; and then let 
 the event itself, and the sentiments of melancholy with which 
 it has impressed me, never again be subject of discussion 
 between us. 
 
 " Sophia, as you well know, followed me to India. She was as 
 innocent as gay ; but, unfortunately for us both, as gay as innocent. 
 My own manners were partly for-lned by studies I had forsaken, 
 and habits of seclusion, not quite consistent with my situation as 
 
88 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 commandant of a regiment in a country where universal hospitality 
 is offered and expected by every settler claiming the rank of a 
 gentleman. In a moment of peculiar pressure (you know how 
 hard we were sometimes run to obtain white faces to countenance 
 our line-of-battle), a young man, named Brown, joined our regiment 
 as a volunteer, and finding the military duty more to his fancy than 
 commerce, in which he had been engaged, remained with us as a 
 cadet. Let me do my unhappy victim justice— he behaved with 
 such gallantry on every occasion that offered, that the first vacant 
 commission was considered as his due. I was absent for some 
 weeks upon a distant expedition ; when I returned, I found this 
 young fellow established quite as the friend of the house, and 
 habitual attendant of my wife and daughter. It was an arrange- 
 ment which displeased me in many particulars, though no objection 
 could be made to his manners or character — Yet I might have been 
 reconciled to his familiarity in my family, but for the suggestions of 
 another. If you read over — what I never dare open — the play of 
 Othello, you will have some idea of what followed — I mean, of my 
 motives — my actions, thank God ! were less reprehensible. There 
 was another cadet ambitious of the vacant situation. He called 
 my attention to what he led me to term coquetry between my wife 
 and this young man. Sophia was virtuous, but proud of her 
 virtue ; and, irritated by my jealousy, she was so imprudent as to 
 press and encourage an intimacy which she saw I disapproved and 
 regarded with suspicion. Between Brown and me there existed a 
 sort of internal dislike. He made an effort or two to overcome my 
 prejudice ; but, prepossessed as I was, I placed them to a wrong 
 motive. Feeling himself repulsed, and with scorn, he desisted ; 
 and as he was without family and friends, he was naturally more 
 watchful of the deportment of one who had both. 
 
 " It is odd with what torture I write this letter. I feel, inclined, 
 nevertheless, to protract the operation, just as if my doing so could 
 put off the catastrophe which has so long embittered my life. But 
 it must be told, and it shall be told briefly. 
 
 " My wife, though no longer young, was still eminently handsome, 
 and — let me say thus far in my own justification — she was fond of 
 being thought so — I am repeating what I said before — In a word, 
 of her virtue I never entertained a doubt ; but, pushed by the 
 artful suggestions of Archer, I thought she cared little for my peace 
 of mind, and that the young fellow, Brown, paid his attentions in 
 my despite, and in defiance of me. He perhaps considered me, on 
 his part, as an oppressive aristocratic man, who made my rank 
 in society, and in the army, the means of galling those whom 
 circumstances placed beneath me. And if he discovered my silly 
 
GUY MANNERING. 89 
 
 jealousy, he probably considered the fretting me in that sore point 
 of my character, as one means of avenging the petty indignities to 
 which I had it in my power to subject him. Yet an acute friend 
 of mine gave a more harmless', or at least a less offensive, con- 
 struction to his attentions, which he conceived to be meant for my 
 daughter Julia, though immediately addressed to propitiate the in- 
 fluence of her mother. This could have been no very flattering or 
 pleasing enterprise on the part of an obscure and nameless young 
 man ; but I should not have been offended at this folly, as I was at 
 the higher degree of presumption I suspected. Offended, however, 
 I was, and in a mortal degree. 
 
 " A very slight spark will kindle a flame where everything lies 
 open to catch it. I have absolutely forgot the proximate cause of 
 quarrel, but it was some trifle which occurred at the card-table, 
 which occasioned high words' and a challenge. We met in the 
 morning beyond the walls and esplanade of the fortress which I 
 then commanded, on the frontiers of the settlement. This was 
 arranged for Brown's safety, had he escaped. I almost wish he 
 had, though at my own expense ; but he fell by the first fire. We 
 strove to assist him ; but some of these Looties, a species of native 
 banditti who were always on the watch for prey, poured in upon 
 us. Archer and I gained our horses with difficulty, and cut our way 
 through them after a hard conflict, in the course of which he 
 received some desperate wounds. To complete the misfortunes of 
 this miserable day, my wife, who suspected the design with which 
 I left the fortress, had ordered her palanquin to follow me, and was 
 alarmed and almost made prisoner by another troop of these 
 plunderers. She was quickly released by a party of our cavalry ; 
 V)ut I cannot disguise from myself, that the incidents of this fatal 
 morning gave a severe shock to health already delicate. The 
 confession of Archer, who thought himself dying, that he had 
 invented some circumstances, and, for his purposes, put the worst 
 construction upon others, and the full explanation and exchange 
 of forgiveness with me which this produced, could not check the 
 progress of her disorder. She died within about eight months 
 after this incident, bequeathing me only the girl, of whom 
 Mrs. Mervyn is so good as to undertake the temporary charge. 
 Julia was also extremely ill ; so much so, that I was induced to 
 throw up my command and return to Europe, where her native air 
 time, and the novelty of the scenes around her, have contributed 
 to dissipate her dejection, and restore her health. 
 
 " Now that you know my story, you will no longer ask me the 
 reason of my melancholy, but permit me to brood upon it as I 
 may. There is, surely, in the above narrative, enough to embitter, 
 
9<J GUY MANNERING. 
 
 though not to poison, the chalice, which the fortune and fame you 
 so often mention had prepared to regale my years of retirement. 
 
 " I could add circumstances which our old tutor would have 
 quoted as instances of day fatality, — you would laugh were I to 
 mention such particulars, especially as you know I put no faith in 
 them. Yet, since I have come to the very house from which I now 
 write, I have learned a singular coincidence, which, if I find it 
 truly established by tolerable evidence, will serve us hereafter for 
 subject of curious discussion. But I will spare you at present, as 
 I expect a person to speak about a purchase of property now open 
 in this part of the country. It is a place to which I have a foolish 
 partiality, and I hope my purchasing may be convenient to those 
 who are parting with it, as there is a plan for buying it under the 
 value. My respectful compliments to Mrs. Mervyn, and I will 
 trust you, though you boast to be so lively a young gentleman, to 
 kiss Julia for me. — Adieu, dear Mervyn. — Thine ever, 
 
 "Guy Mannering." 
 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan now entered the room. The well-known charac- 
 ter of Colonel Mannering at once disposed this gentleman, who was 
 a man of intelligence and probity, to be open and confidential. He 
 explained the advantages and disadvantages of the property. " It 
 was settled," he said, " the greater part of it at least, upon heirs- 
 male, and the purchaser would have the privilege of retaining in 
 his hands a large proportion of the price, in case of the re- 
 appearance, within a certain limited term, of the child who had 
 disappeared." 
 
 " To what purpose, then, force forward a sale ? " said Mannering. 
 
 Mac-Morlan smiled. " Ostensibly," he answered, " to substitute 
 the interest of money, instead of the ill-paid and precarious rents 
 of an unimproved estate ; but chiefly, it was believed, to suit the 
 wishes and views of a certain intended purchaser, who had become 
 a principal creditor, and forced himself into the management of 
 the affairs by means best known to himself, and who, it was 
 thought, would find it very convenient to purchase the estate with- 
 out paying down the price." 
 
 Mannering consulted with Mr. Mac-Morlan upon the steps for 
 thwarting this unprincipled attempt. They then conversed long on 
 the singular disappearance of Harry Bertram upon his fifth birth- 
 day, verifying thus ths random prediction of Mannering, of which, 
 however, it will readily be supposed he made no boast. Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan was not himself in office when that incident took place ; 
 but he was well acquainted with all the circumstances, and promised 
 that our hero should have them detailed by the sheriff-depute 
 
GUY MANNERING. 91 
 
 himself, if, as he proposed, he should become a settler in that part 
 of Scotland. With this assurance they parted, well satisfied with 
 each other, and with the evening's conference. 
 
 On the Sunday following, Colonel Mannering attended the parish 
 church with great decorum. None of the Ellahgowan family were 
 present ; and it was understood that the old Laird was rather worse 
 than better. Jock Jabos, once more dispatched for him, returned 
 once more without his errand ; but, on the following day, Miss 
 Bertram hoped he might be removed. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 They told me, by the sentence of the law, 
 They had commission to seize all thy fortune. 
 Here stood a ruffian with a horrid face, 
 Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate, 
 Tumbled into a heap for public sale ; — 
 There was another, making villanous jests 
 At thy undoing ; he had ta'en possession 
 Of all thy ancient most domestic ornaments 
 
 Otway. 
 
 Early next morning, Mannering mounted his horse, and, ac- 
 companied by his servant, took the road to Ellangowan. He had 
 no need to inquire the way. A sale in the country is a place of 
 public resort and amusement, and peool^ a£ various descriptions 
 streamed to it from all quarters. 
 
 After a pleasant ride of about an hour, the old towers of the 
 ruin presented themselves in the landscape. The thoughts, with 
 what different feelings he had lost sight of them so many years 
 before, thronged upon the mind of the traveller. The landscape 
 was the same; but how changed the feelings, hopes, and views, of 
 the spectator ! Then, life and love were new, and all the prospect 
 was gilded by their rays. And now, disappointed in affection, 
 sated with fame, and what the world calls -'success, his mind 
 goaded by bitter and repentant recollection, his best hope was to 
 find a retirement in which he might nurse the melancholy that was 
 to accompany him to his grave. " Yet why should an individual 
 mourn over the instability of his hopes, and the vanity of his 
 prospects? The ancient chiefs, who erected these enormous and 
 massive towers to be the fortress of their race and the seat of their 
 power, could they have dreamed the day was to come, when the 
 last of their descendants should be expelled, a ruined wanderer, 
 from his possessions ! But Nature's bounties are unaltered. The 
 sun will shine as fair on these ruins, whether the property of a 
 
92 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 stranger, or of a sordid and obscure trickster of the abused law, 
 as when the banners of the founder first waved upon their 
 battlements." 
 
 These reflections brought Mannering to the door of the house, 
 which was that day open to all. He entered among others, who 
 traversed the apartments, some to select articles for purchase, others 
 to gratify their curiosity. There is something melancholy in such 
 a scene, even under the most favourable circumstances. The con- 
 fused state of the furniture, displaced for the convenience of being 
 easily viewed and carried off by the purchasers, is disagreeable to 
 the eye. Those articles which, properly and decently arranged, 
 look creditable and handsome, have then a paltry and wretched 
 appearance ; and the apartments, stripped of all that render them 
 commodious and comfortable, have an aspect of ruin and dilapida- 
 tion. It is disgusting also, to see the scenes of domestic society 
 and seclusion thrown open to the gaze of the curious and the 
 vulgar ; to hear their coarse speculations and brutal jests upon the 
 fashions and furniture to which they are unaccustomed, — a frolic- 
 some humour much cherished by the whisky which in Scotland is 
 always put in circulation on such occasions. All these are ordinary 
 effects of such a scene as Ellangowan now presented; but the 
 moral feeling, that, in this case, they indicated the total ruin 
 of an ancient and honourable family, gave them treble weight 
 and poignancy. 
 
 It was some time before Colonel Mannering could find any one 
 disposed to answer his reiterated questions concerning Ellangowan 
 himself. At length, an old maid-servant, who held her apron to her 
 eyes as she spoke, told him, " the Laird was something better, and 
 they hoped he would be able to leave the house that day. Miss 
 Lucy expected the chaise every moment, and, as the day was fine 
 for the time o' year, they had carried him in his easy chair up to 
 the green before the auld castle, to be out of the way of this unco 
 spectacle." Hither Colonel Mannering went in quest of him, and 
 soon came in sight of the little group, which consisted of four 
 persons. The ascent was steep, so that he had time to recon- 
 noitre them as he advanced, and to consider in what mode he 
 should make his address. 
 
 Mr. Bertram, paralytick, and almost incapable of moving, occu- 
 pied his easy chair, attired in his night-cap, and a loose camlet coat, 
 his feet wrapped in blankets. Behind him, with his hands crossed 
 on the cane upon which he rested, stood Dominie SampsonJ whom 
 Mannering recognised at once. Time had made no change upon 
 him, unless that his black coat seemed more brown, and his gaunt 
 cheeks more lank, than when Mannering last saw him. On one 
 
GUY MANNERING. 93 
 
 side of the old man was a sylph-like form — a young woman of about 
 seventeen, whom the Colonel accounted to be his daughter. She 
 was looking, from time to time, anxiously towards the avenue, as if 
 expecting the post-chaise; and between whiles busied herself in 
 adjusting the blankets, so as to protect her father from the cold, 
 and in answering inquiries, which he seemed to make with a 
 captious and querulous manner. She did not-trust herself to look 
 towards the Place, although the hum of the assembled crowd must 
 have drawn her attention in that direction. The fourth person of 
 the group was a handsome and genteel young man, who seemed to 
 share Miss Bertram's anxiety, and her solicitude to soothe and 
 accommodate her parent. 
 
 This young man was the first who observed Colonel Mannering, 
 and immediately stepped forward to meet him, as if politely to 
 prevent his drawing nearer to the distressed group. Mannering 
 instantly paused and explained. " He was," he said, " a stranger, 
 to whom Mr. Bertram had formerly shown kindness and hospi- 
 tality ; he would not have intruded himself upon him at a period 
 of distress, did it not seem to be in some degree a moment also of 
 desertion ; he wished merely to offer such services as might be in 
 his power to Mr. Bertram and the young lady." 
 
 He then paused at a little distance from the chair. His old 
 acquaintance gazed at him with lack-lustre eye, that intimated no 
 tokens of recognition — the Dominie seemed too deeply sunk in 
 distress even to observe his presence. The young man spoke 
 ■ aside with Miss Bertram, who advanced timidly, and thanked 
 Colonel Mannering for his goodness ; " but," she said, the tears 
 gushing fast into her eyes, " her father, she feared, was not so much 
 himself as to be able to remember him." 
 
 She then retreated towards the chair, accompanied by the Colonel. 
 — " Father," she said, " this is Mr. Mannering, an old friend, come 
 to inquire after you." 
 
 " He's very heartily welcome," said the old man, raising himself 
 in his chair, and attempting a gesture of courtesy, while a gleam 
 of hospitable satisfaction seemed to pass over his faded features ; 
 " B utj Lucy, my dear, let us go down to the house; you should not 
 keep the gentleman here in the cold.— Dominie, take the key of 
 
 the wine-cooler. Mr. a a the gentleman will surely take 
 
 something after his ride." 
 
 Mannering was unspeakably affected by the contrast which his 
 recollection made between this reception and that with which he 
 had been greeted by the same individual when they last met. He 
 could not restrain his tears, and his evident emotion at once 
 attained him the confidence of the friendless young lady. 
 
94 GUY MANNEIIING. 
 
 "Alas !" she said, " this is distressing even to a stranger; but it 
 may be better for my poor father to be in this way, than if he 
 knew and could feel all." 
 
 A servant in livery now came up the path, and spoke in an 
 under tone to the young gentleman — " Mr. Charles, my lady's 
 wanting you yonder sadly, to bid for her for the black ebony 
 cabinet ; and Lady Jane Devorgoil is wi' her an' a' — ye maun come 
 away directly." 
 
 " Tell them you could not find me, Tom ; or, stay— say I am 
 looking at the horses." 
 
 " No, no, no," said Lucy Bertram, earnestly; " if you would not 
 add to the misery of this miserable moment, go to the company 
 directly. — This gentleman, I am sure, will see us to the carriage." 
 
 " Unquestionably, madam," said Mannering; " your young friend 
 may rely on my attention." 
 
 " Farewell, then," said young Hazlewood, and whispered a word 
 in her ear — then ran down the steep hastily, as if not trusting his 
 resolution at a slower pace. 
 
 "Where's Charles Hazlewood running?" said the invalid, who 
 apparently was accustomed to his presence and attentions; 
 "where's Charles Hazlewood running? — what takes him away 
 now?" 
 
 " He'll return in a little while," said Lucy, gently. 
 
 The sound of voices was now heard from the ruins. The reader 
 may remember there was a communication between the castle and 
 the beach, up which the speakers had ascended. 
 
 " Yes, there's plenty of shells and sea-ware for manure, as you 
 observe — and if one inclined to build a new house, which might 
 indeed be necessary, there's a great deal of good hewn stone about 
 this old dungeon for the devil here " 
 
 " Good God ! " said Miss Bertram hastily to Sampson, " 'tis that 
 wretch Glossin's voice ! — if my father sees him, it will kill him 
 outright!" 
 
 Sampson wheeled perpendicularly round, and moved with long 
 strides to confront the attorney, as he issued from beneath the 
 portal arch of the ruin. " Avoid ye ! " he said — " Avoid ye ! wouldst 
 thou kill and take possession?" 
 
 " Come, come, Master Dominie Sampson," answered Glossin, 
 insolently, " if ye cannot preach in the pulpit, we'll have no preach- 
 ing here. We go by the law, my good friend ; we leave the gospel 
 to you." 
 
 The very mention of this man's name had been of late a subject 
 of the most violent irritation to the unfortunate patient. The 
 sound of his voice now produced an instantaneous effect. Mr. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 93 
 
 Bertram started up without assistance, and turned round towards 
 him ; the ghastliness of his features forming a strange contrast with 
 the violence of his exclamations. " Out of my sight, ye viper ! — 
 ye frozen viper, that I warmed till ye stung me! — art thou not 
 afraid that the walls of my father's dwelling should fall and crush 
 thee limb and bone? — are ye not afraid the very lintels of the door 
 of Ellangowan castle should break open and swallow you up ? — • 
 Were ye not friendless, — houseless, — penniless, — when I took ye 
 by the hand — and are ye not expelling me — me, and that innocent 
 girl — friendless, houseless, and penniless, from the house that has 
 sheltered us and ours for a thousand years?" 
 
 Had Glossin been alone, he would probably have slunk off; but 
 the consciousness that a stranger was present, besides the person 
 who came with him (a sort of land surveyor), determined him to 
 resort to impudence. The task, however, was almost too hard, 
 even for his effrontery. — " Sir — Sir — Mr. Bertram— Sir, you should 
 not blame me, but your own imprudence, sir " 
 
 The indignation of Mannering was mounting very high. " Sir," 
 he said to Glossin, " without entering into the merits of this con- 
 troversy, I must inform you, that you have chosen a very improper 
 place, time, and presence for it. And you will oblige me by with- 
 drawing without more words." 
 
 Glossin, being a tall, strong, muscular man, was not unwilling 
 rather to turn upon a stranger whom he hoped to bully, than 
 maintain his wretched cause against his injured patron : — " 1 do 
 not know who you are, sir," he said, " and I shall permit no man 
 to use such d — d freedom with me." 
 
 Mannering was naturally hot-tempered — his eyes flashed a dark 
 light — he compressed his nether lip so closely that the blood 
 sprung, and approaching Glossin — " Look you, sir," he said, -" that 
 you do not know me is of little consequence. / know youj and, if 
 you do not instantly descend that bank, without uttering a single 
 syllable, by the Heaven that is above us, you shall make but one 
 step from the top to the bottom ! " 
 
 The commanding tone of rightful anger silenced at once the 
 ferocity of the bully. He hesitated, turned on his heel, and, mut- 
 tering something between his teeth about unwillingness to alarm 
 the lady, relieved them of his hateful company. 
 
 Mrs. Mac-Candlish's postilion, who had come up in time to hear 
 what passed, said aloud, " If he had stuck by the way, I would have 
 lent him a heezie, the dirty scoundrel, as willingly as ever I pitched 
 a boddle." 
 
 He then stepped forward to announce that his horses were in 
 readiness for the invalid and his daughter. 
 
96 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 But they were no longer necessary. The debilitated frame of 
 Mr. Bertram was exhausted by this last effort of indignant anger, 
 and when he sunk again upon his chair, he expired almost without 
 a struggle or groan. So little alteration did the extinction of the 
 vital spark make upon his external appearance, that the screams 
 of his daughter, when she saw his eye fix and felt his pulse stop, 
 first announced his death to the spectators. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The bell strikes one. — We take no note of time 
 But from its loss. To give it then a tongue 
 Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, 
 I feel the solemn sound. Young. 
 
 The moral, which the poet has rather quaintly deduced from 
 the necessary mode of measuring time, may be well applied to our 
 feelings respecting that portion of it which constitutes human life. 
 We observe the aged, the infirm, and those engaged in occupations 
 of immediate hazard, trembling as it were upon, the very brink of 
 non-existence, but we derive no lesson from the precariousness 
 of their tenure until it has altogether failed. Then, for a moment 
 at least, 
 
 Our hopes and fears 
 Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge 
 Look down — On what? — a fathomless abyss, 
 A dark eternity, — how surely ours ! 
 
 The crowd of assembled gazers and idlers at Ellangowan had 
 followed the views of amusement, or what they called business, 
 which brought them there, with little regard to the feelings of those 
 who were suffering upon that occasion. Few, indeed, knew any- 
 thing of the family. The father, betwixt seclusion, misfortune, and 
 imbecility, had drifted, as it were, for many years, out of the notice 
 of his contemporaries — the daughter had never been known to 
 them. But when the general murmur announced that the un- 
 fortunate Mr. Bertram had broken his heart in the effort to leave 
 the mansion of his forefathers, there poured forth a torrent of 
 sympathy, like the waters from the rock when stricken by the 
 wand of the prophet. The ancient descent and unblemished 
 integrity of the family were respectfully remembered; above all, 
 the sacred veneration due to misfortune, which in Scotland 
 seldom demands its tribute in vain, then claimed and received it. 
 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan hastily announced that he would suspend all 
 
GUY MANNERINQ. 97 
 
 farther proceedings in the sale of the estate and other property, and 
 relinquish the possession of the premises to the young lady, until 
 she could consult with her friends, and provide for the burial of her 
 father. 
 
 Glossin had cowered for a few minutes under the general expres- 
 sion of sympathy, till, hardened by observing that no appearance 
 of popular indignation was directed his way, he had the audicity to 
 require that the sale should proceed. 
 
 " I will take it upon my own authority to adjourn it," said the 
 sheriff-substitute, " and will be responsible for the consequences. I 
 will also give due notice when it is again to go forward. It is for 
 the benefit of all concerned that the lands should bring the 
 highest price the state of the market will admit, and this is 
 surely no time to expect it — I will take the responsibility upon 
 myself." 
 
 Glossin left the room, and the house, too, with secrecy and dis-i 
 patch ; and it was probably well for him that he did so, since our 
 friend Jock Jabos was already haranguing a numerous tribe of 
 bare-legged boys on the propriety of pelting him off the estate. 
 
 Some of the rooms were hastily put in order for the reception of 
 the young lady, and of her fathers dead body. Mannering now 
 found his farther interference would be unnecessary, and might be 
 misconstrued. He observed, too, that several families connected 
 with that of Ellangowan, and who indeed derived their principal 
 claim of gentility from the alliance, were now disposed to pay to 
 their trees of genealogy a tribute, which the adversity of their sup- 
 posed relatives had been inadequate to call forth ; and that the 
 honour of superintending the funeral rites of the dead Godfrey Ber- 
 tram (as in the memorable case of Homer's birth-place) was likely 
 to be debated by seven gentlemen of rank and fortune, none of 
 whom had offered him an asylum while living. He therefore re- 
 solved, as his presence was altogether useless, to make a short tour 
 of a fortnight, at the end of which period the adjourned sale of the 
 estate of Ellangowan was to proceed. 
 
 But before he departed, he solicited an interview • with the 
 Dominie. The poor man appeared, on being informed a gentleman 
 wanted to speak to him, with some expression of surprise in his 
 gaunt features, to which recent sorrow had given an expression yet 
 more grisly. He made two or three profound reverences to Man- 
 nering, and then, standing erect, patiently awaited an explanation of 
 his commands. 
 
 " You are probably at a loss to guess, Mr. Sampson,'' said Man- 
 nering, " what a stranger may have to say to you ? " 
 
 " Unless it were to request that I would undertake to train up 
 
98 GUV MANNERING. 
 
 some youth in polite letters, and humane learning — But I cannot— 
 I cannot — I have yet a task to perform." 
 
 " No, Mr. Sampson, my wishes are not so ambitious. I have no 
 son, and my only daughter, I presume, you would not consider as 
 a fit pupil." 
 
 " Of a surety, no," replied the simple-minded Sampson. " Nath- 
 less, it was I who did educate Miss Lucy in all useful learning, — 
 albeit it was the housekeeper who did teach her those unprofitable 
 exercises of hemming and shaping." 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Mannering, " it is of Miss Lucy I meant to 
 speak — you have, I presume, no recollection of me ? " 
 
 Sampson, always sufficiently absent in mind, neither remembered 
 the astrologer of past years, nor even the stranger who had taken 
 his patron's part against Glossin, so much had his friend's sudden 
 death embroiled his ideas. 
 
 " Well, that does not signify," pursued the Colonel ; " I am an 
 old acquaintance of the late Mr. Bertram, able and willing to assist 
 his daughter in her present circumstances. Besides, I have thoughts 
 of making this purchase, and I should wish things kept in order 
 about the place : will you have the goodness to apply this small 
 sum in the usual family expenses ? " — He put into the Dominie's 
 hand a purse containing some gold. 
 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " exclaimed Dominie Sampson. " But if your 
 honour would tarry " 
 
 " Impossible, sir — impossible," said Mannering, making his es- 
 cape from him. 
 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " again exclaimed Sampson, following to the 
 head of the stairs, still holding out the purse. " But as touching 
 this coined money" 
 
 Mannering escaped down stairs as fast as possible. 
 
 " Pro-di-gi-ous ! " exclaimed Dominie Sampson, yet the third 
 time, now standing at the front door. " But as touching this 
 specie " 
 
 But Mannering was now on horseback, and out of hearing. The 
 Dominie, who had never, either in his own right, or as trustee for 
 another, been possessed of a quarter part of this sum, though it was 
 not above twenty guineas, " took counsel," as he expressed himself, 
 " how he should demean himself with respect unto the fine gold" 
 thus left in his charge. Fortunately he found a disinterested ad- 
 viser in Mac-Morlan, who pointed out the most proper means of 
 disposing of it for contributing to Miss Bertram's convenience, 
 being no doubt the purpose to which it was destined by the 
 bestower. 
 
 Many of the neighbouring gentry were now sincerely eager in 
 
GUY MANNERING. 99 
 
 pressing offers of hospitality and kindness upon Miss Bertram. 
 But she felt a natural reluctance to enter any family, for the first 
 time, as an object rather of benevolence than hospitality, and de- 
 termined to wait the opinion and advice of her father's nearest 
 female relation, Mrs. Margaret Bertram of Singleside, an old un- 
 married lady, to whom she wrote an account of her present distress ■ 
 ful situation. 
 
 The funeral of the late Mr. Bertram was performed with decent 
 privacy, and the unfortunate young lady was now to consider her- 
 self as but the temporary tenant of the house in which she had been 
 born, and where her patience and soothing attentions had so long 
 "rocked the cradle of declining age." Her communication with 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan encouraged her to hope that she would not be 
 suddenly or unkindly deprived of this asylum. But fortune had 
 ordered otherwise. 
 
 For two days before the appointed day for the sale of the lands 
 and estate of Ellangowan, Mac-Morlan daily expected the appear- 
 ance of Colonel Mannering, or at least a letter containing powers to 
 act for him. But none such arrived. Mr. Mac-Morlan waked 
 early in the morning, — walked over to the Post-office, — there were 
 no letters for him. He endeavoured to persuade himself that he 
 should see Colonel Mannering to breakfast, and ordered his wife 
 to place her best china, and prepare herself accordingly. But the 
 preparations were in vain. " Could I have foreseen this," he said, 
 " I would have travelled Scotland over, but I would have found 
 some one to bid against Glossin." — Alas ! such reflections were 
 all too late. The appointed hour' arrived ; and the parties met in 
 the Mason's Lodge at Kippletringan, being the place fixed for the 
 adjourned sale. Mac-Morlan spent as much time in preliminaries 
 as decency would permit, and read over the articles of sale as slowly 
 as if he had been reading his own death-warrant. He turned his 
 eye every time the door of the room opened, with hopes which grew 
 fainter and fainter. He listened to every noise in the street of the 
 village, and endeavoured to distinguish in it the sound of hoofs or 
 wheels. It was all in vain. A bright idea then occurred, that 
 Colonel Mannering might have employed some other person in the 
 transaction — he would not have wasted a moment's thought upon 
 the want of confidence in himself which such a manoeuvre would 
 have evinced. But this hope also was groundless. After a solemn 
 pause, Mr. Glossin offered the upset price for the lands and barony 
 of Ellangowan. No reply was made, and no competitor appeared ; 
 so, after a lapse of the usual interval by the running of a sand-glass, 
 upon the intended purchaser entering the proper sureties, Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan was obliged, in technical terms, to " find and declare the 
 
ioo GUY MANNERING. 
 
 sale lawfully completed, and to prefer the said Gilbert Glossin as the 
 purchaser of the said lands and estate." The honest writer refused 
 to partake of a splendid entertainment with which Gilbert Glossin, 
 Esquire, now of Ellangowan, treated the rest of the company, and 
 returned home in huge bitterness of spirit, which he vented in com- 
 plaints against the fickleness and caprice of these Indian nabobs, 
 who never knew what they would be at for ten days together. 
 Fortune generously determined to take the blame upon herself, and 
 cut off even this vent of Mac-Morlan's resentment. 
 
 An express arrived about six o'clock at night, " very particularly 
 drunk," the maid-servant said, with a packet from Colonel Manner- 
 ing, dated four days back, at a town about a hundred miles' distance 
 from Kippletringan, containing full powers to Mr. Mac-Morlah, or 
 any one whom he might employ, to make the intended purchase, 
 and stating that some family business of consequence called the 
 Colonel himself to Westmoreland, where a letter would find him, 
 addressed to the care of Arthur Mervyn, Esq., of Mervyn Hall. 
 
 Mac-Morlan, in the transports of his wrath, flung the power of 
 attorney at the head of the innocent maid-servant, and was only 
 forcibly withheld from horse-whipping the rascally messenger, by 
 whose sloth and drunkenness the disappointment had taken place. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 My gold is gone, my money is.spent, 
 
 My land now take it unto thee. 
 Give me thy gold, good John o'the Scales, 
 
 And thine for aye my land shall be. 
 
 Then John he did him to record draw, 
 And John he caste him a gods-pennie ; 
 
 But for every pounde that John agreed, 
 The land, I wis, was well worth three. 
 
 Heir of Linne. 
 
 The Galwegian Johno' the Scales was a more clever fellow than 
 his prototype. He contrived to make himself heir of Linne with- 
 out the disagreeable ceremony of " telling down the good red 
 gold." Miss Bertram no sooner heard this painful, and of late un- 
 expected intelligence, than she proceeded in the preparations she 
 had already made for leaving the mansion-house immediately. Mr. 
 Mac-Morlan assisted her in these arrangements, and pressed upon 
 her so kindly the hospitality and protection of his roof, until she 
 should receive an answer from her cousin, or be enabled to adopt 
 
GUY MANNERING. 101 
 
 some settled plan of life, that she felt there would be unkindness in 
 refusing an invitation urged with such earnestness. Mrs. Mac- 
 Morlan was a lady-like person, and well qualified by birth and 
 manners to receive the visit, and to make her house agreeable to 
 Miss Bertram. A home, therefore, and an hospitable reception, were 
 secured to her, and she went on, with better heart, to pay the wages 
 and receive the adieus of the few domestics of her father's family. 
 
 Where there are estimable qualities on either side, this task is 
 always affecting — the present circumstances rendered it doubly so. 
 All received their due, and even a trifle more, and with thanks and 
 good wishes, to which some added tears, took farewell of their 
 young mistress. There remained in the parlour only Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan, who came to attend his guest to his house, Dominie 
 Sampson, and Miss Bertram. " And now," said the poor girl, " I 
 must bid farewell to one of my oldest and kindest friends — God 
 bless you, Mr. Sampson ! and requite to you all the kindness of 
 your instructions to your poor pupil, and your friendship to him that 
 is gone — I hope 1 shall often hear from you." She slid into his 
 hand a paper containing some pieces of gold, and rose, as if to leave 
 the room. 
 
 Dominie Sampson also rose ; but it was to stand aghast with 
 utter astonishment. The idea of parting from Miss Lucy, go where 
 she might, had never once occurred to the simplicity of his under- 
 standing. — He laid the money on the table. " It is certainly inade- 
 quate," said Mac-Morlan, mistaking his meaning, " but the circum- 
 stances " 
 
 Mr. Sampson waved his hand impatiently — " It is not the lucre 
 — it is not the lucre — but that I, that have ate of her father's loaf, 
 and drank of his cup, for twenty years and more — to think that I 
 am going to leave her — and to leave her in distress and dolour — 
 No, Miss Lucy, you need never think it ! You would not consent 
 to put forth your father's poor dog, and would you use me waur than 
 a messan ? No, Miss Lucy Bertram, while I live, I will not separate 
 from you. I'll be no burden — I have thought howjto prevent that. 
 But, as Ruth said unto Naomi, ' Entreat me not to leave thee, nor 
 to depart from thee ; for whither thou goest I will go, and whers 
 thou dwellest I will dwell ; thy people shall be my people, and thy 
 God shall be my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will 
 I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but 
 death do part thee and me.' " 
 
 During this speech, the longest ever Dominie Sampson was 
 known to utter, the affectionate creature's eyes streamed with tears, 
 and neither Lucy nor Mac-Morlan could refrain from sympathizing 
 with this unexpected burst of feeling and attachment. " Mr. Samp- 
 
102 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 son," said Mac-Morlai), after having had recourse to his snuff-box 
 and handkerchief alternately, " my house is large enough, and if 
 you will accept of a bed there, while Miss Bertram honours us with 
 her residence, I shall think myself very happy, and my roof much 
 favoured by receiving a man of your worth and fidelity." And then, 
 with a delicacy which was meant to remove any objection on Miss 
 Bertram's part to bringing with her this unexpected satellite, he 
 added, " My business requires my frequently having occasion for 
 a better accountant than any of my present clerks, and I should 
 be glad to have recourse to your assistance in that way now and 
 then." 
 
 " Of a surety, of a surety," said Sampson, eagerly ; " I under- 
 stand book-keeping by double entry and the Italian method." 
 
 Our postilion had thrust himself into the room to announce his 
 chaise and horses ; he tarried, unobserved, during this extraordi- 
 nary scene, and assured Mrs. Mac-Candlish it was the most moving 
 thing he ever saw ; " the death of the grey mare, puir hizzie, was 
 naething till't." This trifling circumstance afterwards had conse- 
 quences of greater moment to the Dominie. 
 
 The visitors were hospitably welcomed by Mrs. Mac-Morlan, to 
 whom, as well as the others, her husband intimated that he had 
 engaged Dominie Sampson's assistance to disentangle some per- 
 plexed accounts ; during which occupation he would, for conveni- 
 ence sake, reside with the family. Mr. Mac-Morlan's knowledge 
 of the world induced him to put this colour upon the matter, aware, 
 that however honourable the fidelity of the Dominie's attachment 
 might be, both to his own heart and to the family of Ellangowan, 
 his exterior ill qualified him to be a. " squire of dames," and ren- 
 dered him, upon the whole, rather a ridiculous appendage to a 
 beautiful young woman of seventeen. 
 
 Dominie Sampson achieved with great zeal such tasks as 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan chose to intrust him with ; but it was speedily 
 observed that at a certain hour after breakfast he regularly dis- 
 appeared, and returned again about dinner time. The evening he 
 occupied in the labour of the office. On Saturday, he appeared 
 before Mac-Morlan with a look of great triumph, and laid on the 
 table two pieces of gold. 
 
 " What is this for, Dominie ? " said Mac-Morlan. 
 
 " First to indemnify you of your charges in my behalf, worthy 
 sir— and the balance for the use of Miss Lucy Bertram." 
 
 " But, Mr. Sampson, your labour in the office much more thar 
 recompenses me — I am your debtor, my good friend." 
 
 " Then be it all," said the Dominie, waving his hand, "for Mist 
 Lucy Bertram's behoof." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 103 
 
 " Well, but, Dominie, this money" 
 
 " It is honestly come by, Mr. Mac-Morlan ; it is the bountiful 
 reward of a young gentleman, to whom I am teaching the tongues; 
 reading with him three hours daily." 
 
 A few more questions extracted from the Dominie, that this 
 liberal pupil was young Hazlewood, and that he met his preceptor 
 daily at the house of Mrs. Mac-Candlish, whose proclamation of 
 Sampson's disinterested attachment to the young lady had prof ared 
 him this indefatigable and bounteous scholar. 
 
 Mac-Morlan was much struck with what he heard. Dominie 
 Sampson was doubtless a very good scholar, and an excellent man, 
 and the classics were unquestionably very well worth reading ; yet 
 that a young man of twenty should ride seven miles and back 
 again each day in the week, to hold this sort of tete-a-tete of three 
 hours, was a zeal for literature to which he was not prepared to 
 give entire credit. Little art was necessary to sift the Dominie, for 
 the honest man's head never admitted any but the most direct and 
 simple ideas. " Does Miss Bertram know how your time is engaged, 
 my good friend ? " 
 
 " Surely not as yet — Mr. Charles recommended it should be con- 
 cealed from her, lest she should scruple to accept of the small 
 assistance arising from it ; but," he added, " it would not be pos- 
 sible to conceal it long, since Mr. Charles proposed taking his 
 lessons occasionally in this house." 
 
 " O, he does ! " said Mac-Morlan : " Yes, yes, I can understand 
 that better. — And pray, Mr. Sampson, are these three hours entirely 
 spent in construing and translating ? " 
 
 " Doubtless, no — we have also colloquial intercourse to sweeten 
 study — negue semper arcum tendit Apollo!' 
 
 The querist proceeded to elicit from this Galloway Phoebus what 
 their discourse chiefly turned upon. 
 
 " Upon our past meetings at Ellangowan — and, truly, I think 
 very often we discourse concerning Miss Lucy — for Mr. Charles 
 Hazlewood, in that particular, resembleth me, Mr. Mac-Morlan. 
 When I begin to speak of her I never know when to stop — and, as 
 I say (jocularly), she cheats us out of half our lessons." 
 
 " O ho ! " thought Mac-Morlan ; " sits the wind in that quarter ? 
 I've heard something like this before." 
 
 He then began to consider what conduct was safest for his 
 firote'ge'e, and even for himself ; for the senior Mr. Hazlewood was 
 powerful, wealthy, ambitious, and vindictive, and looked for both 
 fortune and title in any connexion which his son might form. At 
 length, having the highest opinion of his guest's good sense and 
 penetration, he determined to take an opportunity, when they 
 
104 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 should happen to be alone, to communicate the matter to her as a 
 simple piece of intelligence. He did so in as natural a manner as 
 he could : — " I wish you joy of your friend Mr. Sampson's good 
 fortune, Miss Bertram ; he has got a pupil who pays him two 
 guineas for twelve lessons of Greek and Latin." 
 
 " Indeed ! — I am equally happy and surprised. — Who can be so 
 liberal ? — is Colonel Mannering returned ? " 
 
 " No, no, not Colonel Mannering ; but what do you think of your 
 acquaintance, Mr. Charles Hazlewood ? — He talks of taking his 
 lessons here. — I wish we may have accommodation for him." 
 
 Lucy blushed deeply. " For Heaven's sake, no, Mr. Mac-Mor- 
 lan— do not let that be — Charles Hazlewood has had enough of 
 mischief about that already." 
 
 " About the classics, my dear young lady ? " wilfully seeming to 
 misunderstand her; — "most young gentlemen have so at one period 
 or another, sure enough ; but his present studies are voluntary." 
 
 Miss Bertram let the conversation drop, and her host made no 
 effort to renew it, as she seemed to pause upon the intelligence in 
 order to form some internal resolution. 
 
 The next day Miss Bertram took an opportunity of conversing 
 with Mr. Sampson. Expressing in the kindest manner her grateful 
 thanks for his disinterested attachment, and her joy that he had 
 got such a provision, she hinted to him that his present mode of 
 superintending Charles Hazlewood's studies must be so incon- 
 venient to his pupil, that, while that engagement lasted, he had 
 better consent to a temporary separation, and reside either with his 
 scholar or as near him as might be. Sampson refused, as indeed 
 she had expected, to listen for a moment to this proposition — he 
 would not quit her to be made preceptor to the Prince of Wales. 
 " But I see," he added, " you are too proud to share my pittance ; 
 and, peradventure, I grow wearisome unto you." 
 
 " No indeed — you were my father's ancient, almost his only 
 friend ; — I am not proud — God knows, I have no reason to be so. — 
 You shall do what you judge best in other matters ; but oblige me 
 by telling Mr. Charles Hazlewood, that you had some conversation 
 with me concerning his studies, and that I was of opinion that his 
 carrying them on in this house was altogether impracticable, and 
 not to be thought of." 
 
 Dominie Sampson left her presence altogether crest-fallen, and, 
 as he shut the door, could not help muttering the " varium et 
 mutabile" of Virgil. Next day he appeared with a very rueful 
 visage, and tendered Miss Bertram a letter.—" Mr. Hazlewood," he 
 said, " was to discontinue his lessons, though he had generously 
 made up the pecuniary loss — But how will he make up the loss to 
 
GUY MANNlJRING. 105 
 
 himself of the knowledge he might have acquired under my in- 
 struction ? Even in that one article of writing, he was an hour 
 before he could write that brief note, and destroyed many scrolls, 
 four quills, and some good white paper — I would have taught him 
 in three weeks a firm, current, clear, and legible hand — he should 
 have been a calligrapher — but God's will be done." 
 
 The letter contained but a few lines, deeply regretting and mur- 
 muring against Miss Bertram's cruelty, who not only refused to see 
 him, but to permit him in the most indirect manner to hear of her 
 health and contribute to her service. But it concluded with assur- 
 ances that her severity was vain, and that nothing could shake the 
 attachment of Charles Hazlewood. 
 
 Under the active patronage of Mrs. Mac-Candlish, Sampson 
 picked up some other scholars — very different indeed from Charles 
 Hazlewood in rank — and whose lessons were proportionally unpro- 
 ductive. Still, however, he gained something, and it was the glory 
 of his heart to carry it to Mr. Mac-Morlan weekly, a slight peculium 
 only subtracted, to supply his snuff-box and tobacco-pouch. 
 
 And here we must leave Kippletringan to look after our hero, 
 lest our readers should fear they are to lose sight of him for another 
 quarter of a century. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Our Polly is a sad slut, nor heeds what we have taught her ; 
 
 I wonder any man alive will ever rear a daughter ; 
 
 For when she's drest with care and cost, all tempting, fine, and gay, 
 
 As men should serve a cucumber, she flings herself away. 
 
 Beggar's Opera. 
 
 After the death of Mr. Bertram, Mannering had set out upon a 
 short tour, proposing to return to the neighbourhood of Ellangowan 
 before the sale of that property should take place. He went, 
 accordingly, to Edinburgh and elsewhere, and it was in his return 
 towards the south-western district of Scotland, in which our scene 
 lies, that, at a post-town about a hundred miles from Kippletringan, 
 t o which he had requested his friend, Mr. Mervyn, to address his 
 letters, he received one from that gentleman, which contained 
 rather unpleasing intelligence. We have assumed already the 
 privilege of acting a secretis to this gentleman, and therefore shall 
 present the reader with an extract from this epistle. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, my dearest friend, for the pain I have given 
 you, in forcing you to open wounds so festering as those your letter 
 referred to. I have always heard, though erroneously perhaps, 
 
io6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 that the attentions of Mr. Brown were intended for Miss Manner- 
 ing. But, however that were, it coirid not be supposed that in your 
 situation his boldness should escape notice and chastisement. Wise 
 men say, that we resign to civil society our natural rights of self- 
 defence, only on condition that the ordinances of law should protect 
 us. Where the price cannot be paid, the resignation becomes void. 
 For instance, no one supposes that I am not entitled to defend my 
 purse and person against a highwayman, as much as if I were a 
 wild Indian, who owns neither law nor magistracy. The question 
 of resistance, or submission, must be determined by my means and 
 situation. But, if, armed and equal in force, I submit to injustice 
 and violence from any man, high or low, I presume it will hardly 
 be attributed to religious or moral feeling in me, or in any one but 
 a quaker. An aggression on my honour seems to me much the 
 same. The insult, however trifling in itself, is one of much deeper 
 consequence to all views in life than any wrong which can be 
 inflicted by a depredator on the highway, and to redress the injured 
 party is much less in the power of public jurisprudence, or rather 
 it is entirely beyond its reach. If any man chooses to rob Arthur 
 Mervyn of the contents of his purse, supposing the said Arthur 
 has not means of defence, or the skill and courage to use them, the 
 assizes at Lancaster or Carlisle will do him justice by tucking up 
 the robber : — Yet who will say I am bound to wait for this justice, 
 and submit to being plundered in the first instance, if I have 
 myself the means and spirit to protect my own property ? But if 
 an affront is offered to me, submission under which is to tarnish 
 my character for ever with men of honour, and for which the twelve 
 Judges of England, with the Chancellor to boot, can afford me 
 no redress, by what rule of law or reason am I to be deterred from 
 protecting what ought to be, and is, so infinitely dearer to every 
 man of honour than his whole fortune ? Of the religious views of 
 the matter I shall say nothing, until I .find a reverend divine who 
 shall condemn self-defence in the article of life and property. If 
 its propriety in that case be generally admitted, I suppose little 
 distinction can be drawn between defence of person and goods, 
 and protection of reputation. That the latter is liable to be 
 assailed by persons of a different rank in life, untainted perhaps in 
 morals, and fair in character, cannot affect my legal right of self- 
 defence. I may be sorry that circumstances have engaged me in 
 personal strife with such an individual ; but I should feel the same 
 sorrow for a generous enemy who fell under my sword in a national 
 quarrel. I shall leave the question with the casuists, however; 
 only observing, that what I have written will not avail either the 
 professed duellist, or him who is the aggressor in a dispute of 
 
GUY MANNERING. 107 
 
 honour. I only presume to exculpate him who is dragged into the 
 field by such an offence, as, submitted to in patience, would forfeit 
 for ever his rank and estimation in society. 
 
 " I am sorry you have thoughts of settling in Scotland, and yet 
 glad that you will still be at no immeasurable distance, and that 
 the latitude is all in our favour. To move to Westmoreland from 
 Devonshire might make an East Indian shudder ; but to come to 
 us from Galloway or Dumfriesshire, is a step, though a short one, 
 nearer the sun. Besides, if, as I suspect, the estate in view be 
 connected with the old haunted castle in which you played the 
 astrologer in your northern tour some twenty years since, I have 
 heard you too often describe the scene with comic unction, to hope 
 you will be deterred from making the purchase. I trust, however, 
 the hospitable gossiping Laird has not run himself upon the 
 shallows, and that his chaplain, whom you so often made us laugh 
 at, is still in rerum natura. 
 
 " And here, dear Mannering, I wish I could stop, for I have 
 incredible pain in telling the rest of my story ; although I am sure 
 I can warn you against any intentional impropriety on the part 
 of my temporary ward, Julia Mannering. But I must still earn my 
 college nickname of Downright Dunstable. In one word, then, 
 here is the matter. 
 
 "Your daughter has much of the romantic turn of your disposi- 
 tion, with a little of that love of admiratipn which all pretty women 
 share less or more. She will besides, apparently, be your heiress ; 
 a trifling circumstance to those who view Julia with my eyes, but a 
 prevailing bait to the specious, artful, and worthless. You know 
 how I have jested with her about her soft melancholy, and lonely 
 walks at morning before any one is up, and in the moonlight when 
 all should be gone to bed, or set down to cards, which is the same 
 thing. The incident which follows may not be beyond the bounds 
 of a joke, but I had rather the jest upon it came from you than me. 
 
 "Two or three times during the last fortnight, I heard, at a late 
 hour in the night, or very early in the morning, a flageolet play 
 the little Hindu tune to which your daughter is so partial. I 
 thought for some time that some tuneful domestic, whose taste for 
 music was laid under constraint during the day, chose that silent 
 hour to imitate the strains which he had caught up by the ear 
 during his attendance in the drawing-room. But last night I sat 
 late in my study, which- is immediately under Miss Mannering's 
 apartment, and to my surprise, I not only heard the flageolet dis- 
 tinctly, but satisfied myself that it came from the lake under the 
 window. Curious to know who serenaded us at that unusual hour, 
 I stole softly to the window of my apartment. But there were 
 
io8 GUY MANNERINQ. 
 
 other watchers than me. You may remember, Miss Mannering 
 preferred that apartment on account of a. balcony which opened 
 from her window upon the lake. Well, sir, I heard the sash of her 
 window thrown up, the shutters opened, and her own voice in con-: 
 versation with some person who answered from below. This is 
 not ' Much ado about nothing : ' I could not be mistaken in her 
 voice, and such tones, so soft, so insinuating— And, to say the 
 truth, the accents from below were in passion's tenderest cadence 
 too — but of the sense I can say nothing. I raised the sash of my 
 own window that I might hear something more than the mere 
 murmur of this Spanish rendezvous ; but, though I used every pre- 
 caution, the noise alarmed the speakers ; down slid the young 
 lady's casement, and the shutters were barred in an instant. The 
 dash of a pair of oars in the water announced the retreat of the 
 male person of the dialogue. Indeed, I saw his boat, which he 
 rowed with great swiftness and dexterity, fly across the lake like a 
 twelve-oared barge. Next morning I examined some of my 
 domestics, as if by accident, and I found the game-keeper, when 
 making his rounds, had twice seen that boat beneath the house, 
 with a single person, and had heard the flageolet. I did not care 
 to press any farther questions, for fear of implicating Julia in the 
 opinions of those of whom they might be asked. Next morning, at 
 breakfast, I dropped a casual hint about the serenade of the 
 evening before, and I promise you Miss Mannering looked red and 
 pale alternately. I immediately gave the circumstance such a turn 
 as might lead her to suppose that my observation was merely 
 casual. I have since caused a watch-light to be burned in my 
 library, and have left the shutters open, to deter the approach of 
 our nocturnal guest ; and I have stated the severity of approaching 
 winter, and the rawness of the fogs, as an objection to solitary 
 walks. Miss Mannering acquiesced with a passiveness which is no 
 part of her character, and which, to tell you the plain truth, is a 
 feature about the business which I like least of all. Julia has too 
 much of her own dear papa's disposition to be curbed in any of her 
 humours, were there not some little lurking consciousness that it 
 may be as prudent to avoid debate. 
 
 " Now my story is told, and you will judge what you ought to do. 
 I have not mentioned the matter to my good woman, who, a faith- 
 ful secretary to her sex's foibles, would certainly remonstrate 
 against your being made acquainted with these particulars, and~ 
 might, instead, take it into her own head to exercise her own 
 eloquence on Miss Mannering ; a faculty which, however powerful 
 when directed against me, its legitimate object, might, I fear, do 
 more harm than good in the case supposed. Perhaps even you 
 
GUY MANNERING. 109 
 
 yourself will find it most prudent to act without remonstrating, or 
 appearing to be aware of this little anecdote. Julia is very like a 
 certain friend of mine ; she has a quick and lively imagination, 
 and keen feelings, which are apt to exaggerate both the good and 
 evil they find in life. She is a charming girl, h&wever, as generous 
 and spirited as she is lovely. I paid her the kiss you sent her with 
 all my heart, and she rapped my fingers for my reward with all 
 hers. Pray return as soon as you can. Meantime, rely upon the 
 care of, yours faithfully, Arthur Mervyn. 
 
 " P.S. — You will naturally wish to know if I have the least guess 
 concerning the person of the serenader. In truth, I have none. 
 There is no young gentleman of these parts, who might be in rank 
 or fortune a match for Miss Julia, that I think at all likely to play 
 such a character. But on the other side of the lake, nearly opposite 
 to Mervyn Hall, is a d — d cake-house, the resort of walking gentle- 
 men of all descriptions, poets, players, painters, musicians, who 
 come to rave, and recite, and madden about this picturesque land 
 of ours. It is paying some penalty for its beauties, that they are the 
 means of drawing this swarm of coxcombs together. But were 
 Julia my daughter, it is one of those sort of fellows that I should fear 
 on her account. She is generous and romantic, and writes six sheets 
 a week to a female correspondent ; and it's a sad thing to lack a 
 subject in such a case, either for exercise of the feelings or of the 
 pen. Adieu, once more. Were I to treat this matter more seri- 
 ously than I have done, I should do injustice to your feelings; were 
 I altogether to overlook it, I should discredit my own." 
 
 The consequence of this letter was, that, having first dispatched 
 the faithless messenger with the necessary powers to Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan for purchasing the estate of Ellangowan, Colonel Manner- 
 ing turned his horse's head in a more southerly direction, and 
 neither " stinted nor staid " until he arrived at the mansion of his 
 friend Mr. Mervyn, upon the banks of one of the lakes of West- 
 moreland. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Heaven first, in its mercy, taught mortals their letters, 
 For ladies in limbo, and lovers in fetters, 
 Or some author, who, placing his persons before ye, 
 Ungallantly leaves them to write their own story." 
 
 Pope, imitated. 
 
 When Mannering returned to England, his first object had been 
 to place his daughter in a seminary for female education, of estab- 
 
no GUY MANNERING. 
 
 lished character. Not, however, finding her progress in the accom- 
 plishments which he wished her to acquire so rapid as his impatience 
 expected, he had withdrawn Miss Mannering from the school at 
 the end of the first quarter. So she had only time to form an 
 eternal friendship with Miss Matilda Marchmont, a young lady 
 about her own age, which was nearly eighteen. To her faithful eye * 
 were addressed those formidable quires which issued forth from 
 Mervyn-hall, on the wings of the post, while Miss Mannering was 
 a guest there. The perusal of a few short extracts from these may 
 be necessary to render our story intelligible : — 
 
 First Extract. 
 " Alas ! my dearest Matilda, what a tale is mine to tell ! Mis- 
 fortune from the cradle has set her seal upon your unhappy friend. 
 That we should be severed for so slight a cause — an ungrammatical 
 phrase in my Italian exercise, and three false notes in one of 
 Paesiello's sonatas ! But it is a part of my father's character, of 
 whom it is impossible to say whether I love, admire, or fear him 
 the most. His success in life and in war — his habit of making 
 every obstacle yield before the energy of his exertions, even where 
 they seemed insurmountable — all these have given a hasty and 
 peremptory cast to his character, which can neither endure contra- 
 diction, nor make allowance for deficiencies. Then he is himself 
 so very accomplished. Do you know there was a murmur, half 
 confirmed too by some mysterious words which dropped from my 
 poor mother, that he possesses other sciences, now lost to the 
 world, which enable the possessor to summon up before him the 
 dark and shadowy forms of future events ! Does not the very idea 
 of such a power, or even of the high talent and commanding 
 intellect which the world may mistake for it,- — does it not, dear 
 Matilda, throw a mysterious grandeur about its possessor ? You 
 will call this romantic : but consider I was born in the land of 
 talisman and spell, and my childhood lulled by tales which you can 
 only enjoy through the gauzy frippery of a French translation. O 
 Matilda, I wish you could have seen the dusky visages of my Indian 
 attendants, bending in earnest devotion round the magic narrative, 
 that flowed, half poetry, half prose, from the lips of the tale teller ! 
 No wonder that European fiction sounds cold and meagre, after 
 the wonderful effects which I have seen the romances of the East 
 produce upon their hearers." 
 
 Second Extract. 
 "You are possessed, my dear Matilda, of my bosom-secret, in 
 those sentiments with which I regard Brown. I will not say his 
 memory. I am convinced he lives, and is faithful. His addresses 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. in 
 
 to me were countenanced by my deceased parent ; imprudently 
 countenanced perhaps, considering the prejudices of my father in 
 favour of birth and rank. But I, then almost a girl, could not be 
 expected surely to be wiser than her under whose charge nature 
 had placed me. My father, constantly engaged in military duty, 
 I saw but at rare intervals, and was taught to look up to him with 
 more awe than confidence. Would to Heaven it had been other- 
 wise ! It might have been better for us all at this day ! " 
 
 Third Extract. 
 
 " You ask me why I do not make known to my father that Brown 
 yet lives, at least that he survived the wound he received in that 
 unhappy duel ; and had written to my mother, expressing his 
 entire convalescence, and his hope of speedily escaping from cap- 
 tivity. A soldier, that ' in the trade of war has oft slain men,' 
 feels probably no uneasiness at reflecting upon the supposed cata- 
 strophe, which almost turned me into stone. And should I show 
 him that letter, does it not follow, that Brown, alive and maintaining 
 with pertinacity the pretensions to the affections of your poor 
 friend, for which my father formerly sought his life, would be a 
 more formidable disturber of Colonel Mannering's peace of mind 
 than in his supposed grave ? If he escapes from the hands of these 
 marauders, I am convinced he will soon be in England, and it will 
 be then time to consider how his existence is to be disclosed to my 
 father. — But if, alas ! my earnest and confident hope should betray 
 me, what would it avail to tear open a mystery fraught with so many 
 painful recollections ? — My dear mother had such dread of its being 
 known, that 1 think she even suffered my father to suspect that 
 Brown's attentions were directed towards herself, rather than permit 
 him to discover their real object; and O Matilda, whatever respect 
 I owe to the memory of a deceased parent, let me do justice to a 
 living one. I cannot but condemn the dubious policy which she 
 adopted, as unjust to my father, and highly perilous to herself and 
 me. — But peace be with her ashes ! — her actions were guided by 
 the heart rather than the head ; and shall her daughter, who 
 inherits all her weakness, be the first to withdraw the veil from her 
 defects?" 
 
 Fourth Extract. 
 
 " Mervyn-Hall. 
 
 " If India be the land of magic, this, my dearest Matilda, is the 
 country of romance. The scenery is such as nature brings together 
 in her sublimest moods ; — sounding cataracts — hills which rear 
 their scathed heads to the sky — lakes, that, winding up the shadowy 
 valleys, lead at every turn to yet more romantic recesses — rocks 
 
H2 GUV MANNERINu. 
 
 which catch the clouds of heaven. All the wildness of Salvator 
 here, and there the fairy scenes of Claude. I am happy, too, in 
 finding at least one object upon which my father can share my 
 enthusiasm. An admirer of nature, both as an artist and a poet, 
 I have experienced the utmost pleasure from the observations by 
 which he explains the character and the effect of these brilliant 
 speqimens of her power. I wish he would settle in this enchanting 
 land. But his views lie still farther north, and he is at present 
 absent on a tour in Scotland, looking, I believe, for some purchase 
 of land which may suit him as a residence. He is partial, from 
 early recollections, to that country. So, my dearest Matilda, I 
 must be yet farther removed from you before I am established in a 
 home. — And O how delighted shall I be when I can say, Come, 
 Matilda, and be the guest of your faithful Julia ! 
 
 " I am at present the inmate of Mr. and Mrs. Mervyn, old 
 friends of my father. The latter is precisely a good sort of woman; 
 — lady-like and housewifely, but, for accomplishments or fancy — 
 good lack, my dearest Matilda, your friend might as well seek 
 sympathy from Mrs. Teach'em, — you see I have not forgot school 
 nicknames. Mervyn is a different — quite a different being from 
 my father ; yet he amuses and endures me. He is fat and good- 
 natured, gifted with strong shrewd sense, and some powers of 
 humour ; but having been handsome, I suppose, in his youth, has 
 still some pretension to be a beau gargon, as well as an enthusiastic 
 agriculturist. I delight to make him scramble to the tops of 
 eminences and to the foot of waterfalls, and am obliged in turn to 
 admire his turnips, his lucerne, and his timothy-grass. He thinks 
 me, I fancy, a simple romantic Miss, with some — (the word will be 
 out) beauty, and some good-nature ; and I hold that the gentleman 
 has good taste for the female outside, and do not expect he should 
 comprehend my sentiments farther. So he rallies, hands, and 
 hobbles (for the dear creature has got the gout too), and tells old 
 stories of high life, of which he has seen a great deal ; and I listen, 
 and smile, and look as pretty, as pleasant, and as simple as I can, 
 and we do very well. 
 
 " But, alas ! my dearest Matilda, how would time pass away, 
 even in this paradise of romance, tenanted as it is by a pair assort- 
 ing so ill with the scenes around them, were it not for your fidelity 
 in replying to my uninteresting details? Pray do not fail to write 
 three times a-week at least — you can be at no loss what to say." 
 
 Fifth Extract. 
 " How shall I communicate what I have now to tell ? — My hand 
 and heart still flutter so much, that the task of writing is almost 
 
GUY MANNERING. n 3 
 
 impossible ! — Did I not say that he lived ? did I not say I would 
 not despair? How could you suggest, my dear Matilda, that my 
 feelings, considering I had parted from him so young, rather arose 
 from the warmth of my imagination than of my heart ? — O ! I was 
 sure that they were genuine, deceitful as the dictates of our bosom 
 so frequently are. — But to my tale— let it be, my friend, the most 
 sacred, as it is the most sincere, pledge of our friendship. 
 
 " Our hours here are early — earlier than my heart, with its load 
 of care, can compose itself to rest. I, therefore, usually take a book 
 for an hour or two after retiring to my own room, which I think I 
 have told you opens to a small balcony, looking down upon that 
 beautiful lake, of which I attempted to give you a slight sketch. 
 Mervyn-hall, being partly an ancient building, and constructed 
 with a view to defence, is situated on the verge of the lake. A stone 
 dropped from the projecting balcony plunges into water deep enough 
 to float a skiff. I had left my window partly unbarred, that, before 
 I went to bed, I might, according to my custom, look out and see 
 the moonlight shining upon the lake. I was deeply engaged with 
 that beautiful scene in the Merchant of Venice, where two lovers, 
 describing the stillness of a summer night, enhance on each other 
 its charms, and was lost in the associations of story and of feeling 
 which it awakens, when I heard upon the lake the sound of a flageo- 
 let. I have told you it was Brown's favourite instrument. Who 
 could touch it in a night which, though still and serene, was too 
 cold, and too late in the year, to invite forth any wanderer for mere 
 pleasures I drew yet nearer the window, and hearkened with 
 breathless attention ; — the sounds paused a space, were then re- 
 sumed — paused again — and again reached my ear, ever coming 
 nearer and nearer. At length, I distinguished plainly that little 
 Hindu air which you called my favourite — I have told you by whom 
 it was taught me ; — the instrument, the tones, were his own ! Was 
 it earthly music, or notes passing on the wind, to warn me of his 
 death ? 
 
 " It was some time ere I could summon courage to step on the 
 balcony — nothing could have emboldened me to do so but the 
 strong conviction of my mind that he was still alive, and that we 
 should again meet — but that conviction did embolden me, and I 
 ventured, though with a throbbing heart. There was a small skiff, 
 with a single person — O, Matilda, it was himself ! — I knew his ap- 
 pearance after so long an absence, and through the shadow of the 
 night, as perfectly as if we had parted yesterday, and met again in 
 the broad sunshine ! He guided his boat under the balcony, and 
 spoke to me. I hardly knew what he said, or what I replied. In- 
 deed, I could scarcely speak for weeping, but they were joyful tears. 
 
«4 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 We were disturbed by the barking of a dog at some distance, and 
 parted, but not before he had conjured me to prepare to meet him 
 at the same place and hour this evening. 
 
 " But where and to what is all this tending ? — Can I answer this 
 question ? I cannot. — Heaven, that saved him from death, and 
 delivered him from captivity ; that saved my father, too, from 
 shedding the blood of one who would not have blemished a hair of 
 his head, that heaven must guide me out of this labyrinth. Enough 
 for me the firm resolution, that Matilda shall not blush for her 
 friend, my father for his daughter, nor my lover for her on whom he 
 has fixed his affection." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Talk with a man out of a window ! — a proper saying. 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing. 
 
 We must proceed with our extracts from Miss Mannering's 
 letters, which throw light upon natural good sense, principle, and 
 feelings, blemished by an imperfect education, and the folly of 
 a misjudging mother, who called her husband in her heart a tyrant 
 until she feared him as such, and read romances until she became 
 so enamoured of the complicated intrigues which they contain, as 
 to assume the management of a little family novel of her own, and 
 constitute her daughter, a girl of sixteen, the principal heroine. 
 She delighted in petty mystery, and intrigue, and secrets, and yet 
 trembled at the indignation which these paltry manoeuvres excited 
 in her husband's mind. Thus she frequently entered upon a 
 scheme merely for pleasure, or perhaps for the love of contradiction, 
 plunged deeper into it than she was aware, endeavoured to extricate 
 herself by new arts, or to cover her error by dissimulation, became 
 involved in meshes of her own weaving, and was forced to carry on, 
 for fear of discovery, machinations which she had at first resorted 
 to in mere wantonness. 
 
 Fortunately the young man whom she so imprudently introduced 
 into her intimate society, and encouraged to look up to her 
 daughter, had a fund of principle and honest pride,, which rendered 
 him a safer intimate than Mrs. Mannering ought to have dared to 
 hope or expect. The obscurity of his birth could alone be objected 
 to him ; in every other respect, 
 
 With prospects bright upon the world he came, 
 Pure love of virtue, strong desire of fame ; 
 Men watched the way his lofty mind would take, 
 And all foretold the progress he would make. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 "S 
 
 But it could not be expected that he should resist the snare which 
 Mrs. Mannering's imprudence threw in his way, or avoid becoming 
 attached to a young lady, whose beauty and manners might have 
 justified his passion, even in scenes where these are more generally 
 met with, than in a remote fortress in our Indian settlements. The 
 scenes which followed have been partly detailed in Mannering's 
 letter to Mr. Mervyn ; and to expand what is there stated into 
 farther explanation, would be to abuse the patience of our readers. 
 
 We shall, therefore, proceed with our promised extracts from 
 Miss Mannering's letters to her friend. 
 
 Sixth Extract. 
 
 " I have seen him again, Matilda — seen him twice. I have used 
 every argument to convince him that this secret intercourse is 
 dangerous to us both — I even pressed him to pursue his views of 
 fortune without farther regard to me, and to consider my peace of 
 mind as sufficiently secured by the knowledge that he had not 
 fallen under my father's sword. He answers — but how can I detail 
 all he has to answer ? He claims those hopes as his due which my 
 mother permitted him to entertain, and would persuade me to the 
 madness of a union without my father's sanction. But to this, 
 Matilda, I will not be persuaded. I have resisted, I have subdued, 
 the rebellious feelings which arose to aid his plea ; yet how to 
 extricate myself from this unhappy labyrinth, in which fate and 
 folly have entangled us both ! 
 
 " I have thought upon it, Matilda, till my head is almost giddy 
 — nor can I conceive a better plan than to make a full confession 
 to my father. He deserves it, for his kindness is unceasing ; and I 
 think I have observed in his character, since I have studied it 
 more nearly, that his harsher feelings are chiefly excited where he 
 suspects deceit or imposition ; and in that respect, perhaps, his 
 character was formerly misunderstood by one who was dear to him. 
 He has, too, a tinge of romance in his disposition ; and I have seen 
 the narrative of a generous action, a trait of heroism, or virtuous 
 self-denial, extract tears from him, which refused to flow at a tale 
 of mere distress. But then, Brown urges, that he is personally 
 hostile to him — And the obscurity of his birth — that would be 
 indeed a stumbling-block. O Matilda, I hope none of your 
 ancestors ever fought at Poictiers or Agincourt ! If it were not for 
 the veneration which my father attaches to the memory of old Sir 
 Miles Mannering, I should make out my explanation with half the 
 tremor which must now attend it." 
 
 Seventh Extract. 
 " I have this instant received your letter— your most welcome 
 
 H 3 
 
u6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 letter !— Thanks, my dearest friend, for your sympathy and your 
 counsels — I can only repay them with unbounded confidence. 
 
 "You ask me, what Brown is by origin, that his descent should 
 be so unpleasing to my father. His story is shortly told. He is of 
 Scottish extraction ; but, being left an orphan, his education was 
 undertaken by a family of relations, settled in Holland. He was 
 bred to commerce, and sent very early to one of our settlements in 
 the East, where his guardian had a correspondent. But this 
 correspondent was dead when he arrived inlndia, and he had no 
 other resource than to offer himself as a clerk to a counting-house. 
 The breaking out of the war, and the straits to which we were at 
 first reduced, threw the army open to all young men who were 
 disposed to embrace that mode of life ; and Brown, whose genius 
 had a strong military tendency, was the first to leave what might 
 have been the road to wealth, and to choose that of fame. The 
 rest of his history is well known to you ; but conceive the irritation 
 of my father, who despises commerce (though, by the way, the best 
 part of his property was made in that honourable profession by my 
 great uncle), and has a particular antipathy to the Dutch ; think 
 with what ear he would be likely to receive proposals for his only 
 child from Vanbeest Brown, educated for charity by the house of 
 Vanbeest and Vanbruggen ! O Matilda, it will never do — nay, so 
 childish am I, I hardly can help sympathising with his aristocratic 
 feelings. Mrs. Vanbeest Brown ! The name has little to recom- 
 mend it to be sure. — What children we are ! " 
 
 Eighth Extract. 
 
 " It is all over now, Matilda !— I shall never have courage to tell 
 my father — nay, most deeply do I fear he has already learned my 
 secret from another quarter, which will entirely remove the grace 
 of my communication, and ruin whatever gleam of hope I had 
 ventured to connect with it. Yesternight, Brown came as usual, 
 and his flageolet on the lake announced his approach. We, had 
 agreed that he should continue to use this signal. These romantic 
 lakes attract numerous visitors, who indulge their enthusiasm in 
 visiting the scenery at all hours, and we hoped, that if Brown were 
 noticed from the house, he might pass for one of those admirers of 
 nature, who was giving vent to his feelings through the medium of 
 music. The sounds might also be my apology, should I be 
 observed on the balcony. But last night, while I was eagerly 
 enforcing my plan of a full confession to my father, which he as 
 earnestly deprecated, we heard the window of Mr. Mervyn's 
 library, which is under my room, often softly. I signed to Brown 
 
GUY MANNERING. 117 
 
 to make his retreat, and immediately re-entered, with some faint 
 hopes that our interview had not been observed. 
 
 " But, alas ! Matilda, these hopes vanished the instant I beheld 
 Mr. Mervyn's countenance at breakfast the next morning. He 
 looked so provokingly intelligent and confidential, that, had I 
 dared, I could have been more angry than ever I was in my life. 
 But I must be on good behaviour, and my walks are now limited 
 within his farm precincts, where the good gentleman can amble 
 along by my side without inconvenience. I have detected him 
 once or twice attempting to sound my thoughts, and watch the 
 expression of my countenance. He has talked of the flageolet 
 more than once ; and has at different times made eulogiums upon 
 the watchfulness and ferocity of his dogs, and the regularity with 
 which the keeper makes his rounds with a loaded fowling-piece. 
 He mentioned even man-traps and spring-guns. I should be loath 
 to affront my father's old friend in his own house ; but I do long 
 to show him that I am my father's daughter, a fact of which 
 Mr. Mervyn will certainly be convinced, if ever I trust my voice 
 and temper with a reply to these indirect hints. Of one thing I am 
 certain — I am grateful to him on that account — he has not told 
 Mrs. Mervyn. Lord help me, I should have had such lectures 
 about the dangers of love and the night air on the lake, the risk 
 arising from colds and fortune-hunters, the comfort and convenience 
 of sack-whey and closed windows ! — I cannot help trifling, Matilda, 
 though my heart is sad enough. What Brown will do I cannot 
 guess. I presume, however, the fear of detection prevents his 
 resuming his nocturnal visits. He lodges at an inn on the opposite 
 shore of the lake, under the name, he tells me, of Dawson — he has 
 a bad choice in names, that must be allowed. He has not left the 
 army, I believe, but he says nothing of his present views. 
 
 " To complete my anxiety, my father is returned suddenly, and 
 in high displeasure. Our good hostess, as I learned from a bust- 
 ling conversation between her housekeeper and her, had no 
 expectation of seeing him for a week ; but I rather suspect his 
 arrival was no surprise to his friend Mr. Mervyn. His manner to 
 me was singularly cold and constrained — sufficiently so to have 
 damped all the courage with which I once resolved to throw myself 
 on his generosity. He lays the blame of his being discomposed 
 and out of humour to the loss of a purchase in the south-west of 
 Scotland, on which he had set his heart ; but I do not suspect his 
 equanimity of being so easily thrown off its balance. His first 
 excursion was with Mr. Mervyn's barge across the lake, to the inn 
 I have mentioned. You may imagine the agony with which I 
 waited his return — Had he recognised Brown, who can guess the 
 
ti8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 consequence? He returned, however, apparently without having 
 made any discovery. I understand, that in consequence of his 
 late disappointment, he means now to hire a house in the neigh- 
 bourhood of this same Ellangowan, of which I am doomed to hear 
 so much — he seems to think it probable that the estate for which 
 he wishes may soon be again in the market. I will not send away 
 this letter until I hear more distinctly what are his intentions." 
 
 " I have now had an interview with my father, as confidential as, 
 I presume, he means to allow me. He requested me to-day, after 
 breakfast, to walk with him into the library ■ my knees, Matilda, 
 shook under me, and it is no exaggeration to say I could scarce 
 follow him into the room. I feared I knew not what — from my 
 childhood I had seen all around him tremble at his frown. He 
 motioned me to seat myself, and I never obeyed a command so 
 readily, for, in truth, I could hardly stand. He himself continued 
 to walk up and down the room. You have seen my father, and 
 noticed, I recollect, the remarkably expressive cast of his features. 
 His eyes are naturally rather light in colour, but agitation or anger 
 gives them a darker and more fiery glance ; he has a custom also 
 of drawing in his lips, when much moved, which implies a combat 
 between native ardour of temper and the habitual power of self- 
 command. This was the first time we had been alone since his 
 return from Scotland, and, As he betrayed these tokens of agitation, 
 I had little doubt that he was about to enter upon the subject 
 I most dreaded. 
 
 " To my unutterable relief, I found I was mistaken, and that 
 whatever he knew of Mr. Mervyn's suspicions or discoveries, he 
 did not intend to converse with me on the topic. Coward as I was, 
 I was inexpressibly relieved, though if he had really investigated 
 the reports which may have come to his ear, the reality could have 
 been nothing to what his suspicions might have conceived. But 
 though my spirits rose high at my unexpected escape, I had not 
 courage myself to provoke the discussion, and remained silent to 
 receive his commands. 
 
 ' Julia,' he said, ' my agent writes me from Scotland, that he has 
 been able to hire a house for me, decently furnished, and with the 
 necessary accommodation for my family — it is within three miles of 
 
 that I had designed to purchase.' Then he made a pause, and 
 
 seemed to expect an answer. 
 
 ' Whatever place of residence suits you, sir, must be perfectly 
 agreeable to me.' 
 
 ' Umph !— I do not propose, however, Julia, that you shall reside 
 quite alone in this house during the winter.' 
 
GUY MANNERING. 119 
 
 h Mr. and Mrs. Mervyn, thought I to myself. — ' Whatever com- 
 pany is agreeable to you, sir,' I answered aloud 
 
 ' O, there is a little too much of this universal spirit of submission ; 
 an excellent disposition in action, but your constantly repeating the 
 jargon of it, puts me in mind of the eternal salaams of our black 
 dependents in the East. In short, Julia, I know you have a relish 
 for society, and I intend to invite a young person, the daughter of 
 a deceased friend, to spend a few months with us.' 
 
 'Not a governess, for the love of Heaven, papa"!' exclaimed 
 poor I, my fears at that moment totally getting the better of my 
 prudence. 
 
 ' No, not a governess, Miss Mannering,' replied the Colone^ 
 somewhat sternly, ' but a young lady from whose excellent example, 
 bred as she has been in the school of adversity, I trust you may 
 learn the art to govern yourself.' 
 
 " To answer this was trenching upon too dangerous ground, so 
 there was a pause. 
 
 ' Is the young lady a Scotchwoman, papa?' 
 
 ' Yes ' — dryly enough. 
 
 ' Has she much of the accent, sir ? ' 
 
 ' Much of the devil ! ' answered my father hastily : ' do you think 
 I care about a's and aa's, and z's and ee's ? — I tell you, Julia, I am 
 serious in the matter. You have a genius for friendship, that is, 
 for running up intimacies which you call sucrr' — (was not this very 
 harshly said, Matilda ?)— ' Now I wish to give you an opportunity 
 at least to make one deserving friend, and therefore I have resolved 
 that this young lady shall be a member of my family for some 
 months, and I expect you will pay to her that attention which is 
 due to misfortune and virtue.' 
 
 ' Certainly, sir. — Is my future friend red-haired?' 
 
 " He gave me one of his stern glances ; you will say, perhaps, I 
 deserved it ; but I think the deuce prompts me with teasing ques- 
 tions on some occasions. 
 
 ' She is as superior to you, my love, in personal appearance, as 
 in prudence and affection for her friends.' 
 
 ' Lord, papa, do you think that superiority a recommendation ? 
 — Well, sir, but I see you are going to take all this too seriously: 
 whatever the young lady may be, I. am sure, being recommended 
 by you, she shall have no reason to complain of my want of 
 attention.' — (After a pause) — 'Has she any attendant? because you 
 know I must provide for her proper accommodation if she is with- 
 out one.' 
 
 'N — no — no— not properly an attendant — the chaplain who 
 
120 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 lived with her father is a very good sort of man, and I believe 
 I shall make room for him in the house.' 
 
 ' Chaplain, papa ? Lord bless us ! ' 
 
 ' Yes, Miss Mannering, chaplain ; is there anything very new in 
 that word ? Had we not a chaplain at the Residence, when we 
 were in India ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, papa, but you was a commandant then.' 
 
 ' So I will be now, Miss Mannering, — in my own family at least.' 
 
 'Certainly, sir, — But will he read us the Church of England 
 service ? ' 
 
 " The apparent simplicity with which I asked this question got 
 the better of his gravity. ' Come, Julia,' he said, ' you are a sad 
 girl, but I gain nothing by scolding you. — Of these two strangers, 
 the young lady is one whom you cannot fail, I think, to love ; — 
 the person whom, for want of a better term, I called chaplain, is a 
 very worthy, and somewhat ridiculous personage, who will never 
 find out you laugh at him, if you don't laugh very loud indeed.' 
 
 ' Dear papa ! I am delighted with that part of his character. — 
 But pray, is the house we are going to as pleasantly situated as 
 this?' 
 
 ' Not perhaps as much to your taste — there is no lake under the 
 windows, and you will be under the necessity of having all your 
 music within doors.' 
 
 " This last coup de main ended the keen encounter of our wits, 
 for you may believe, Matilda, it quelled all my courage to reply. 
 
 " Yet my spirits, as perhaps will appear too manifest from this 
 dialogue, have risen insensibly, and, as it were, in spite of myself. 
 Brown alive, and free, and in ^ England ! Embarrassment and 
 anxiety I can and must endure. We leave this in two days for our 
 new residence. I shall not fail to let you know what I think of 
 these Scotch inmates, whom I have but too much reason to 
 believe my father means to quarter in his house as a brace of 
 honourable spies ; a sort of female Rozencrantz and reverend 
 Guildenstern, one in tartan petticoats, the other in a cassock. 
 What a contrast to the society I would willingly have secured to 
 myself ! I shall write instantly on my arriving at our new place of 
 abode, and acquaint my dearest Matilda with the farther fates of 
 — her— Julia Mannering." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Which sloping hills around enclose, 
 Where many a beech and brown oak grows, 
 Beneath whose dark and branching bowers, 
 Its tides a far-fam'd river pours, 
 By nature's beauties taught to please, 
 Sweet Tusculan of rural ease ! — 
 
 Warton. 
 
 Woodbourne, the habitation which Mannering, by Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan's mediation, had hired for a season, was a large comfortable 
 mansion, snugly situated beneath a hill covered with wood, which 
 shrouded the house upon the north and east ; the front looked 
 upon a little lawn bordered by a grove of old trees ; beyond were 
 some arable fields, extending down to the river, which was seen 
 from the windows of the house. A tolerable, though old-fashioned 
 garden, a well-stocked dove-cot, and the possession of any quantity 
 of ground which the convenience of the family might require, 
 rendered the place in every respect suitable, as the advertisements 
 have it, "for the accommodation of a genteel family." 
 
 Here, then, Mannering resolved, for some time at least, to set up 
 the staff of his rest. Though an East-Indian, he was not partial 
 to an ostentatious display of wealth. In fact, he was too proud a 
 man to be a vain one. He resolved, therefore, to place himself 
 upon the footing of a country gentleman of easy fortune, without 
 assuming, or permitting his household to assume, any of the faste 
 which then was considered as characteristic of a nabob. 
 
 He had still his eye upon the purchase of Ellangowan, which 
 Mac-Morlan conceived Mr. Glossin would be compelled to part 
 with, as some of the creditors disputed his title to retain so large a 
 part of the purchase-money in his own hands, and his power to pay 
 it was much questioned. In that case Mac-Morlan was assured 
 he would readily give up his bargain, if tempted with something 
 above the price which he had stipulated to pay. It may seem 
 strange that Mannering was so much attached to a spot which he 
 had only seen once, and that for a short time, in early life. But 
 the circumstances which passed there had laid a strong hold on his 
 imagination. There seemed to be a fate which conjoined the 
 remarkable passages of his own family history with those of the 
 inhabitants of Ellangowan, and he felt a mysterious desire to call 
 the terrace his own, from which he had read in the book of heaven 
 a fortune strangely accomplished in the person of the infant heir 
 of that family, and corresponding so closely with one which had 
 
122 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 been strikingly fulfilled in his own. Besides, when once this 
 thought had got possession of his imagination, he could not with- 
 out great reluctance brook the idea of his plan being defeated, and 
 by a fellow like Glossin. So pride came to the aid of fancy, and 
 both combined to fortify his resolution to buy the estate if 
 possible. 
 
 Let us do Mannering justice. A desire to serve the distressed 
 had also its share in determining him. He had considered the 
 advantage which Julia might receive from the company of Lucy 
 Bertram, whose genuine prudence and good sense could so surely 
 be relied upon. This idea had become much stronger since Mac- 
 Morlan had confided to him, under the solemn seal of secrecy, the 
 whole of her conduct towards young Hazlewood. To propose to 
 her to become an inmate in his family, if distant from the scenes 
 of her youth and the few whom she called friends, would have been 
 less delicate ; but at Woodbourne she might without difficulty be 
 induced to become the visitor of a season, without being depressed 
 into the situation of an humble companion. Lucy Bertram, with 
 some hesitation, accepted the invitation to reside a few weeks with 
 Miss Mannering. She felt too well, that however the Colonel's 
 delicacy might disguise the truth, his principal motive was a gene- 
 rous desire to afford her his countenance and protection, which his 
 high connexions, and higher character, were likely to render 
 influential in the neighbourhood. 
 
 About the same time the orphan girl received a letter from Mrs. 
 Bertram, the relation to whom she had written, as cold and com- 
 fortless as could well be imagined. It enclosed, indeed, a small 
 sum of money, but strongly recommended economy, and that Miss 
 Bertram should board herself in some quiet family, either at Kip- 
 pletringan or in the neighbourhood, assuring her, that though her 
 own income was very scanty, she would not see her kinswoman 
 want. Miss Bertram shed some natural tears over this cold- 
 hearted epistle ; for in her mother's time, this good lady had been 
 a guest at Ellangowan for nearly three years, and it was only upon 
 succeeding to a property of about .£400 a-year that she had taken 
 farewell of that hospitable mansion, which otherwise might have 
 had the honour of sheltering her until the death of its owner. Lucy 
 was strongly inclined to return the paltry donation, which, after 
 some struggles with avarice, pride had extorted from the old lady. 
 But on consideration, she contented herself with writing, that she 
 accepted it as a loan, which she hoped in a short time to repay, 
 and consulted her relative upon the invitation she had received 
 from Colonel and Miss Mannering. This time the answer came in 
 course of post, so fearful was Mrs. Bertram that some frivolous 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 123 
 
 delicacy, or nonsense, as she termed it, might induce her cousin to 
 reject such a promising offer, and thereby at the same time to leave 
 herself still a burden upon her relations. Lucy, therefore, had no 
 alternative, unless she preferred continuing a burden upon the 
 worthy Mac-Morlans, who were too liberal to be rich. Those 
 kinsfolk, who formerly requested the favour of her company, had 
 of late, either silently, or with expressions of resentment that she 
 should have preferred Mac-Morlan's invitation to theirs, gradually 
 withdrawn their notice. 
 
 The fate of Dominie Sampson would have been deplorable had 
 it depended upon any one except Mannering, who was an admirer 
 of originality ; for a separation from Lucy Bertram would have cer- 
 tainly broken his heart. Mac-Morlan had given a full account of 
 his proceedings towards the daughter of his patron. The answer 
 was a request from Mannering to know, whether the Dominie still 
 possessed that admirable virtue of taciturnity by which he was so 
 notably distinguished at Ellangowan. Mac-Morlan replied in the 
 affirmative. " Let Mr. Sampson know," said the Colonel's next 
 letter, " that I shall want his assistance to catalogue and put in 
 order the library of my uncle, the bishop, which I have ordered to 
 be sent down by sea. I shall also want him to copy and arrange 
 some papers. Fix his salary at what you think befitting. Let the 
 poor man be properly dressed, and accompany his young lady to 
 Woodbourne." 
 
 Honest Mac-Morlan received this mandate with great joy, but 
 pondered much upon executing that part of it which related to 
 newly attiring the worthy Dominie. He looked at him with a scru- 
 tinizing eye, and it was but too plain that his present garments 
 were daily waxing more deplorable. To give him money, and bid 
 him go and furnish himself, would be only giving him the means 
 of making himself ridiculous ; for when such a rare event arrived 
 to Mr. Sampson as the purchase of new garments, the additions 
 which he made to his wardrobe by the guidance of his own taste, 
 usually brought all the boys of the village after him for many days. 
 On the other hand, to bring a tailor to measure him, and send 
 home his clothes as for a schoolboy, would probably give offence. 
 At length Mac-Morlan resolved to consult Miss Bertram, and 
 request her interference. She assured him, that though she could 
 not pretend to superintend a gentleman's wardrobe, nothing was 
 more easy than to arrange the Dominie's. 
 
 "At Ellangowan," she said, "whenever my poor father thought 
 any part of the Dominie's dress wanted renewal, a servant was 
 directed to enter his room by night, for he sleeps as fast as a dor- 
 mouse, carry off the old vestment, and leave the new one ; nor 
 
124 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 could any one observe that the Dominie exhibited the least con- 
 sciousness of the change put upon him on such occasions." 
 
 Mac-Morlan, in conformity with Miss Bertram's advice, pro- 
 cured a skilful artist, who, on looking at the Dominie attentively, 
 undertook to make for him two suits of clothes, one black, and one 
 raven-grey, and even engaged that they should fit him — as well at 
 least (so the tailor qualified his enterprise) as a man of such an 
 out-of-the-way build could be fitted by merely human needles and 
 shears. When this fashioner had accomplished his task, and the 
 dresses were brought home, Mac-Morlan, judiciously resolving to 
 accomplish his purpose by degrees, withdrew that evening an im- 
 portant part of his dress, and substituted the new article of raiment 
 in its stead. Perceiving that this passed totally without notice, he 
 next ventured on the waistcoat, and lastly on the coat. When 
 fully metamorphosed, and arrayed for the first time in his life in a 
 decent dress, they did observe, that the Dominie seemed to have 
 some indistinct and embarrassing consciousness that_a change had 
 taken place on his outward man. Whenever they observed this 
 dubious expression gather upon his countenance, accompanied 
 with a glance, that fixed now upon the sleeve of his coat, now upon 
 the knees of his breeches, where he probably missed some antique 
 patching and darning, which, being executed with blue thread upon 
 a black ground, had somewhat the effect of embroidery, they 
 always took care to turn his attention into some other channel, 
 until his garments, "by the aid of use, cleaved to their mould." 
 The only remark he was ever known to make on the subject was, 
 that the " air of a town like Kippletringan seemed favourable unto 
 wearing apparel, for he thought his coat looked almost as new as 
 the first day he put it on, which was when he went to stand trial for 
 his licence as a preacher." 
 
 When the Dominie first heard the liberal proposal of Colonel 
 Mannering, he turned a jealous and doubtful glance towards -Miss 
 Bertram, as if he suspected that the project involved their separa- 
 tion ; but when Mr. Mac-Morlan hastened to explain that she 
 would be a guest at Woodbourne for some time, he rubbed his huge 
 hands together, and burst into a portentous sort of chuckle, like 
 that of the Afrite in the tale of the Caliph Vathek. After this 
 unusual explosion of satisfaction, he remained quite passive in all 
 the rest of the transaction. 
 
 It had been settled that Mr. and Mrs. Mac-Morlan should take 
 possession of the house a few days before Mannering's arrival, 
 both to put everything in perfect order, and to make the trans- 
 ference of Miss Bertram's residence from their family to his as 
 easy and delicate as possible. Accordingly, in the begin- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 125 
 
 ning of the month of December the party were settled at Wood- 
 bourne. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A gigantic genius, fit to grapple with whole libraries. 
 
 Boswell's Life of Johnson. 
 
 The appointed day arrived, when the Colonel and Miss Man- 
 nering were expected at Woodbourne. The hour was fast ap- 
 proaching, and the little circle within doors had each their separate 
 subjects of anxiety. Mac-Morlan naturally desired to attach to 
 himself the patronage and countenance of a person of Mannering's 
 wealth and consequence. He was aware, from his knowledge of 
 mankind, that Mannering, though generous and benevolent, had 
 the foible of expecting and exacting a minute compliance with his 
 directions. He was therefore racking his recollection to discover 
 if everything had been arranged to meet the Colonel's wishes and 
 instructions, and, under this uncertainty of mind, he traversed the 
 house more than once from the garret to the stables. Mrs. Mac- 
 Morlan revolved in a lesser orbit, comprehending the dining- 
 parlour, housekeepers room, and kitchen. She was only afraid 
 that the dinner might be spoiled, to the discredit of her housewifely 
 accomplishments. Even the usual passiveness of the Dominie was 
 so far disturbed, that he twice went to the window, which looked 
 out upon the avenue, and twice exclaimed, " Why tarry the wheels 
 of their chariot ? " Lucy, the most quiet of the expectants, had 
 her own melancholy thoughts. She was now about to be con- 
 signed to the charge, almost to the benevolence, of strangers, 
 with whose character, though hitherto very amiably displayed, 
 she was but imperfectly acquainted. The moments, therefore, of 
 suspense, passed anxiously and heavily. 
 
 At length the trampling of horses and the sound of wheels were 
 heard. The servants, who had already arrived, drew up in the hall 
 to receive their master and mistress, with an importance and 
 empressement, which, to Lucy, who had never been accustomed to 
 society, or witnessed what is called the manners of the great, had 
 something alarming. Mac-Morlan went to the door to receive the 
 master and mistress of the family, and in a few moments they 
 were in the drawing-room. 
 
 Mannering, who had travelled as usual on horseback, entered 
 with his daughter hanging upon his arm. She was of the 
 middle size, or rather less, but formed with much elegance ; 
 piercing dark eyes, and jet black hair of great length, corresponded 
 
126 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 with the vivacity and intelligence of features, in which were blended 
 a little haughtiness and a little bashfulness, a great deal of shrewd- 
 ness, and some power of humorous sarcasm. " I shall not like 
 her," was the result of Lucy Bertram's first glance ; " and yet I 
 rather think I shall," was the thought excited by the second. 
 
 Miss Mannering was furred and mantled up to the throat against 
 the severity of the weather ; the Colonel in his military great-coat. 
 He bowed to Mrs. Mac-Morlan, whom his daughter also acknow- 
 ledged with a fashionable curtsy, not dropped so low as at all to 
 incommode her person. The Colonel then led his daughter up to 
 Miss Bertram, and, taking the hand of the latter, with an air of 
 great kindness, and almost paternal affection, he said, " Julia, this 
 is the young lady whom I hope our good friends have prevailed on 
 to honour our house with a long visit. I shall be much gratified 
 indeed if you can render Woodbourne as pleasant to Miss Bertram, 
 as Ellangowan was to me when I first came as a wanderer into this 
 country." 
 
 The young lady curtsied acquiescence, and took her new friend's 
 hand. Mannering now turned his eye upon the Dominie, who had 
 made bows since his entrance into the room, sprawling out his leg, 
 and bending his back like an automaton, which continues to repeat 
 the same movement until the motion is stopt by the artist. " My 
 good friend, Mr. Sampson," — said Mannering, introducing him to 
 his daughter, and darting at the same time a reproving glance at 
 the damsel, notwithstanding he had himself some disposition to 
 join her too obvious inclination to risibility — " This gentleman, 
 Julia, is to put my books in order when they arrive, and I expect 
 to derive great advantage from his extensive learning." 
 
 " I am sure we are obliged to the gentleman, papa, and, to 
 borrow a ministerial mode of giving thanks, I shall never forget 
 the extraordinary countenance he has been pleased to show us. — 
 But, Miss Bertram," continued she hastily, for her father's brows 
 began to darken, " we have travelled a good way, — will you permit 
 me to retire before dinner ? " 
 
 This intimation dispersed all the company save the Dominie, 
 who, having no idea of dressing but when he was to rise, or of un- 
 dressing but when he meant to go to bed, remained by himself, 
 chewing the cud of a mathematical demonstration, until the com- 
 pany again assembled in the drawing-room, and from thence 
 adjourned to the dining-parlour. 
 
 When the day was concluded, Mannering took an opportunity to 
 hold a minute's conversation with his daughter, in private. 
 
 " How do you like your guests, Julia ?" 
 
 " O, Miss Bertram of all things— But this is a most original 
 
GUY MANNERING. tiif 
 
 parson — why, dear sir, no human being will be able to look at him 
 without laughing." 
 
 "While he is under my roof, Julia, every one must learn to 
 do so." „ 
 
 " Lord, papa, the very footmen could not .keep their gravity ! " 
 
 " Then let them strip off my livery," said the Colonel, " and 
 laugh at their leisure. Mr. Sampson is a man whom I esteem for 
 his simplicity and benevolence of character." 
 
 " O, I am convinced of his generosity too," said this lively lady ; 
 "he cannot lift a spoonful of soup to his mouth without bestowing 
 a share on everything round." 
 
 " Julia, you are incorrigible; — but remember, I expect your mirth 
 on this subject to be under such restraint, that.it shall neither 
 offend this worthy man's feelings, nor those of Miss Bertram, who 
 may be more apt to feel upon his account than he on his own. 
 And so, good-night, my dear ; and recollect that though Mr. Samp- 
 son has certainly not sacrificed to the graces, there are many things 
 in this world more truly deserving of ridicule than either awkward- 
 ness of manners or simplicity of character." 
 
 In a day or two Mr. and Mrs. Mac-Morlan left Woodbourne, after 
 taking an affectionate farewell of their late guest. The household 
 were now settled in their new quarters. The young ladies followed 
 their studies and amusements together. Colonel Mannering was 
 agreeably surprised to find that Miss Bertram was well skilled in 
 French and Italian, thanks to the assiduity of Dominie Sampson, 
 whose labour had silently made him acquainted with most modern 
 as well as ancient languages. Of music she knew little or nothing, 
 but her new friend undertook to give her lessons ; in exchange for 
 which, she was to learn from Lucy the habit of walking, and the 
 art of riding, and the courage necessary to defy the season. Man- 
 nering was careful to substitute for their amusement in the evening 
 such books as might convey some solid instruction with entertain- 
 _ ment, and as he read aloud with great skill and taste, the winter 
 nights passed pleasantly away. 
 
 Society was quickly formed where there were so many induce- 
 ments. Most of the families of the neighbourhood visited Colonel 
 Mannering, and he was toon able to select from among them such 
 as best suited his taste and habits. Charles Hazlewood held a dis- 
 tinguished place in his favour, and was a frequent visitor, not 
 without the consent and approbation of his parents ; for there was 
 no knowing, they thought, what assiduous attention might produce, 
 and the beautiful Miss Mannering, of high family, with an Indian 
 fortune, was a prize worth looking after. Dazzled with such a pros- 
 pect, they never considered the risk which had once been some 
 
T28 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 object of their apprehension, that his boyish and inconsiderate 
 fancy might form an attachment to the penniless Lucy Bertram, 
 who had nothing on earth to recommend her, but a pretty face, 
 good birth, and a most amiable disposition. Mannering was more 
 prudent. He considered himself acting as Miss Bertram's guar- 
 dian, and, while he did not think it incumbent upon him altogether 
 to check her intercourse with a young gentleman for whom, except- 
 ing in wealth, she was a match in every respect, he laid it under 
 such insensible restraints as might prevent any engagement or eclair- 
 cissement taking place until the young man should have seen a 
 little more of life and of the world, and have attained that age 
 when he might be considered as entitled to judge for himself in the 
 matter in which his happiness was chiefly interested. 
 
 While these matters engaged the attention of the other members 
 of the Woodbourne family, Dominie Sampson was occupied, body 
 and soul, in the arrangement of the late bishop's library, which had 
 been sent from Liverpool by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty 
 carts from the sea-port at which it was landed. Sampson's joy at 
 beholding the ponderous contents of these chests arranged upon 
 the floor of the large apartment, from whence he was to transfer 
 them to the shelves, baffles all description. He grinned like an 
 ogre, swung his arms like the sails of a windmill, shouted " Pro- 
 digious " till the roof rang to his raptures. " He had never," he 
 said, " seen so many books together, except in the College Library ;" 
 and now his dignity and delight in being superintendent of the 
 collection, raised him, in his own opinion, almost to the rank of the 
 academical librarian, whom he had always regarded as the greatest 
 and happiest man on earth. Neither were his transports diminished 
 upon a hasty examination of the contents of these volumes. Some, 
 indeed, of belles lettres, poems, plays, or memoirs, he tossed in- 
 dignantly aside, with the implied censure of " psha," or "frivolous ;" 
 but the greater and bulkier part of the collection bore a very dif- 
 ferent character. The deceased prelate, a divine of the old and 
 deeply-learned cast, had loaded his shelves with volumes which 
 displayed the antique and venerable attributes so happily described 
 by a modern poet : — 
 
 That weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid, 
 Those ample clasps of solid metal made, 
 The close-press'd leaves unop'd for many an age, 
 The dull red edging of the well-fill'd page, 
 On the broad back the stubborn ridges roll'd, 
 Where yet the title stands in tarnish 'd gold. 
 
 Books of theology and controversial divinity, commentaries, and 
 polyglots, sets of the fathers, and sermons, which might each fur- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 129 
 
 nish forth ten brief discourses of modern date, books of science, 
 ancient and modern, classical authors in their best and rarest forms ; 
 such formed the late bishop's venerable library, and over such the 
 eye of Dominie Sampson gloated with rapture. He entered them 
 in the catalogue in his best running hand, forming each letter with 
 the accuracy of a lover writing a valentine, and placed each indi- 
 vidually on the destined shelf with all the reverence which I have 
 seen a lady pay to a jar of old china. With all this zeal his 
 labours advanced slowly. He often op'ened a volume when half- 
 way up the library steps, fell upon some interesting passage, and, 
 without shifting his inconvenient posture, continued immersed in 
 the fascinating perusal until the servant pulled him by the skirts to 
 assure him that dinner waited. He then repaired to the parlour, 
 bolted his food down his capacious throat in squares of three inches, 
 answered ay and no at random at whatever question was asked at 
 him, and again hurried back to the library as soon as his napkin 
 was removed, and sometimes with it hanging round his neck like a 
 pin-a-fore— 
 
 " How happily the days 
 Of Thalaba went by ! " 
 
 And, having thus left the principal characters of our tale in a 
 situation which, being sufficiently comfortable to themselves, is of 
 course utterly uninteresting to the reader, we take up the history of 
 a person who has as yet only been named, and who has all the 
 interest that uncertainty and misfortune can give. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 What sa/st thou, Wise-One ? — that all powerful Love 
 Can fortune's strong impediments remove ; 
 Nor is it strange that worth should wed to worth, 
 The pride of genius with the pride of birth. 
 
 , CRABBE. 
 
 V. Brown — I will not give at full length his thrice unhappy name 
 — had been from infancy a ball for fortune to spurn at ; but nature 
 had given him that elasticity of mind which rises higher from the 
 rebound. His form was tall, manly, and active, and his features 
 corresponded with his person ; for, although far from regular, they 
 had an expression of intelligence and good humour, and when he 
 spoke, or was particularly animated, might be decidedly pronounced 
 interesting. His manner indicated the military profession, which 
 had been his choice, and in which he had now attained the rank of 
 Captain, the person who succeeded Colonel Mannering in his com- 
 
 1 
 
130 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 mand having laboured to repair the injustice which Brown had sus- 
 tained by that gentleman's prejudice against him. But this, as well 
 as his liberation from captivity, had taken place after Mannering 
 left India. Brown followed at no distant period, his regiment being 
 recalled home. His first inquiry was after the family of Mannering, 
 and, easily learning their route northward, he followed it, with the 
 purpose of resuming his addresses to Julia. With her father he 
 deemed he had no measures to keep ; for, ignorant of the more 
 venomous belief which had been instilled into the Colonel's mind, 
 he regarded him as an oppressive aristocrat, who had used his 
 power as a commanding officer to deprive him of the preferment 
 due to his behaviour, and who had forced upon him a personal 
 quarrel, without any better reason than his attentions to a pretty 
 young woman, agreeable to herself, and permitted and counten- 
 anced by her mother. He was determined, therefore, to take no 
 rejection unless from the young lady herself, believing that the heavy 
 misfortunes of his painful wound and imprisonment were direct 
 injuries received from the father, which might dispense with his 
 using much ceremony towards him. How far his scheme had suc- 
 ceeded when his nocturnal visit was discovered by Mr. Mervyn, 
 our readers are already informed. 
 
 Upon this unpleasant occurrence, Captain Brown absented him- 
 self from the inn in which he had resided under the name of Daw- 
 son, so that Colonel Mannering's attempts to discover and trace him 
 were unavailing. He resolved, however, that no difficulties should 
 prevent his continuing his enterprise, while Julia left him a ray of 
 hope. The interest he had secured in her bosom was such as she 
 had been unable to conceal from him, and with all the courage of 
 romantic gallantry he determined upon perseverance. But we be- 
 lieve the reader will be as well pleased to learn his mode of thinking 
 and intentions from his own communication to his special friend 
 and confident, Captain Delaserre, a Swiss gentleman, who had a 
 company in his regiment. 
 
 Extract. 
 
 " Let me hear from you soon, dear Delaserre. — Remember, I can 
 learn nothing about regimental affairs but through your friendly 
 medium, and I long to know what has become of Ayre's court-mar- 
 tial, and whether Elliot gets the majority ; also how recruiting 
 comes on, and how the young officers like the mess. Of our kind 
 friend, the Lieutenant- Colonel, I need ask nothing ; I saw him as 
 I passed through Nottingham, happy in the bosom of his family. 
 What a happiness it is, Philip, for us poor devils, that we have a little 
 resting place between the camp and the grave, if we can manage to 
 escape disease, and steel, and lead, and the effects of hard living. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 131 
 
 A retired old soldier is always a graceful and respected character. 
 He grumbles a little now and then, but then his is licensed mur- 
 muring — were a lawyer, or a physician, or a clergyman, to breathe 
 a complaint of hard luck or want of preferment, a hundred tongues 
 would blame his own incapacity as the cause. But the most stupid 
 veteran that ever -faltered out the thrice-told tale of a siege and a 
 battle, and a cock and a bottle, is listened to with sympathy and 
 reverence, when he shakes his thin locks, and talks with indignation 
 of the boys that are put over his head. And you and I, Delaserre, 
 foreigners both, — for what am I the better that I was originally a 
 Scotchman, since, could I prove my descent, the English would 
 hardly acknowledge me a countryman ? — we may boast that we 
 have fought out our preferment, and gained that by the sword which 
 we had not money to compass otherwise. The English are a wise 
 people. While they praise themselves, and affect to undervalue all 
 other nations, they leave us, luckily, trap-doors and back-doors 
 open, by which we strangers, less favoured by nature, may arrive at 
 a share of their advantages. And thus they are, in some respects, 
 like a boastful landlord, who exalts the value and flavour of his 
 six-years-old mutton, while he is delighted to dispense a share of it 
 to all the company. In short, you, whose proud family, and I, whose 
 hard fate, made us soldiers of fortune, have the pleasant recollec- 
 tion, that in the British service, stop where we may upon our 
 career, it is only for want of money to pay the turnpike, and not 
 from our being prohibited to travel the road. If, therefore, you can 
 persuade little Weischel to come into ours, for God's sake let him 
 buy the ensigncy, live prudently, mind his duty, and trust to the 
 fates for promotion. 
 
 " And now, 1 hope you are expiring with curiosity to learn the 
 end of my romance. I told you I had deemed it convenient to 
 make a few days' tour on foot among the mountains of Westmore- 
 land, with Dudley, a young English artist, with whom I have formed 
 some acquaintance. A fine fellow this, you must know, Delaserre 
 — he paints tolerably, draws beautifully, converses well, and plays 
 charmingly on the flute ; and, though thus well entitled to be a 
 coxcomb of talent, is, in fact, a modest, unpretending young man. 
 On our return from our little tour, I learned that the enemy had 
 been reconnoitring. Mr. Mervyn's barge had crossed the lake, I 
 was informed by my landlord, with the squire himself and a visitor. 
 
 ' What sort of person, landlord ? ' 
 
 ' Why, he was a dark officer-looking mon, at they called 
 Colonel — Squoire Mervyn questioned me as close as I had been at 
 sizes — I had guess, Mr. Dawson' (I told you that was my feigned 
 name) — ' But I tould him nought of your vagaries, and going out a 
 
 1 2 
 
T33 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 laking in the mere a-noights — not I— an I can make no sport, Vse 
 spoil none — and Squoire Mervyn's as cross as poy-crust too, mon 
 — he's aye maundering an my guests but land beneath his house, 
 though it be marked for the fourth station in the Survey. Noa, noa, 
 e'en let un smell things out o' themselves for Joe Hodges.' 
 
 " You will allow there was nothing for it after this, but paying 
 honest Joe Hodges' bill, and departing, unless I had preferred 
 making him my confidant, for which I felt in no way inclined. 
 Besides, I learned that our ci-devant Colonel was on full retreat 
 for Scotland, carrying off poor Julia along with him. I understand 
 from those who conduct the heavy baggage, that he takes his 
 
 winter-quarters at a place called Woodbourne, in shire in 
 
 Scotland. He will be all on the alert just now, so I must let him 
 enter his entrenchments without any new alarm. And then, my 
 good Colonel, to whom I owe so many grateful thanks, pray look 
 to your defence. 
 
 " I protest to you, Delaserre, I often think there is a little con- 
 tradiction enters into the ardour of my pursuit. I think I would 
 rather bring this haughty insulting man to the necessity of calling 
 his daughter Mrs. Brown, than I would wed her with his full 
 consent, and with the king's permission to change my name for 
 the style and arms of Mannering, though his whole fortune went 
 with them. There is only one circumstance that chills me a 
 little — Julia is young and romantic. I would not willingly hurry 
 her into a step which her riper years might disapprove — No ; — nor 
 would I like to have her upbraid me, were it but with a glance of 
 her eye, with having ruined her fortunes — far less give her reason 
 to say, as some have not been slow to tell their lords, that, had 
 I left her time for consideration, she would have been wiser and 
 done better. No, Delaserre — this must not be. The picture 
 presses close upon me, because I am aware a girl in Julia's situa- 
 tion has no distinct and precise idea of the value of the sacrifice 
 she makes. She knows difficulties only by name; and, if she 
 thinks of love and a farm, it is a ferme orne"e, such as is only to be 
 found in poetic description, or in the park of a gentleman of 
 twelve thousand a-year. She would be ill prepared for the priva- 
 tions of that real Swiss cottage Ave have so often talked of, and 
 for the difficulties which must necessarily surround us even before 
 we attained that haven. This must be a point clearly ascertained. 
 Although Julia's beauty and playful tenderness have made an 
 impression on my heart never to be erased, I must be satisfied 
 that she perfectly understands the advantages she foregoes, before 
 she sacrifices them for my sake. 
 
 " Am I too proud, Delaserre, when I trust that even this trial 
 
GUY MANNERING. 133 
 
 may terminate favourably to my wishes ? — Am I too vain when 
 I suppose, that the few personal qualities which I possess, with 
 means of competence, however moderate, and the determina- 
 tion of consecrating my life to her happiness, may make amends 
 for all I must call upon her to forego ? Or will a difference of 
 dress, of attendance, of style, as it is called, of the power of 
 shifting at pleasure the scenes in which she seeks amusement, — 
 will these outweigh, in her estimation, the prospect of domestic 
 happiness, and the interchange of unabating affection ? I say 
 nothing of her father; — his good and evil qualities are so strangely 
 mingled, that the former are neutralized by the latter ; and that 
 which she must regret as a daughter is so much blended with what 
 she would gladly escape from, that I place the separation of the 
 father and child as a circumstance which weighs little in her 
 remarkable case. Meantime I keep up my spirits as I may. I 
 have incurred too many hardships and difficulties to be presump- 
 tuous or confident in success, and I have been too often and too 
 wonderfully extricated from them to be despondent. 
 
 " I wish you saw this country. I think the scenery would delight 
 you. At least it often brings to my recollection your glowing 
 descriptions of your native country. To me it has in a great 
 measure the charm of novelty. Of the Scottish hills, though born 
 among them, as I have always been assured, I have but an 
 indistinct recollection. Indeed, my memory rather dwells upon 
 the blank which my youthful mind experienced in gazing on 
 the levels of the isle of Zealand, than on anything which preceded 
 that feeling; but I am confident, from that sensation, as well as 
 from the recollections which preceded it, that hills and rocks have 
 been familiar to me at an early period, and that though now only 
 remembered by contrast, and by the blank which I felt while 
 gazing around for them in vain, they must have made an indelible 
 impression on my infant imagination. I remember, when we first 
 mounted that celebrated pass in the Mysore country, while most 
 of the others felt only awe and astonishment at the height and 
 grandeur of the scenery, I rather shared your feelings and those of 
 Cameron, whose admiration of such wild rocks was blended with 
 familiar love, derived from early association. Despite my Dutch 
 education, a blue hill to me is as a friend, and a roaring torrent 
 like the sound of a domestic song that hath soothed my infancy. 
 I never felt the impulse so strongly as in this land of lakes and 
 mountains, and nothing grieves me so much as that duty prevents 
 your being with me in my numerous excursions among its recesses. 
 Some drawings I have attempted, but I succeed vilely — Dudley, 
 on the contrary, draws delightfully, with that rapid touch which 
 
134 liUY MANNER1NG. 
 
 seems like magic, while I labour and botch, and make this too 
 heavy, and that too light, and produce at last a base caricature. 
 I must stick to the flageolet, for music is the only one of the fine 
 arts which deigns to acknowledge me. 
 
 " Did you know that Colonel Mannering was a draughtsman? — 
 I believe not, for he scorned to display his accomplishments to the 
 view of a subaltern. He draws beautifully, however. Since he and 
 Julia left Mervyn-hall, Dudley was sent for there. The squire, it 
 seems, wanted a set of drawings made up, of which Mannering 
 had done the first four, but was interrupted, by his hasty departure, 
 in his purpose of completing them. Dudley says he has seldom 
 seen anything so masterly, though slight ; and each had attached 
 to it a short poetical description. Is Saul, you will say, among the 
 prophets? — Colonel Mannering write poetry! — Why, surely this 
 man must have taken all the pains to conceal his accomplishments, 
 that others do to display theirs. How reserved and unsociable he 
 appeared among us ! — How little disposed to enter into any con- 
 versation which could become generally interesting ! — And then his 
 attachment to that unworthy Archer, so much below him in every 
 respect ; and all this, because he was the brother of Viscount 
 Archerfield, a poor Scottish peer ! I think if Archer had longer 
 survived the wounds in the affair of Cuddyboram, he would have 
 told something that might have thrown light upon the incon- 
 sistencies of this singular man's character. He repeated to me 
 more than once, ' I have that to say, which will alter your hard 
 opinion of our late Colonel.' But death pressed him too hard; and 
 if he owed me any atonement, which some of his expressions 
 seemed to imply he died before it could be made. 
 
 " I propose to make a further excursion through this country 
 while this fine frosty weather serves, and Dudley, almost as good 
 a walker as myself, goes with me for some part of the way. We 
 part on the borders of Cumberland, when he must return to his 
 lodgings in Marybone, up three pair of stairs, and labour at what 
 he calls the commercial part of his profession. There cannot, he 
 says, be such a difference betwixt any two portions of existence as 
 between that in which the artist, if an enthusiast, collects the 
 subjects of his drawings, and that which must necessarily be 
 dedicated to turning over his portfolio, and exhibiting them to the 
 provoking indifference, or more provoking criticism, of fashionable 
 amateurs. 'During the summer of my year,' says Dudley, 'I am 
 as free as a wild Indian, enjoying myself at liberty amid the 
 grandest scenes of nature ; while, during my winters and springs, 
 I am not only cabined, cribbed, and confined in a miserable 
 garret, but condemned to as intolerable subservience to the humou'' 
 
GUY MANNERING. 135 
 
 of others, and to as indifferent company, as if I were a literal 
 galley-slave.' I hvve promised him your acquaintance, Delaserre ; 
 you will be delighted with his specimens of art, and he with your 
 Swiss fanaticism for mountains and torrents. 
 
 "When I lose Dudley's company, I am informed that I can 
 easily enter Scotland by stretching across a wild country in 
 the upper part of Cumberland ; and that route I shall follow, to 
 give the Colonel time to pitch his camp ere I reconnoitre his 
 position. — Adieu ! Delaserre — I shall hardly find another oppor- 
 tunity of writing till I reach Scotland." 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Jog on, jog on, the footpath way, 
 
 And merrily hent the stile-a ; 
 A merry heart goes all the day, 
 
 Your sad tires in a mile-a. 
 
 Winter's Tale. 
 
 Let the reader conceive to himself a clear frosty November 
 morning, the scene an open heath, having for the back-ground 
 that huge chain of mountains in which Skiddaw and Saddleback 
 are pre-eminent; let him look along that blind road, by which I 
 mean the track so slightly marked by the passengers' footsteps, 
 that it can but be traced by a slight shade of verdure from the 
 darker heath around it, and, being only visible to the eye when at 
 some distance, ceases to be distinguished while the foot is actually 
 treading it — along this faintly traced path advances the object of 
 our present narrative. His firm step, his erect and free carriage, 
 have a military air, which corresponds well with his well-pro- 
 portioned limbs, and stature of six feet high. His dress is so 
 plain and simple, that it indicates nothing as to rank — it may be 
 that of a gentleman who travels in this manner for his pleasure, 
 or of an inferior person, of whom it is the proper and usual garb. 
 Nothing can be on a more reduced scale than his travelling 
 equipment. A volume of Shakspeare in each pocket, a small 
 bundle with a change of linen slung across his shoulders, an oaken 
 cudgel in his hand, complete our pedestrian's accommodations; 
 and in this equipage we present him to our readers. 
 
 Brown had parted that morning from his friend Dudley, and 
 began his solitary walk towards Scotland. 
 
 The first two or three miles were rather melancholy, from want 
 of the society to which he had of late been accustomed. But this 
 unusual mood of mind soon gave way to the influence of his 
 
136 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 natural good spirits, excited by the exercise and the bracing effects 
 of the frosty air. He. whistled as he went along, not " from want 
 of thought," but to give vent to those buoyant feelings which he 
 had no other mode of expressing. For each peasant whom he 
 chanced to meet, he had a kind greeting or a good-humoured jest : 
 the hardy Cumbrians grinned as they passed, and said, " That's a 
 kind heart, God bless un ! " and the market-girl looked more than 
 once over her shoulder at the athletic form, which corresponded so 
 well with the frank and blithe address of the stranger. A rough 
 terrier dog, his constant companion, who rivalled his master in 
 glee, scampered at large in a thousand wheels round the heath, 
 and came back to jump up on him, and assure him that he 
 participated in the pleasure of the journey. Dr. Johnson thought 
 life had few things better than the excitation produced by being 
 whirled rapidly along in a post-chaise ; but he who has in youth 
 experienced the confident and independent feeling of a stout 
 pedestrian in an interesting country, and during fine weather, will 
 hold the taste of the great moralist cheap in comparison. 
 
 Part of Brown's view in choosing that unusual tract which leads 
 through the eastern wilds of Cumberland into Scotland, had been 
 a desire to view the remains of the celehrated Roman Wall, which 
 are more visible in that direction than in any other part of its 
 extent. His education had been imperfect and desultory; but 
 neither the busy scenes in which he had been engaged, nor the 
 pleasures of youth, nor the precarious state of his own circum- 
 stances, had diverted him from the task of mental improvement. — 
 " And this,, then, is the Roman Wall," he said, scrambling up to 
 a height which commanded the course of that celebrated work 
 of antiquity : " What a people ! whose labours, even at this ex- 
 tremity of their empire, comprehended such space, and were 
 executed upon a scale of such grandeur ! In future ages, when the 
 science of war shall have changed, how few traces will exist of the 
 labours of Vauban and Coehorn, while this wonderful people's 
 remains will even then continue to interest and astonish posterity ! 
 Their fortifications, their aqueducts, their theatres, their fountains, 
 all their public works, bear the grave, solid, and majestic character 
 of their language; while our modern labours, like our modern 
 tongues, seem but constructed out of their fragments." Having 
 ihus moralized, he remembered that he was hungry, and pursued 
 his walk to a small public-house at which he proposed to get some 
 refreshment. 
 
 The alehouse, for it was no better, was situated in the bottom of 
 a little dell, through which trilled a small rivulet. It was shaded 
 by a large ash tree, against which the clay-built shed, that served 
 
GUY MANNERING. 137 
 
 the purpose of a stable, was erected, and upon which it seemed 
 partly to recline. In this shed stood a saddled horse, employed in 
 eating his corn. The cottages in this part of Cumberland partake 
 of the rudeness which characterises those of Scotland. The out- 
 side of the house promised little for the interior, notwithstanding 
 the vaunt of a sign, where a tankard of ale voluntarily decanted 
 itself into a tumbler, and a hieroglyphical scrawl below attempted 
 to express a promise of "good entertainment for man and horse." 
 Brown was no fastidious traveller — he stooped and entered the 
 cabaret.* 
 
 The first object which caught his eye in the kitchen, was a tall, 
 stout, country-looking man, in a large jockey great-coat, the owner 
 of the horse which stood in the shed, who was busy discussing 
 huge slices of cold boiled beef, and casting from time to time an 
 eye through the window, to see how his steed sped with his pro- 
 venderr A large tankard of ale flanked his plate of victuals, to 
 which he applied himself by intervals. The good woman of the 
 house was employed in baking. The fire, as is usual in that 
 country, was on a stone hearth, in the midst of an immensely large 
 chimney, which had two seats extended beneath the vent. On one 
 of these sat a remarkably tall woman, in a red cloak and slouched 
 bonnet, having the appearance of a tinker or beggar. She was 
 busily engaged with a short black tobacco-pipe. 
 
 At the request of Brown for some food, the landlady wiped with 
 her mealy apron one corner of the deal table, placed a wooden 
 trencher and knife and fork before the traveller, pointed to the 
 round of beef, recommended Mr. Dinmont's good example, and, 
 finally, filled a brown pitcher with her home-brewed. Brown lost 
 no time in doing ample credit to both. For a while, his opposite 
 neighbour and he were too busy to take much notice of each other, 
 except by a good-humoured nod as each in turn raised the tankard 
 to his head. At length, when our pedestrian began to supply the 
 wants of little Wasp, the Scotch store-farmer, for such was Mr. 
 Dinmont, found himself at leisure to enter into conversation. 
 
 "A bonny terrier that, sir — and a fell chield at the vermin, I 
 warrant him — that is, if he's been weel entered, for it a' lies in 
 that." 
 
 " Really, sir," said Brown, " his education has been somewhat 
 neglected, and his chief property is being a pleasant companion." 
 
 " Ay, sir ? — that's a pity, begging your pardon — it's a great pity 
 that — beast or body, education should aye be minded. I have six 
 terriers at hame, forbye twa couple of slow-hounds, five grews, and 
 a wheen other dogs. There's auld Pepper and auld Mustard, and 
 young Pepper and young Mustard, and little Pepper and little 
 
138 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 Mustard— I had them a' regularly entered, first wi' rottens— then 
 wi' stots or weasels — and then wi' the tods and brocks — and now 
 they fear naething that ever cam wi' a hairy skin on't." 
 
 " I have no doubt, sir, they are thorough-bred— but, to have so 
 many dogs, you seem to have a very limited variety of names for 
 them ?" 
 
 " O, that's a fancy of my ain to mark the breed, sir — The Deuke 
 himsell has sent as far as Charlies-hope to get ane o' Dandy 
 Dinmont's Pepper and Mustard terriers — Lord, man, he sent Tam 
 Hudson* the keeper, and sicken a day as we had wi' the fumarts 
 and the tods, and sicken a blythe gaedown as we had again e'en ! 
 Faith, that was a night !" 
 
 " I suppose game is very plenty with you ?" 
 
 " Plenty, man ! — I believe there's mair hares than sheep on my 
 farm ; and for the moor-fowl, or the grey fowl, they lie as thick as 
 doos in a dooket — Did you ever shoot a black-cock, man ?" 
 
 " Really I had never even the pleasure to see one, except in the 
 museum at Keswick." 
 
 " There now — I could guess that by your Southland tongue. — It's 
 very odd of these English folk that come here, how few of them 
 has seen a black-cock ! — I'll tell you what — ye seem to be an 
 honest lad, and if you'll call on me — on Dandy Dinmont — at 
 Charlies-hope — ye shall see a black-cock, and shoot a black-cock, 
 and eat a black-cock too, man." 
 
 " Why, the proof of the matter is the eating, to be sure, sir ; and 
 I shall be happy if I can find time to accept your invitation." 
 
 " Time, man ? what ails ye to gae hame wi' me the now ? How 
 d'ye travel ?" 
 
 " On foot, sir ; and if that handsome pony be yours, I should 
 find it impossible to keep up with you." 
 
 " No, unless ye can walk-up to fourteen mile an hour. But ye 
 can come ower the night as far as Riccarton, where there is a 
 public — or if ye like to stop at Jockey Grieve's at the Heuch, they 
 would be blythe to see ye, and I am just gaun to stop and drink a 
 dram at the door wi' him, and I would tell him you're coming up ; 
 — or stay — gudewife, could ye lend this gentleman the guidman's 
 galloway, and I'll send it ower the Waste in the morning wi' the 
 callant ?" 
 
 The galloway was turned out upon the fell, and was swear to 
 catch — "Aweel, aweel, there's nae help for't, but come up the 
 morn at ony rate. — And now, gudewife, I maun ride, to get to the 
 Liddel or it be dark, for your Waste has but a kittle character, ye 
 ken yoursell." 
 
 " Hout fie, Mr. Dinmont, that's no like you, to gie the country 
 
GUY MANNERING. 139 
 
 an ill name — I wot, there has been nane stirred in the Waste since 
 Sawney Culloch, the travelling-merchant, that Rowley Overdees 
 and Jock Penny suffered for at Carlisle twa years since. There's 
 no ane in Bewcastle would do the like o' that now — we be a' true 
 folk now." 
 
 " Ay, Tib, that will be when the deil's blind, — and his een's no 
 sair yet. But hear ye, gudewife, I have been through" maist feck o' 
 Galloway and Dumfries-shire, and I have been round by Carlisle, 
 and I was at the Staneshiebank fair the day, and I would like ill 
 to be rubbit sae near hame, so I'll take the gate." 
 
 " Hae ye been in Dumfries and Galloway?" said the old dame, 
 who sat smoking by the fire-side, and who had not jnst. spoken a 
 word. 
 
 " Troth, have I, gudewife, and a weary round I've had o't." 
 
 " Then ye'U maybe ken a place they ca' Ellangowan ?" 
 
 " Ellangowan, that was Mr. Bertram's ? — I ken the place weel 
 eneugh. The Laird died about a fortnight since, as I heard." 
 
 "Died !" — said the old woman, dropping her pipe, and rising 
 and coming forward upon the floor — " died ! — are you sure of 
 that ?" 
 
 " Troth, am I," said Dinmont, "for it made nae sma' noise in the 
 country-side. He died just at the roup of the stocking and furni- 
 ture; it stoppit the roup, and mony folk were disappointed. They 
 said he was the last of an auld family too, and mony were sorry — 
 for gude blude's scarcer in Scotland than it has been." 
 
 " Dead !" replied the old woman, whom our readers have already 
 recognised as their acquaintance, Meg Merrilees — " dead ! that 
 quits a' scores. And did ye say he died without an heir ?" 
 
 " Ay did he, gudewife, and the estate's sell'd by the same token ; 
 for they said, they couldna have sell'd it, if there had been an heir- 
 male." 
 
 " Sell'd !" echoed the gipsy, with something like a scream ; " and 
 wha durst buy Ellangowan that was not of Bertram's blude ?^and 
 wha could tell whether the bonny knave-bairn may not come back 
 to claim his ain? — wha durst buy the estate and the castle of 
 Ellangowan ?" 
 
 " Troth, gudewife, just ane o' thae writer chields that buys a' 
 thing — they ca' him Glossin, I think." 
 
 " Glossin !— Gibbie Glossin ! — that I have carried in my creels a 
 hundred times, for his mother wasna muckle better than mysell— 
 he to presume to buy the barony of Ellangowan ! — Gude be wi' us 
 — it is an awfu' warld ! I wished him ill — but no sic a downfa' as 
 a' that neither : wae's me ! wae's me to think o't !" — She remained 
 a moment silent, but still opposing with her hand the farmer's 
 
140 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 retreat, who, betwixt every question, was about to turn his back, 
 but good-humouredly stopped on observing the deep interest his 
 answers appeared to excite. 
 
 " It will be seen and heard of— earth and sea will not hold their 
 peace langer !— Can ye say if the same man be now the Sheriff of 
 the county that has been sae for some years past ?" 
 
 " Na, he's got some other birth in Edinburgh, they say — but 
 gude day, gudewife, I maun ride." — She followed him to his horse, 
 and, while he drew the girths of his saddle, adjusted the walise, 
 and put on the bridle, still plied him with questions concerning 
 Mr. Bertram's death, and the fate of his daughter ; on which, 
 however, she could obtain little information from the honest 
 farmer. 
 
 " Did ye ever see a place they ca' Derncleugh, about a mile frae 
 the Place of Ellangowan ? " 
 
 " I wot weel have I, gudewife, — a wild-looking den it is, wi' a 
 whin auld wa's o' shealings yonder. — I saw it when I gaed ower the 
 ground wi' ane that wanted to take the farm." 
 
 "It was a blythe bit ance !" said Meg, speaking to herself. — 
 " Did ye notice if there was an auld saugh tree that's maist blawn 
 down, but yet its roots are in the earth, and it hangs ower the bit 
 burn ? — mony a day hae I wrought my stocking, and sat on my 
 sunkie under that saugh." 
 
 " Hout, deil's i' the wife, wi' her saughs, and her sunkies, and 
 Ellangowans — Godsake, woman, let me away ;-. there's saxpence 
 t'ye to buy half a mutchkin, instead o' clavering about thae auld- 
 warld stories." 
 
 "Thanks to ye, gudeman — and now ye hae answered a' my 
 questions and never speired wherefore I asked them, I'll gie you a 
 bit canny advice, and ye manna speir what for neither. Tib 
 Mumps will be out wi' the stirrup-dram in a gliffing. — She'll ask 
 ye whether ye gang ower Willie's brae, or through Conscowthart- 
 moss ; — tell her ony ane ye like, but be sure " (speaking low and 
 emphatically) "to tak the ane ye dinna tell her." The farmer 
 laughed and promised, and the gipsy retreated. 
 
 "Will you take her advice?" said Brown, who had been an 
 attentive listener to this conversation. 
 
 " That will I no— the randy quean ! — Na, I had far rather Tib 
 Mumps kenn'd which way I was gaun than her — though Tib's no 
 muckle to lippen to neither, and I would advise ye on no account 
 to stay in the house a' night." 
 
 In a moment after, Tib, the landlady, appeared with her stirrup- 
 cup, which was taken off. She then, as Meg had predicted, in- 
 quired whether he went the hill or the moss road. He answered, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 141 
 
 the latter ; and having bid Brown good-bye, and again told him, 
 " he depended on seeing him at Charlies-hope, the morn at latest," 
 he rode off at a round pace. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " Gallows and knock are too powerful on the highway." 
 
 Winter's Tale. 
 
 The hint of the hospitable farmer was not lost on Brown. But, 
 while he paid his reckoning, he could not avoid repeatedly fixing 
 his eyes on Meg Merrilies. She was, in all respects, the same 
 witch-like figure as when we first introduced her at Ellangowan- 
 Place. Time had grizzled her raven locks, and added wrinkles to 
 her wild features, but her he'ight remained erect, and her activity 
 was unimpaired. It was remarked of this woman, as of others of 
 the same description, that a life of action, though not of labour, 
 gave her the perfect command of her limbs and figure, so that the 
 attitudes into which she most naturally threw herself, were free, 
 unconstrained, and picturesque. At present, she stood by the 
 window of the cottage, her person drawn up so as to show to full 
 advantage her masculine stature, and her head somewhat thrown 
 back, that the large bonnet, with which her face was shrouded, 
 might not interrupt her steady gaze at Brown. At every gesture 
 he made, and every tone he uttered, she seemed to give an almost 
 imperceptible start. On his part, he was surprised to find that he 
 could not look upon this singular figure without some emotion. 
 " Have I dreamed of such a figure ?" he said to himself, " or does 
 this wild and singular-looking woman recall to my recollection 
 some of the strange figures I have seen in our Indian pagodas ?" 
 
 While he embarrassed himself with these discussions, and the 
 hostess was engaged in rummaging out silver in change of half-a- 
 guinea, the gipsy suddenly made two strides, and seized Brown's 
 hand. He expected, of course, a display of her skill in palmistry, 
 but she seemed agitated by other feelings. 
 
 " Tell me," she said, " tell me, in the name of God, young man, 
 what is your name, and whence you came ?" 
 
 " My name is Brown, mother, and I come from the East Indies." 
 
 " From the East Indies ! " dropping his hand, with a sigh ; " it 
 cannot be then — I am such an auld fool, that everything I look on 
 seems the thing I want maist to see. But the East Indies ! that 
 cannot be — Weel, be what ye will, ye hae a face and a tongue that 
 puts me in mind of auld times. Good-day — make haste on your 
 
142 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 road, and if ye see ony of our folk, meddle not and make not, and 
 they'll do you nae harm." 
 
 Brown, who had by this time received his change, put a shilling 
 into her hand, bade his hostess farewell, and taking the route which 
 the farmer had gone before, walked briskly on, with the advantage 
 of being guided by the fresh hoofprints of his horse. Meg Merrilies 
 looked after him for some time, and then muttered to herself, " I 
 maun see that lad again — and I maun gang back to Ellangowan 
 too. The Laird's dead — aweel, death pays a' scores — he was a 
 kind man ance. The Sheriff's flitted, and I can keep canny in the 
 bush — so there's no muckle hazard o' scouring the cramp-ring* I 
 would like to see bonny Ellangowan again or I die." 
 
 Brown, meanwhile, proceeded northward at a round pace along 
 the moorish tract called the Waste of Cumberland. He passed a 
 solitary house, towards which the horseman who preceded him had 
 apparently turned up, for his horse's tread was evident in that 
 direction. A little farther, he seemed to have returned again into 
 the road. Mr. Dinmont had probably made a visit there either of 
 business or pleasure. I wish, thought Brown, the good farmer had 
 staid till I came up ; I should not have been sorry to ask him a 
 few questions about the road, which seems to grow wilder and 
 wilder. 
 
 In truth, nature, as if she had designed this tract of country to be 
 the barrier between two hostile nations, has stamped upon it a 
 character of wildness and desolation. The hills are neither high 
 nor rocky, but the land is all heath and morass ; the huts poor and 
 mean, and at a great distance from each other. Immediately 
 around them there is generally some little attempt at cultivation ; 
 but a half-bred foal or two, straggling about with shackles on their 
 hind legs, to save the trouble of enclosures, intimate the farmer's 
 chief resource to be the breeding of horses. The people, too, are 
 of a ruder and more inhospitable class than are elsewhere to be 
 found in Cumberland, arising partly from their own habits, partly 
 from their intermixture with vagrants and criminals, who make this 
 wild country a refuge from justice. So much were the men of these 
 districts in early times the objects of suspicion and dislike to their 
 more polished neighbours, that there was, and perhaps still exists, 
 a by-law of the corporation of Newcastle, prohibiting any freeman 
 of that city to take for apprentice a native of certain of these dales. 
 It is pithily said, " Give a dog an ill name and hang him ; " and it 
 may be added, if you give a man, or race of men, an ill name, they 
 are very likely to do something that deserves hanging. Of this 
 Brown had heard something, and suspected more, from the dis- 
 course between the landlady, Dinmont, and the gipsy ; but he was 
 
GUY MANNERING. l43 
 
 naturally of a fearless disposition, had nothing about him that 
 could tempt the spoiler, and trusted to get through the Waste with 
 day-light. In this last particular, however, he was likely to be dis- 
 appointed. The way proved longer than he had anticipated, and 
 the horizon began to grow gloomy, just as he entered upon an ex- 
 tensive morass. 
 
 Choosing his steps with care and deliberation, the young officer 
 proceeded along a path that sometimes sunk between two broken 
 black banks of moss earth, sometimes crossed narrow but deep 
 ravines filled with a consistence between mud and water, and some- 
 times along heaps of gravel and stones, which had been swept 
 together when some torrent or water-spout from the neighbouring 
 hills overflowed the rrjarshy ground below. He began to ponder 
 how a horseman could make his way through such broken ground; 
 the traces of hoofs, however, were still visible ; he even thought he 
 heard their sound at some distance, and, convinced that Mr. Din- 
 mont's progress through the morass must be still slower than his 
 own, he resolved to push on, in hopes to overtake him, and have the 
 benefit of his knowledge of the country. At this moment his little 
 terrier sprung forward, barking most furiously. 
 
 Brown quickened his pace, and, attaining the summit of a small 
 rising ground, saw the subject of the dog's alarm. In a hollow, 
 about a gunshot below him, a man, whom he easily recognised to 
 be Dinmont, was engaged with two others in a desperate struggle. 
 He was dismounted, and defending himself as he best could with the 
 butt of his heavy whip. Our traveller hastened on to his assistance, 
 but, ere he could get up, a stroke had levelled the farmer with the 
 earth, and one of the robbers, improving his victory, struck him 
 some merciless blows on the head. The other villain, hastening to 
 meet Brown, called to his companion to come along, "for that 
 one's content" meaning, probably, past resistance or complaint. 
 One ruffian was armed with a cutlass, the other with a bludgeon ; 
 but as the road was pretty narrow, " bar fire-arms," thought Brown, 
 '-' and I may manage them well enough." — They met accordingly, 
 with the most murderous threats on the part of the ruffians. They 
 soon found, however, that their new opponent was equally stout and 
 resolute ; and, after exchanging two or three blows, one of them 
 told him to " follow his nose over the heath, in the devil's name, 
 for they had nothing to say to him." 
 
 Brown rejected this composition, as leaving to their mercy the 
 unfortunate man whom they were about to pillage, if not to murder 
 outright ; and the skirmish had just recommenced, when Dinmont 
 unexpectedly recovered his senses, his feet, and his weapon, and 
 hasted to the scene of action. As he had been no easy antagonist, 
 
144 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 even when surprised and alone, the villains did not choose to wait 
 his joining forces with a man who had singly proved a match for 
 them both, but fled across the bog as fast as their feet could carry 
 them, pursued by Wasp, who had acted gloriously during the skir- 
 mish, annoying the heels of the enemy, and repeatedly effecting a 
 moment's diversion in his master's favour. 
 
 " Deil, but your dog's weel entered wi' the vermin now, sir ! " 
 were the first words uttered by the jolly farmer, as he came up, his 
 head streaming with blood, and recognised his deliverer and his 
 little attendant. 
 
 " I hope, sir, you are not hurt dangerously?" ^ 
 
 " O, deil a bit — my head can stand a gay clour — nae thanks to 
 them, though, and mony to you. But now, hinney, ye maun help 
 me to catch' the beast, and ye maun get on behind me, for we maun 
 off like whittrets before the whole clanjamfray be doun upon us — 
 the rest o' them will no be far off." The galloway was, by good for- 
 tune, easily caught, and Brown made some apology for overloading 
 the animal. 
 
 " Deil a fear, man," answered the proprietor ; " Dumple could 
 carry six folk, if his back was lang eneugh — but God's sake, haste 
 ye, get on, for I see some folk coming through the slack yonder, that 
 it may be just as weel no to wait for." 
 
 Brown was of opinion that this apparition of five or six men, with 
 whom the other villains seemed to join company, coming across 
 the moss towards them, should abridge ceremony ; he therefore 
 mounted Dumple en croupe, and the little spirited 'nag cantered 
 away with two men of great size and strength, as if they had been 
 children of six years old. The rider, to whom the paths of these 
 wilds seemed intimately known, pushed on at a rapid pace, manag- 
 ing, with much dexterity, to choose the safest route, in which he 
 was aided by the sagacity of the galloway, who never failed to take 
 the difficult passes exactly at the particular spot, and in the special 
 manner, by which they could be most safely crossed. Yet, even, 
 with these advantages, the road was so broken, and they were so 
 often thrown out of the direct course by various impediments, that 
 they did not gain much on their pursuers. " Never mind," said the 
 undaunted Scotchman to his companion, " if we were ance by 
 Withershin's latch, the road's no near sae soft, and we'll show them 
 fair play fort." 
 
 They soon came to the place he named, a narrow channel, through 
 which soaked, rather than flowed, a small stagnant stream, mantled 
 over with bright green mosses. Dinmont directed his steed towards 
 a pass where the water appeared to flow with more freedom over a 
 harder bottom ; but Dumple backed from the proposed crossing- 
 
^ 
 
GUY MANNERING. 145 
 
 place, put his head down as if to reconnoitre the swamp more 
 nearly, stretching forward his fore-feet, and stood as fast as if he 
 had been cut out of stone. 
 
 " Had we not better," said Brown, " dismount, and leave him to 
 his fate ? — or can you not urge him through the swamp ? " 
 
 " Na, na," said his pilot, " we maun cross Dumple at no rate — he 
 has mair sense than mony a Christian." So saying, he relaxed the 
 reins, and shook them loosely. " Come now, lad, take your ain 
 way o't — let's see where ye'll take us through." 
 
 Dumple, left to the freedom of his own will, trotted briskly to 
 another part of the latch, less promising, as Brown thought, in 
 appearance, but which-the animal's sagacity or experience recom- 
 mended as the safer of the two, and where, plunging in, he attained 
 the other side with little difficulty. 
 
 " I'm glad we're out o' that moss," said Dinmont, "where there's 
 mair stables for horses than change-houses for men — we have the 
 Maiden-way to help us now, at ony rate." Accordingly, they 
 speedily gained a sort of rugged causeway so called, being the re- 
 mains of an old Roman road, which traverses these wild regions in 
 a due northerly direction. Here they got on at the rate of nine or 
 ten miles an hour, Dumple seeking no other respite than what arose 
 from changing his pace from canter to trot. " I could gar him show 
 mair action," said his master, " but we are twa lang-legged chields 
 after a', and it would be a pity to stress Dumple — there wasna the 
 like o' him at Staneshiebank fair the <?ay." 
 
 Brown readily assented to the propriety of sparing the horse, and 
 added, that as they were now far out of the reach of the rogues, he 
 thought Mr. Dinmont had better tie a handkerchief round his head, 
 for fear of the cold frosty air aggravating the wound. 
 
 " What would I do that for ? " answered the hardy farmer ; " the 
 best way's to let the blood barken upon the cut — that saves plasters, 
 hinney." 
 
 Brown, who in his military profession had seen a great many 
 hard blows pass, could not help remarking, " he had never known 
 such severe strokes received with so much apparent indifference." 
 
 "Hout tout, man — I would never be making a hum-dudgeon 
 about a scart on the pow — but we'll be in Scotland in five minutes 
 now, and ye maun gang up to Charlies-hope wi' me, that's a clear 
 case." 
 
 Brown readily accepted the offered hospitality. Night was now 
 falling, when they came in sight of a pretty river winding its way 
 through a pastoral country. The hills were greener and more abrupt 
 than those which Brown had lately passed, sinking their grassy 
 sides at once upon the river. They had no pretensions to magni- 
 
 K 
 
146 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 ficence of height, or to romantic shapes, nor did their smooth 
 swelling slopes exhibit either rocks or woods. Yet the view was 
 wild, solitary, and pleasingly rural. No enclosures, no roads, 
 almost no tillage— it seemed a land in which a patriarch would 
 have chosen to feed his flocks and herds. The remains of here 
 and there a dismantled and ruined tower, showed that it had once 
 harboured beings of a very different description from its present 
 inhabitants ; those freebooters, namely, to whose exploits the wars 
 between England and Scotland bear witness. 
 
 Descending by a path towards a well-known ford, Dumple 
 crossed the small river, and then quickening his pace, trotted about 
 a mile briskly up its" banks, and approached two or three low 
 thatched houses, placed with their angles to each other, with a 
 great contempt of regularity. This was the farm-steading of Char- 
 lies-hope, or, in the language of the country, " the Toun." A most 
 furious barking was set up at their approach, by the whole three 
 generations of Mustard and Pepper, and a number of allies, names 
 unknown. The farmer made his well-known voice lustily heard to 
 restore order — the door opened, and a half-dressed ewe-milker, who 
 had done that good office, shut it in their faces, in order that she 
 might run ben the house, to cry " Mistress, mistress, it's the master, 
 and another man wi' him." Dumple, turned loose, walked to his 
 own stable-door, and there pawed and whinnied for admission, in 
 strains which were answered by his acquaintances from the interior. 
 Amid this bustle, Brown was fain to secure Wasp from the other 
 dogs, who, with ardour corresponding more to their own names than 
 to the hospitable temper of their owner, were much disposed to use 
 the intruder roughly. 
 
 In about a minute a stout labourer was patting Dumple, and in- 
 troducing him into the stable, while Mrs. Dinmont, a well-favoured 
 buxom dame, welcomed her husband* with unfeigned rapture, " £i^ 
 sirs ! gudeman, ye hae been a weary while awa ! ' 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Liddel till now, except in Doric lays, 
 Tuned to her murmurs by her love-sick swains, 
 Unknown in song — though not a purer stream 
 Rolls towards the western main. 
 
 Art of Preserving Health. 
 
 The present store-farmers of the south of Scotland are a much 
 more refined race than their fathers, and the manners I am now to 
 describe have either altogether disappeared, or are greatly modi- 
 
GUY MANNERING. i 47 
 
 fied. Without losing the rural simplicity of manners, they now 
 cultivate arts unknown to the former generation, not only in the pro- 
 gressive improvement of their possessions, but in all the comforts 
 of life. Their houses are more commodious, their habits of life 
 regulated so as better to keep pace with those of the civilized 
 world; and the best of luxuries, the luxury of knowledge, has 
 gained much ground among their hills during the last thirty years. 
 Deep drinking, formerly their greatest failing, is now fast losing 
 ground ; and, while the frankness of their extensive hospitality 
 continues the same, it is, generally speaking, refined in its cha- 
 racter, and restrained in its excesses. 
 
 " Deil's in the wife," said Dandie Dinmont, shaking off his 
 spouse's embrace, but gently and with a look of great affection ; 
 " deil's in ye, Ailie — d'ye no see the stranger gentleman ? " 
 
 Ailie turned to make her apology — " Troth, I was sae weel pleased 
 
 to see the gudeman, that But, gude gracious ! what's the matter 
 
 wi' ye baith ? " — for they were now in her little parlour, and the 
 candle showed the streaks of blood which Dinmont's wounded 
 head had plentifully imparted to the clothes of his companion as 
 well as to his own. " Ye've been fighting again, Dandy, wi' some 
 o' the Bewcastle horse-coupers ! Wow, man, a married man, wi' a 
 bonny family like yours, should ken better what a father's life's 
 worth in the warld." — The tears stood in the good woman's eyes as 
 she spoke. 
 
 "Whisht ! whisht, gudewife ! " said her husband, with a smack that 
 had much more affection than ceremony in it ; — " never mind — 
 never mind — there's a gentleman that will tell you, that just when I 
 had ga'en up to Lourie Lowther's and had bidden the drinking of 
 twa cheerers, and gotten just in again upon the moss, and was whig- 
 ging cannily awa hame, twa land loupers jumpit out of a peat-hag 
 on me or I was thinking, and got me down, and knevelled me sair 
 aneuch, or I could gar my whip walk about their lugs ; — and troth, 
 gudewife, if this honest gentleman hadna come up, I would have 
 gotten mair licks than I like, and lost mair siller than I could weel 
 spare ; so ye maun be thankful to him for it, under God." With 
 that he drew from his side-pocket a large greasy leather pocket- 
 book, and bade the gudewife lock it up in her kist. 
 
 " God bless the gentleman, and e'en God bless him wi' a my 
 heart ! — but what can we do for him, but to gie him the meat and 
 quarters we wadna refuse to the poorest body on earth — unless " 
 (her eye directed to the pocket-book, but with a feeling of natural 
 propriety which made the inference the most delicate possible) 
 
 " unless there was ony other way " Brown saw, and estimated at 
 
 its due rate, the mixture of simplicity and grateful generosity which 
 
i 4 8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 took the downright way of expressing itself, yet qualified with so 
 much delicacy ; he was aware his own appearance, plain at best, 
 and now torn and spattered with blood, made him an object of pity 
 at least, and perhaps of charity. He hastened to say his name was 
 
 Brown, a captain in the regiment of cavalry, travelling for 
 
 pleasure, and on foot, both from motives of independence and 
 economy ; and he begged his kind landlady would look at her hus- 
 band's wounds, the state of which he had refused to permit him to 
 examine. Mrs. Dinmont was used to her husband's broken heads 
 more than to the presence of a captain of dragoons. She therefore 
 glanced at a table-cloth, not quite clean, and conned over her pro- 
 posed supper a minute or two, before, patting her husband on the 
 shoulder, she bade him sit down for " a hard-headed loon, that was 
 aye bringing himsell and other folk into collie-shangies." 
 
 When Dandie Dinmont, after executing two or three caprioles, 
 and cutting the Highland-fling, by way of ridicule of his wife's 
 anxiety, at last deigned to sit down, and commit his round, black, 
 shaggy bullet of a head to her inspection, Brown thought he had 
 seen the regimental surgeon look grave upon a more trifling case. 
 The gudewife, however, showed some knowledge of chirurgery — 
 she cut away with her scissors the gory locks, whose stiffened and 
 coagulated clusters interfered with her operations, and clapped on 
 the wound some lint besmeared with a vulnerary salve, esteemed 
 sovereign by the whole dale (which afforded upon Fair nights con- 
 siderable experience of such cases) — she then fixed her plaster with 
 a bandage, and, spite of her patient's resistance, pulled over all a 
 night-cap, to keep everything in its right place. Some contusions 
 on the brow and shoulders she fomented with brandy, which the 
 patient did not permit till the medicine had paid a heavy toll to his 
 mouth. Mrs. Dinmont then simply, but kindly, offered her assist- 
 ance to Brown. 
 
 He assured her he had no occasion for anything but the accom- 
 modation of a basin and towel. 
 
 " And that's what I should have thought of sooner,'' she said ; 
 " and I did think o't, but I durst na open the door, for there's a' the 
 bairns, poor things, sae keen to see their father." 
 
 This explained a great drumming and whining at the door of the 
 little parlour, which had somewhat surprised Brown, though his 
 kind landlady had only noticed it by fastening the bolt as soon as 
 she heard it begin. But on her opening the door to seek the basin 
 and towel (for she never thought of showing the guest to a separate 
 room), a whole tide of white-headed urchins streamed in, some 
 from the stable, where they had been seeing Dumple, and givir{ 
 him a welcome home with part of their four-hours scones ; others 
 
GUY MANNERING. i 49 
 
 from the kitchen, where they had been listening to auld Elspeth's 
 tales and ballads ; and the youngest, half-naked, out of bed, all 
 roaring to see daddy, and to inquire what he had brought home for 
 them from the various fairs he had visited in his peregrinations. 
 Our knight of the broken head first kissed and hugged them all 
 round, then distributed whistles, penny trumpets, and gingerbread ; 
 and, lastly, when the tumult of their joy and welcome got beyond 
 bearing, exclaimed to his guest — " This is a' the gudewife's fault, 
 Captain — she will gie the bairns a' their ain way." 
 
 " Me ! Lord help me ! " said Ailie, who at that instant entered 
 with the basin and ewer, " how can I help it ? — I have naething else 
 to gie them, poor things ! " 
 
 Dinmont then exerted himself, and, between coaxing, threats, and 
 shoving, cleared the room of all the intruders, excepting a boy and 
 girl, the two eldest of the family, who could, as he observed, behave 
 themselves " distinctly." For the same reason, but with less cere- 
 mony, all the dogs were kicked out, excepting the venerable patri- 
 archs, old Pepper and Mustard, whom frequent castigation and the 
 advance of years had inspired with such a share of passive hospi- 
 tality, that, after mutual explanation and remonstrance in the shape 
 of some growling, they admitted Wasp, who had hitherto judged it 
 safe to keep beneath his master's chair, to a share of a dried wed- 
 der's skin, which, with the wool uppermost and unshorn, served all 
 the purposes of a Bristol hearth-rug. 
 
 The active bustle of the mistress (so she was called in the kitchen, 
 and the gudewife in the parlour) had already signed the fate of a 
 couple of fowls, which, for want of time to dress them otherwise, 
 soon appeared reeking from the gridiron — or brander, as Mrs. 
 Dinmont denominated it. A huge piece of cold beef-ham, eggs, 
 butter, cakes, and barley-meal bannocks in plenty, made up the 
 entertainment, which was to be diluted with home-brewed ale of 
 excellent quality, and a case-bottle of brandy. Few soldiers would 
 find fault with such cheer after a day's hard exercise, and a skirmish 
 to boot ; accordingly Brown did great honour to the eatables. While 
 the gudewife partly aided, partly instructed, a great stout servant 
 girl, with cheeks as red as her top-knot, to remove the supper 
 matters, and supply sugar and hot water (which, in the damsel's 
 anxiety to gaze upon an actual live captain, she was in some danger 
 of forgetting), Brown took an opportunity to ask his host whether 
 he did not repent of having neglected the gipsy's hint. 
 
 " Wha kens ? " answered he ; "they're queer deevils ;— maybe I 
 might just have 'scaped ae gang to meet the other. And yet I'll no 
 say that neither ; for if that randy wife was coming to Charlies- 
 hope, she should have a pint bottle o' brandy and a po:.ind o' 
 
ISO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 tobacco to wear Tier through the winter. They're queer deevils ; as 
 my auld father' used to say— they're warst where they're warst 
 guided. After a', there's baith gude and ill about the gipsies." 
 
 This, and some other desultory conversation, served as a "shoeing- 
 horn " to draw on another cup of ale and another cheerer, as Din- 
 mont termed it in his country phrase, of brandy and water. Brown 
 then resolutely declined all farther conviviality for that evening, 
 pleading his own weariness and the effects of the skirmish, — being 
 well aware that it would have availed nothing to have remonstrated 
 with his host on the danger that excess might have occasioned to 
 his own raw wound and bloody coxcomb. A very small bed-room, 
 but a very clean bed, received the traveller, and the sheets made 
 good the courteous vaunt of the hostess, " that they would be as 
 pleasant as he could find ony gate, for they were washed wi' the 
 fairy-well water, and bleached on the bonny white gowans, and 
 bittled by Nelly and hersell ; and what could woman, if she was a 
 queen, do mair for them ? " 
 
 They indeed rivalled snow in whiteness, and had, besides, a plea- 
 sant fragrance from the manner in which they had been bleached. 
 Little Wasp, after licking his master's hand to ask leave, couched 
 himself on the coverlet at his feet ; and the traveller's senses were 
 soon lost in grateful oblivion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ■ Give, ye Britons, then, 
 
 Your sportive fury, pitiless, to pour 
 Loose on the nightly robber of the fold. 
 Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearth'd, 
 Let all the thunder of the chase pursue. 
 
 Thomson's Seasons. 
 
 Brown rose early in the morning, and walked out to look at the 
 establishment of his new friend. All was rough and neglected in 
 the neighbourhood of the house ; — a paltry garden, no pains taken 
 to make the vicinity dry or comfortable, and a total absence of all 
 those little neatnesses which give the eye so much pleasure in look- 
 ing at an English farm-house. There were, notwithstanding, evi- 
 dent signs that this arose only from want of taste, or ignorance, 
 not from poverty, or the negligence which attends it. On the con- 
 trary, a noble cow-house, well filled with good milk-cows, a feeding- 
 house, with ten bullocks of the most approved breed, a stable, with 
 two good teams of horses, the appearance of domestics, active, 
 industrious, and apparently contented with their lot ; in a word, an 
 
GUY MANNERING. 1JI 
 
 air of liberal though sluttish plenty indicated the wealthy farmer. 
 The situation of the house above the river formed a gentle declivity, 
 which relieved the inhabitants of the nuisances that might other- 
 wise have stagnated around it. At a little distance was the whole 
 band of children, playing and building houses with peats around a 
 huge doddered oak-tree, which was called Charlie's-Bush, from 
 some tradition respecting an old freebooter who had once inhabited 
 the spot. Between the farm-house, and the hill pasture was a deep 
 morass, termed in that country a slack — it had once been the 
 defence of a fortalice, of which no vestiges now remained, but which 
 was said to have been inhabited by the same doughty hero we have 
 now alluded to. Brown endeavoured to make some acquaintance 
 with the children ; but " the rogues fled from him like quicksilver," 
 — though the two eldest stood peeping when they had got to some 
 distance. The traveller then turned his course towards the hill, 
 crossing the foresaid swamp by a range of stepping-stones, neither 
 the broadest nor steadiest that could be imagined. He had not 
 climbed far up the hill when he met a man descending. 
 
 He soon recognised his worthy host, though a maud, as it is 
 called, or a grey shepherd's-plaid, supplied his travelling jockey- 
 coat, and a cap, faced with wild-cat's fur, more commodiously 
 covered his bandaged head than a hat would have done. As he 
 appeared through the morning mist, Brown, accustomed to judge 
 of men by their thewes and sinews, could not help admiring his 
 height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the steady firmness of his 
 step. Dinmont internally paid the same compliment to Brown, 
 whose athletic form he now perused somewhat more at leisure than 
 he had done formerly. After the usual greetings of the morning, 
 the guest inquired whether his host found any inconvenient conse- 
 quences from the last night's affray. 
 
 " I had maist forgotten't," said the hardy Borderer ; " but I think 
 this morning, now that I am fresh and sober, if you and I were at 
 the Withershins' Latch, wi' ilka ane a gude oak souple in his hand, 
 we wadna turn back, no for half a dizzen o' yon scaff-raff." 
 
 " But are you prudent, my good sir," said Brown, " not to take 
 an hour or two's repose after receiving such severe contusions?" 
 
 " Confusions ! " replied the farmer, laughing in derision ; " Lord, 
 Captain, naething confuses my head — I ance jumped up and laid 
 the dogs on the fox after I had tumbled from the tap o' Christen- 
 bury Craig, and that might have confused me to purpose. Na, 
 naething confuses me, unless it be a screed o' drink at an orra 
 time. Besides, I behooved to be round the hirsel this morning, and 
 see how the herds were coming on — they're apt to be negligent wi' 
 their foot-balls, and fairs, and trysts, when ane's away. And there 
 
152 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 I met wi' Tam o' Todshaw, and a wheen o' the rest o' the billies on 
 the water side ; they're a' for a fox-hunt this morning — ye'll gang ? 
 I'll gie ye Dumple, and take the brood mare mysell." 
 
 " But I fear I must leave you this morning, Mr. Dinmont," re- 
 plied Brown. 
 
 " The fient a bit o' that," exclaimed the Borderer, — " I'll no part 
 wi' ye at ony rate for a fortnight mair — Na, na ; we dinna meet sic 
 friends as you on a Bewcastle moss every night." 
 
 Brown had not designed his journey should be a speedy one ; he 
 therefore readily compounded with this hearty invitation, by agree- 
 ing to pass a week at Charlies -hope. 
 
 On their return to the house, where the good-wife presided over 
 an ample breakfast, she heard news of the proposed fox-hunt, not 
 indeed with approbation, but without alarm or surprise. " Dand ! 
 ye're the auld man — naething will mak ye take warning till ye're 
 brought hame some day wi' your feet foremost." 
 
 " Tut, lass ! " answered Dandie, " ye ken yoursell I am never a 
 prin the waur o' my rambles." 
 
 So saying, he exhorted Brown to be hasty in dispatching his 
 breakfast, as, the " frost having given way, the scent would lie this 
 morning primely." 
 
 Out they sallied accordingly for Otterscope-scaurs, the farmer 
 leading the way. They soon quitted the little valley, and involved 
 themselves among hills as steep as they could be without being pre- 
 cipitous. The sides often presented gullies, down which, in the 
 wiriter season, or after heavy rain, the torrents descended with great 
 fury. Some dappled mists still floated along the peaks of the hills, 
 the remains of the morning clouds, for the frost had broken up with 
 a smart shower. Through these fleecy screens were seen a hundred 
 little temporary streamlets or rills, descending the sides of the 
 mountains like silver threads. By small sheep-tracks along these 
 steeps, over which Dinmont trotted with the most fearless confi- 
 dence, they at length drew near the scene of sport, and began to see 
 other men, both on horse and foot, making toward the place of 
 rendezvous. Brown was puzzling himself to conceive how a fox- 
 chase could take place among hills where it was barely pos- 
 sible for a pony, accustomed to the ground, to trot along, but 
 where quitting the track for half a yard's breadth, the rider might 
 be either bogged, or precipitated down the bank. This wonder was 
 not diminished when he came to the place of action. 
 
 They had gradually ascended very high, and now found them- 
 selves on a mountain-ridge overhanging a glen of great depth, but 
 extremely narrow. Here the sportsmen had collected, with an 
 apparatus which would have shocked a member of the Pychely 
 
GUY MANNERING. 153 
 
 Hunt ; for, the object being the removal of a noxious and destruc- 
 tive animal, as well as the pleasures of the chase, poor Reynard 
 was allowed much less fair play than when pursued in form through 
 an open country. The strength of his habitation, however, and the 
 nature of the ground by which it was surrounded on all sides, sup- 
 plied what was wanting in the courtesy of his pursuers. The sides 
 of the glen were broken banks of earth, and rocks of rotten stone, 
 which sunk sheer down to the little winding stream below, afford- 
 ing here and there a tuft of scathed brushwood, or a patch of 
 furze. Along the edges of this ravine, which, as we have said, was 
 very narrow, but of profound depth, the hunters on horse and foot 
 ranged themselves ; almost every farmer had with him at least a 
 brace of large and fierce greyhounds, of the race of those deer-dogs 
 which were formerly used in that country, but greatly lessened in 
 size from being crossed with the common breed. The huntsman, a 
 sort of provincial officer of the district, who receives a certain sup- 
 ply of meal, and a reward for every fox he destroys, was already at 
 the bottom of the dell, whose echoes thundered to the chiding of 
 two or three brace of fox-hounds. Terriers, including the whole 
 generation of Pepper and Mustard, were also in attendance, having 
 been sent forward under the care of a shepherd. Mongrel, whelp, 
 and cur of low degree, filled up the burden of the chorus. The 
 spectators on the brink of the ravine, or glen, held their greyhounds 
 in leash in readiness to slip them at the fox, as soon as the activity 
 of the party below should force him to abandon his cover. 
 
 The scene, though uncouth to the eye of a professed sportsman, 
 had something in it wildly captivating. The shifting figures on the 
 mountain ridge, having the sky for their back-ground, appeared to 
 move in the air. The dogs, impatient of their restraint, and mad- 
 dened with the baying beneath, sprung here and there, and strained 
 at the slips which prevented them from joining their companions. 
 Looking down, the view was equally striking. The thin mists were 
 not totally dispersed in the glen, so that it was often through their 
 gauzy medium that the eye strove to discover the motions of the 
 hunters below. Sometimes a breath of wind made the scene visible, 
 the blue rill glittering as it twined itself through its rude and solitary 
 dell. They then could see the shepherds springing with fearless 
 activity from one dangerous point to another, and cheering the 
 dogs on the scent, the whole so diminished by depth and distance, 
 that they looked like pigmies. Again the mists close over them, 
 and the only signs of their continued exertions are the halloos of 
 the men, and the clamours of the hounds, ascending as it were out 
 of the bowels of the earth. When the fox, thus persecuted from 
 one stronghold to another, was at length obliged to abandon his 
 
IJ.} GUY MANNERING. 
 
 valley, and to break away for a more distant retreat, those who 
 watched his motions from the top slipped their greyhounds, which, 
 excelling the fox in swiftness, and equalling him in ferocity and 
 spirit, soon brought the plunderer to his life's end. 
 
 In this way, without any attention to the ordinary rules and 
 decorums of sport, but apparently as much to the gratification both 
 of bipeds and quadrupeds as if all due ritual had been followed, four 
 foxes were killed on this active morning ; and even Brown himself, 
 though he had seen the princely sports of India, and ridden a-tiger- 
 hunting upon an elephant with the Nabob of Arcot, professed to 
 have received an excellent morning's amusement. When the sport 
 was given up for the day, most of the sportsmen, according to the 
 established hospitality of the country, went to dine at Charlies- 
 hope. 
 
 During their return homeward, Brown rode for a short time beside 
 the huntsman, and asked him some questions concerning the mode 
 in which he exercised his profession. The man showed an un- 
 willingness to meet his eye, and a disposition to be rid of his 
 company and conversation, for which Brown could not easily 
 account. He was a thin, dark, active fellow, well framed for the 
 hardy profession which he exercised. But his face had not the 
 frankness of the jolly hunter ; he was down-looked, embarrassed, 
 and avoided the eyes of those who looked hard at him. After some 
 unimportant observations on the success of the day, Brown gave 
 him a trifling gratuity, and rode on with his landlord. They found 
 the gudewife prepared for their reception — the fold and the poultry- 
 yard furnished the entertainment, and the kind and hearty welcome 
 made amends for all deficiencies in elegance and fashion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The Elliots and Armstrongs did convene, 
 They were -a gallant company ! 
 
 Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong. 
 
 Without noticing the occupations of an intervening day or two, 
 which, as they consisted of the ordinary silvan amusements of 
 shooting and coursing, have nothing sufficiently interesting to detain 
 the reader, we pass to one in some degree peculiar to Scotland, which 
 may be called a sort of salmon-hunting. This chase, in which the 
 fish is pursued and struck with barbed spears, or a sort of long 
 shafted trident, called a waster* is much practised at the mouth of 
 the Esk, and in the other salmon rivers of Scotland. The sport is 
 followed by day and night, but most commonly in the latter, when 
 
GUY MANNERING. 155 
 
 the fish are discovered by means of torches, or fire-grates, filled 
 with blazing fragments of tar-barrels, which shed a strong though 
 partial light upon the water. On the present occasion, the principal 
 party were embarked in a crazy boat upon a part of the river which 
 was enlarged and deepened by the restraint of a mill-wear, while 
 others, like the ancient Bacchanals in their gambols, ran along the 
 banks, brandishing their torches and spears, and pursuing the 
 salmon, some of which endeavoured to escape up the stream, while 
 others, shrouding themselves under roots of trees, fragments of 
 stones, and large rocks, attempted to conceal themselves from the 
 researches of the fishermen. These the party in the boat detected 
 by the slightest indications ; the twinkling of a fin, the rising of an 
 air-bell, was sufficient to point out to these adroit sportsmen in what 
 direction to use their weapon. 
 
 The scene was inexpressibly animating to those accustomed to 
 it ; but as Brown was not practised to use the spear, he soon tired 
 of making efforts which were attended with no other consequences 
 than jarring his arms against the rocks at the bottom of the river, 
 upon which, instead of the devoted salmon, he often bestowed his 
 blows. Nor did he relish, though he concealed feelings which 
 would not have been understood, being quite so near the agonies of 
 the expiring salmon, as they lay flapping about in the boat, which 
 they moistened with their blood. He therefore requested to be put 
 ashore, and, from the top of a heugh or broken bank, enjoyed the 
 scene much more to his. satisfaction. Often he thought of his 
 friend Dudley the artist, when he observed the effect produced by 
 the strong red glare on the romantic banks under which the boat 
 glided. Now the light diminished to a distant star that seemed to 
 twinkle on the waters, like those which, according to the legends of 
 the country, the water-kelpy sends for the purpose of indicating the 
 watery grave of his victims. Then it advanced nearer, brightening 
 and enlarging as it again approached, till the broad flickering flame 
 rendered bank, and rock, and tree, visible as it passed, tinging them 
 with its own red glare of dusky light, and resigning them gradually 
 to darkness, or to pale moonlight, as it receded. By this light also 
 were seen the figures in the boat, now holding high their weapons, 
 now stooping to strike, now standing upright, bronzed by the same 
 red glare, into a colour which might have befitted the regions of 
 Pandemonium. 
 
 Having amused himself for some time with these effects of light 
 and shadow, Brown strolled homewards towards the farm-house, 
 gazing in his way at the persons engaged in the Sport, two or three 
 of whom are generally kept together, one holding the torch, the 
 others with their spears, ready to avail themselves of the light it 
 
IS6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 affords to strike their prey. As he observed one man struggling 
 with a very weighty salmon which he had speared but was unable 
 completely to raise from the water, Brown advanced close to the 
 bank to see the issue of his exertions. The man who held the 
 torch in this instance was the huntsman, whose sulky demeanour 
 Brown had already noticed with surprise. — " Come here, sir ! come 
 here, sir ! look at this ane ! He turns up a side like a sow." — Such 
 was the cry from the assistants when some of them observed 
 Brown advancing. 
 
 " Ground the waster weel, man ! ground the waster weel ! — haud 
 him down — ye haena the pith o' a cat ! " — were the cries of advice, 
 encouragement, and expostulation, from those who were on the bank, 
 to the sportsman engaged with the salmon, who stood up to his 
 middle in water, jingling among broken ice, struggling against the 
 force of the fish and the strength of the current, and dubious in 
 what manner he should attempt to secure his booty. As Brown 
 came to the edge of the bank, he called out — " Hold up your torch, 
 friend huntsman ! " for he had already distinguished his dusky 
 features by the strong light cast upon them by the blaze. But the 
 fellow no sooner heard his voice, and saw, or rather concluded, it 
 was Brown who approached him, than, instead of advancing his 
 light, he let it drop, as if accidentally, into the water. 
 
 " The deil's in Gabriel ! " said the spearman, as the fragments of 
 glowing wood floated half-blazing, half-sparkling, but soon extin- 
 guished, down the stream — " the deil's in the man !— I'll never 
 master him without the light — and a braver kipper, could I but 
 land him, — never reisted abune a pair o' cleeks." * Some dashed 
 into the water to lend their assistance, and the fish, which was after- 
 wards found to weigh nearly thirty pounds, was landed in safety. 
 
 The behaviour of the huntsman struck Brown, although he had 
 no recollection of his face, nor could conceive why he should, as it 
 appeared he evidently did, shun his observation. Could he be one 
 of the footpads he encountered a few days before ? — The supposi- 
 tion was not altogether improbable, although unwarranted by any 
 observation he was able to make upon the man's figure and face. 
 To be sure, the villains wore their hats much slouched, and had 
 loose coats, and their size was not in any way so peculiarly discri- 
 minated as to enable him to resort to that criterioh. He resolved 
 to speak to his host Dinmpnt on the subject, but for obvious 
 reasons concluded it were best to defer the explanation until a cool 
 hour in- the morning. 
 
 The sportsmen returned loaded with fish, upwards of one hun- 
 dred salmon having been killed within the range of their sport. 
 The best were selected for the use of the principal farmers, the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 157 
 
 others divided among their shepherds, cottars, dependents, and 
 others of inferior rank who attended. These fish, dried in the turf 
 smoke of their cabins, or shealings, formed a savoury addition to 
 the mess of potatoes, mixed with onions, which was the principal 
 part of their winter food. In the meanwhile a liberal distribution 
 of ale and whisky was made among them, besides what was called 
 a kettle of fish, — two or three salmon, namely, plunged into a caul- 
 dron, and boiled for their supper. Brown accompanied his jolly 
 landlord and the rest of his friends into the large and smoky 
 kitchen, where this savoury mess reeked on an oaken table, mas- 
 sive enough to have dined Johnnie Armstrong and his merry-men. 
 All was hearty cheer and huzza, and jest and clamorous laughter, 
 and bragging alternately, and raillery between whiles. Our tra- 
 veller looked earnestly around for the dark countenance of the fox- 
 hunter ; but it was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 At length he hazarded a question concerning him. " That was 
 an awkward accident, my lads, of one of you, who dropped his 
 torch in the water when his companion was struggling with the 
 large fish. 
 
 "Awkward !" returned a shepherd, looking up, (the same stout 
 young fellow who had speared the salmon), " he deserved his paiks 
 fort — to put out the light when the fish was on ane's witters ! * — 
 I'm weel convinced Gabriel drapped the roughies * in the water on 
 purpose — he doesna like to see ony body do a thing better than 
 himsell." 
 
 " Ay," said another, " he's sair shamed o' himsell, else he would 
 have been up here the night — Gabriel likes a little o' the gude thing 
 as weel as ony o' us." 
 
 " Is he of this country ! " said Brown. 
 
 " Na, na, he's been but shortly jn office ; but he's a fell hunter — ■ 
 he's frae down the country, some gate on the Dumfries side." 
 
 " And what's his name, pray ? " 
 
 "Gabriel." 
 
 " But Gabriel what ? " 
 
 " Oh, Lord kens that ; we dinna mind folk's after-names muckle 
 here, they run sae muckle into clans." 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said an old shepherd, rising, and speaking very 
 slow, " the folks hereabout are a' Armstrong's and Elliots,* and sic 
 like — twa or three given names — and so, for distinction's sake, the 
 lairds and farmers have the names of their places that they live at — 
 as for example, Tam o' Todshaw, Will o' the Flat, Hobbie o' Sor- 
 bietrees, and our good master here, o' the Charlies-hope. — Aweel, 
 sir, and then the inferior sort of people, ye'll observe, are kend by 
 sorts 0' by-names some o' them, as Glaiket Christie, and the Deuk's 
 
158 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 Davie, or may be, like this lad Gabriel, by his employment ; as for 
 example, Tod Gabbie, or Hunter Gabbie. He's no been lang here, 
 sir, and I dinna think onybody kens him by ony other name. But 
 it's no right to rin him doun ahint his back, for he's a fell fox- 
 hunter, though he's maybe no just sae clever as some o' the folk 
 hereawa wi' the waster." 
 
 After some further desultory conversation, the superior sportsmen 
 retired to conclude the evening, after their own manner, leaving the 
 others to enjoy themselves, unawed by their presence. That even- 
 ing, like all those which Brown had passed at Charlies-hope, was 
 spent in much innocent mirth and conviviality. The latter might 
 have approached to the verge of riot, but for the good women ; . for 
 several of the neighbouring mistresses (a phrase of a signification 
 how different from what it bears in more fashionable life !) had as- 
 sembled at Charlies-hope to witness the event of this memorable 
 evening. Finding the punch-bowl was so often replenished, that 
 there was some danger of their gracious presence being forgotten, 
 they rushed in valorously upon the recreant revellers, headed by 
 our good mistress Ailie, so that Venus speedily routed Bacchus. 
 The fiddler and piper next made their appearance, and the best 
 part of the night was gallantly consumed in dancing to their 
 music. 
 
 An otter-hunt the next day, and a badger-baiting the day after, 
 consumed the time merrily. — I hope our traveller will not sink in 
 the reader's estimation, sportsman though he may be, when I inform 
 him, that on this last occasion, after young Pepper had lost a fore- 
 foot, and Mustard the second had been nearly throttled, he begged, 
 as a particular and personal favour of Mr. fiinmont, that the poor 
 badger, who had made so gallant a defence, should be permitted to 
 retire to his earth without farther molestation. 
 
 The farmer, who would probably have treated this request with 
 supreme contempt had it come from any other person, was con- 
 tented, in Brown's case, to express the utter extremity of his 
 wonder. — " Weel," he said, " that's queer aneugh !— But since ye 
 take his part, deil a tyke shall meddle wi' him mair in my day — 
 we'll e'en mark him, and ca' him the Captain's brock — and I'm sure 
 I'm glad I can do onything to oblige you — but, Lord save us, to 
 care about a brock ! " 
 
 After a week spent in rural sport, and distinguished by the most 
 frank attentions on the part of his honest landlord, Brown bade 
 adieu to the banks of the Liddel, and the hospitality of Charlies- 
 hope. The children, with all of whom he had now become an in- 
 timate and a favourite, roared manfully in full chorus at his depar- 
 ture, and he was obliged to promise twenty times, that he would 
 
GUY MANNERING. 159 
 
 soon return and play over all their favourite tunes upon the flageolet 
 till they had got them by heart. — " Come back again, Captain," 
 said one sturdy little fellow, " and Jenny will be your wife." Jenny 
 was about eleven years old — she ran and hid herself behind her 
 mammy. 
 
 " Captain, come back," said a little fat roll-about girl of six, hold- 
 ing her mouth up to be kissed, "and I'll be your wife my ainsell." 
 
 " They must be of harder mould than I," thought Brown, " who 
 could part from so many kind hearts with indifference." — The good 
 dame too, with matron modesty, and an affectionate simplicity that 
 marked the olden time, offered her cheek to the departing guest — ■ 
 " It's little the like of us can do," she said, " little indeed — but yet — 
 if there were but onything " 
 
 " Now, my dear Mrs. Dinmont, you embolden me to make a 
 request — would you but have the kindness to weave me, or work me, 
 just such a grey plaid as the goodman wears ? " He had learned 
 the language and feelings of the country even during the short time 
 of his residence, and was aware of the pleasure the request would 
 confer. 
 
 " A tait o' woo' would be scarce amang us," said the goodwife, 
 brightening, " if ye shouldna hae that, and as gude a tweel as ever 
 cam affa pirn. I'll speak to Johnny Goodsire, the weaver at the 
 Castletown, the morn. Fare ye weel, sir ! — and-may ye be just as 
 happy yoursell as ye like to see a' body else — and that would be a 
 sair wish to some folk." 
 
 I must not omit to mention, that our traveller left his trusty at- 
 tendant Wasp to be a guest at Charlies-hope for a season. He 
 foresaw that he might prove a troublesome attendant in the event of 
 his being in any situation where secrecy and concealment might be 
 necessary. He was therefore consigned to the care of the eldest 
 boy, who promised, in the words of the old song, that he should 
 have 
 
 " A bit of his supper, a bit of his bed," 
 
 and that he should be engaged in none of those perilous pastimes 
 in which the race of Mustard and Pepper had suffered frequent 
 mutilation. Brown now prepared for his journey, having taken a tem- 
 porary farewell of his trusty little companion. 
 
 There is an odd prejudice in these hills in favour of riding. 
 Every farmer rides well, and rides the whole day. Probably the 
 extent of their large pasture farms, and the necessity of surveying 
 he m rapidly, first introduced this custom ; or a very zealous antiquary 
 might derive it from the times of the Lay of the Last Minstrel, 
 when twenty thousand horsemen assembled at the light of the 
 
rSo GUY MANNERING. 
 
 beacon fires.* But the truth is undeniable ; they like to be on 
 horseback, and can be with difficulty convinced that any one 
 chooses walking from other motives than those of convenience or 
 necessity. Accordingly, Dinmont insisted upon mounting his guest, 
 and accompanying him on horseback as far as the nearest town in 
 Dumfries-shire, where he had directed his baggage to be sent, and 
 from which he proposed to pursue his intended journey towards 
 Woodbourne, the residence of Julia Mannering. 
 
 Upon the way he questioned his companion concerning the cha- 
 racter of the fox-hunter ; but gained little information, as he had 
 been called to that office while Dinmont was making the round of 
 the Highland fairs. " He was a shake-rag like fellow," he said, 
 " and, he dared to say, had gipsy blood in his veins — but at ony 
 rate, he was nane o' the smacks that had been on their quarters in 
 the moss — he would ken them weel if he saw them again. There 
 are some no bad folk amang the gipsies too, to be sic a gang," 
 added Dandie ; " if ever I see that auld randle-tree of a wife again, 
 I'll gie her something to buy tobacco — I have a great notion she 
 meant me very fair after a'." 
 
 When they were about finally to part, the good fanner held 
 Brown long by the hand, and at length said, " Captain, the woo's 
 sae weel up the year, that it's paid a' the rent, and we have naething 
 to do wi' the rest o' the siller when Ailie has had her new gown, 
 and the bairns their bits o' duds — now I was thinking of some safe 
 hand to put it into, for it's ower muckle to ware on brandy and 
 sugar — now I have heard that you army gentlemen can sometimes 
 buy yoursells up a step ; and if a hundred or twa would help ye on 
 such an occasion, the bit scrape o' your pen would be as good 
 to me as the siller, and ye might just take yere ain time o' settling 
 it — it wad be a great convenience to me." Brown, who felt the full 
 delicacy that wished to disguise the conferring an obligation under 
 the show of asking a favour, thanked his grateful friend most 
 heartily, and assured him he would have recourse to his purse, 
 without scruple, should circumstances ever render it convenient for 
 him. And thus they parted with many expressions of mutual 
 regard. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 If thou hast any love of mercy in thee, 
 Turn me upon my face, that I may die. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 OUR traveller hired a post-chaise at the place where he separated 
 from Dinmont, with the purpose of proceeding to Kippletringan, 
 
GUY MANNERING. !6i 
 
 there to inquire into the state of the family at Woodbourne, before 
 he should venture to make his presence in the country known to 
 Miss Mannering. The stage was a long one of eighteen or twenty 
 miles, and the road lay across the country. To add to the incon- 
 veniences of the journey, the snow began to fall pretty quickly. The 
 postilion, however, proceeded on his journey for a good many miles, 
 without expressing doubt or hesitation. It was not until the night 
 was completely set in, that he intimated his apprehensions whether 
 he was in the right road! The increasing snow rendered this inti- 
 mation rather alarming, for as it drove full in the lad's face, and lay 
 whitening all around him, it served in two different ways to confuse 
 his knowledge of the country, and to diminish the chance of his 
 recovering the right track. Brown then himself got out and looked 
 round, not, it may well be imagined, from any better hope than 
 that of seeing some house at which he might make inquiry. But 
 none appeared — he could therefore only tell the lad to drive steadily 
 on. The road on which they were, ran through plantations of con- 
 siderable extent and depth, and the traveller therefore conjectured 
 that there must be a gentleman's house at no great distance. At 
 length, after struggling wearily on for about a mile, the post-boy 
 stopped, and protested his horses would not budge a foot farther ; 
 " but he saw," he said, " a light among the trees, which must proceed 
 from a house ; the only way was to inquire the road there." Ac- 
 cordingly, he dismounted, heavily encumbered with a long great 
 coat, and a pair of boots which might have rivalled in thickness the 
 seven-fold shield of Ajax. As in this guise he was plodding forth 
 upon his voyage of discovery, Brown's impatience prevailed, and, 
 jumping out of the carriage, he desired the lad to stop where he 
 was, by the horses, and he would himself go to the house — a com- 
 mand which the driver most joyfully obeyed. 
 
 Our traveller groped along the side of the enclosure from which 
 the light glimmered, in order to find some mode of approaching in 
 that direction, and after proceeding for some space, at length found 
 a stile in the hedge, and a pathway leading into the plantation, 
 which in that place was of great extent. This promised to lead to 
 the light which was the object of his search, and accordingly Brown 
 proceeded in that direction, but soon totally lost sight of it among 
 the trees. The path, which at first seemed broad and well marked 
 by the opening of the wood through which it winded, was now less 
 easily distinguishable, although the whiteness of the snow afforded 
 some reflected light to assist his search. Directing himself as 
 much as possible through the more open parts of the wood, he pro- 
 ceeded almost a mile without either recovering a view of the light, 
 or seeing anything resembling a habitation. Still, however, he 
 
162 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 thought it best to persevere in that direction. It must surely have 
 been a light in the hut of a forester, for it shone too steadily to be 
 the glimmer of an ignis fatuus. The ground at length became 
 broken, and declined rapidly ; and although Brown conceived he 
 still moved along what had once at least been a pathway, it was 
 now very unequal, and the snow concealing those breaches and 
 inequalities, the traveller had one or two falls in consequence. He 
 began now to think of turning back, especially as the falling snow, 
 which his impatience had hitherto prevented his attending to, was 
 coming on thicker and faster. 
 
 Willing, however, to make a last effort, he still advanced a little 
 way, when, to his great delight, he beheld the light opposite at no 
 great distance, and apparently upon a level with him. He quickly 
 found that this last appearance was deception, for the ground con- 
 tinued so rapidly to sink, as made it obvious there was a deep dell, 
 or ravine of some kind, between him and the object of his search. 
 Taking every precaution to preserve his footing, he continued to 
 descend until he reached the bottom of a very steep and narrow 
 glen, through which winded a small rivulet, whose course was then 
 almost choked with snow. He now found himself embarrassed 
 among the ruins of cottages, whose black gables, rendered more 
 distinguishable by the contrast with the whitened surface from 
 which they rose, were still standing ; the side-walls had long since 
 given way to time, and, piled in shapeless heaps, and covered with 
 snow, offered frequent and embarrassing obstacles to our traveller's 
 progress. Still, however, he persevered, crossed the rivulet, not 
 without some trouble, and at length, by exertions which became 
 both painful and perilous, ascended its opposite and very rugged 
 bank, until he came on a level with the building from which the 
 gleam proceeded. 
 
 It was difficult, especially by so imperfect a light, to discover the 
 nature of this edifice ; but it seemed a square building of small 
 size, the upper part of which was totally ruinous. It had, perhaps, 
 been the abode, in former times, of some lesser proprietor, or a 
 place of strength and concealment in case of need, for one of 
 greater importance. But only the lower vault remained, the arch 
 of which formed the roof in the present state of the building. 
 Brown first approached the place from whence the light proceeded, 
 which was a long narrow slit or loophole, such as usually are to be 
 found in old castles. Impelled by curiosity to reconnoitre the 
 interior of this strange place before he entered, Brown gazed in at 
 this aperture. A scene of greater desolation could not well be 
 imagined. There was a fire upon the floor, the smoke of which, 
 after circling through the apartment, escaped by a hole broken itt 
 
GUY MANNERING. 163 
 
 the arch above. The walls, seen by this smoky light, had the rude 
 and waste appearance of a ruin of three centuries old at least. A 
 cask or two, with some broken boxes and packages, lay about the 
 place in confusion. But the inmates chiefly occupied Brown's 
 attention. Upon a lair composed of straw, with a blanket stretched 
 over it, lay a figure, so still, that, except that it was not dressed in 
 the ordinary habiliments of the grave, Brown would have con- 
 cluded it to be a corpse. On a steadier view he perceived it was 
 only on the point of becoming so, for he heard one or two of those 
 low, deep, and hard-drawn sighs, that precede dissolution when the 
 frame is tenacious of life. A female figure, dressed in a long cloak, 
 sate on a stone by this miserable couch ; her elbows rested upon 
 her kneeSj and her face, averted from the light of an iron lamp 
 beside her, was bent upon that of the dying person. She moistened 
 his mouth from time to time with some liquid, and between whiles 
 sung, in a low monotonous cadence, one of those prayers, or rather 
 spells, which, in some parts of Scotland, and the north of England, 
 are used by the vulgar and ignorant to speed the passage of a 
 parting spirit, like the tolling of the bell in catholic days. She 
 accompanied this dismal sound with a slow rocking motion of her 
 body to and fro, as if to keep time with her song. The words ran 
 nearly thus : — 
 
 Wasted, weary, wherefore stay, 
 Wrestling thus with earth and clay ? 
 From the body pass away ; — 
 
 Hark ! the mass is singing. 
 
 From thee doff thy mortal weed, 
 Mary Mother be thy speed, 
 Saints to help thee at thy need ; — 
 
 Hark! the knell is ringing. 
 
 Fear not snow-drift driving fast,- 
 Sleet, or hail, or levin blast ; 
 Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast, 
 And the sleep be on thee cast 
 
 That shall ne'er know waking. 
 
 Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone, — 
 Earth flits fast, and time draws on, — t 
 
 Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan, 
 Day is near the breaking. 
 
 The songstress paused, and was answered by one or two deep 
 and hollow groans, that seemed to proceed from the very agony 
 of the mortal strife. " It will not be," she muttered to herself— 
 
 L 2 
 
164 GUY MANNERJNG. 
 
 " He cannot pass away with that on his mind — it tethers hiiu 
 here — 
 
 ' Heaven cannot abide it; 
 Earth refuses to hide it.' * 
 
 I must open the door ; " and, rising, she faced towards the door of 
 the apartment, observing heedfully not to turn back her head, and, 
 withdrawing a bolt or two (for, notwithstanding the miserable 
 appearance of the place, the 4oor was cautiously secured), she 
 lifted the latch, saying, 
 
 Open lock — end strife, 
 Come death, and pass life." 
 
 Brown, who had by this time moved from his post, stood before 
 her as she opened the door. She stepped back a pace, and he 
 entered, instantly recognising, but with no comfortable sensation, 
 the same gipsy woman whom he had met in Bewcastle. She also 
 knew him at once, and her attitude, figure, and the anxiety of her 
 countenance, assumed the appearance of the well-disposed ogress* 
 of a fairy tale, warning a stranger not to enter the dangerous castle 
 of her husband. The first words she spoke (holding up her hands 
 in a reproving manner) were, " Said I not to ye, Make not, meddle 
 not ? — Beware of the redding straik ! * you are come to no house 
 o' fair-strae death." So saying, she raised the lamp, and turned 
 its light on the dying man, whose rude and harsh features were 
 now convulsed with the last agony. A roll of linen about his 
 head was stained with blood, which had soaked also through the 
 blankets and the straw. It was, indeed, under no natural disease 
 that the wretch was suffering. Brown started back from this 
 horrible object, and, turning to the gipsy, exclaimed, " Wretched 
 woman, who has done this ? " 
 
 " They that were permitted," answered Meg Merrilies, while she 
 scanned with a close and keen glance the features of the expiring 
 man. — " He has had a sair struggle — but it's passing — I kenn'd he 
 would pass when you came in. — That was the death-ruckle — he's 
 dead." 
 
 Sounds were now heard at a distance, as of voices. " They are 
 coming," said she to Brown ; " you are a dead man if ye had as 
 mony lives as hairs." Brown eagerly looked round for some 
 weapon of defence. There was none near. He then rushed to the 
 door, with the intention of plunging among the trees, and making 
 his escape by flight, from what he now esteemed a den of mur- 
 derers, but Merrilies held him with a masculine grasp. " Here," 
 she said, " here — be still, and you are safe — stir not, whatever you 
 see or hear, and nothing shall befall you." 
 
GUY MANNERING. iflj 
 
 Brown, in these desperate circumstances, remembered this 
 woman's intimation formerly, and thought he had no chance of 
 safety but in obeying her. She caused him to couch down among 
 a parcel of straw on the opposite side of the apartment from the 
 corpse, covered him carefully, and flung over him two or three old 
 sacks which lay about the place. Anxious to observe what was to 
 happen, Brown arranged, as softly as he could, the means of 
 peeping from under the coverings by which he was hidden, and 
 awaited with a throbbing heart the issue of this strange and most 
 unpleasant adventure. The old gipsy, in the meantime, set about 
 arranging the dead body, composing its limbs and straighting the 
 arms by its side. " Best to do this," she muttered, " ere he stiffen." 
 She placed on the dead man's breast a trencher, with salt sprinkled 
 upon it, set one candle at the head, and another at the feet of the 
 body, and lighted both. Then she resumed her song, and awaited 
 the approach of those whose voices had been heard without. 
 
 Brown was a soldier, and a brave one ; but he was also a man, 
 and at this moment his fears mastered his courage so completely, 
 that the cold drops burst out from every pore. The idea of being 
 dragged out of his miserable concealment by wretches whose trade 
 was that of midnight murder, without weapons or the slightest 
 means of defence, except entreaties which would be only their 
 sport, and cries for help which could never reach other ear than 
 their own — his safety intrusted to the precarious compassion of a 
 being associated with these felons, and whose trade of rapine and 
 
 imposture must have hardened her against every human feeling 
 
 the bitterness of his emotions almost choked him. He endeavoured 
 to read in her withered and dark countenance, as the lamp threw 
 its light upon her features, something that promised those feelings 
 of compassion, which females, even in their most degraded state, 
 can seldom altogether smother. There was no such touch of 
 humanity about this woman. The interest, whatever it was, that 
 determined her in his favour, arose not from the impulse of com- 
 passion, but from some internal, and probably capricious, associa- 
 tion of feelings, to which he had no clue. It rested, perhaps, on a 
 fancied likeness, such as Lady Macbeth found to her father in the 
 sleeping monarch. Su<;h were the reflections that passed in rapid 
 succession through Brown's mind as he gazed from his hiding-place 
 upon this extraordinary personage. Meantime the gang did not 
 yet approach, and he was almost prompted to resume his original 
 intention of attempting an escape from the hut, and cursed in- 
 ternally his own irresolution, which had consented to his being 
 cooped up where he had neither room for assistance nor flight. 
 
 Meg Merrilies seemed equally on the watch. She bent her ear 
 
i66 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 to every sound that whistled round the old walls. Then she turned 
 again to the dead body, and found something new to arrange or 
 alter in its position. " He's a bonny corpse," she muttered to her- 
 self, " and weel worth the streaking." — And in this dismal occupa- 
 tion she appeared to feel a sort of professional pleasure, entering 
 slowly into all the minutiae, as if with the skill and feelings of a 
 connoisseur. A long dark-coloured sea-cloak, which she dragged 
 out of a corner, was disposed for a pall. The face she left bare, 
 after closing the mouth and eyes, and arranged the capes of the 
 cloak, so as to hide the bloody bandages, and give the body, as she 
 muttered, " a majr decent appearance." 
 
 At once three or four men, equally ruffians in appearance and 
 dress, rushed into the hut. " Meg, ye limb of Satan, how dare you 
 leave the door open ? " was the first salutation of the party. 
 
 " And wha ever heard of a door being barred when a man was 
 in the dead-thraw ? — how d'ye think the spirit was to get awa through 
 bolts and bars like thae ? " 
 
 " Is he dead, then ? " said one who went to the side of the couch 
 to look at the body. 
 
 " Ay, ay — dead enough," said another — " but here's what shall 
 give him a rousing lykewake." So saying, he fetched a keg of 
 spirits from a corner, while Meg hastened to display pipes and 
 tobacco. From the activity with which she undertook the task, 
 Brown conceived good hope of her fidelity towards her guest. It 
 was obvious that she wished to engage the ruffians in their debauch, 
 to prevent the discovery which might take place, if, by accident, 
 any of them should approach too nearly the place of Brown's con- 
 cealment. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Nor board, nor garner own we now, 
 
 Nor roof nor latched door, 
 Nor kind mate, bound, by holy vow, 
 
 To bless a good man's store. 
 Noon lulls us in a gloomy den, 
 
 And night is grown our day ; 
 Uprouse ye, then, my merry men 
 
 And use it as ye may. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Brown could now reckon his foes ;— they were five in number} 
 two of them were very powerful men, who appeared to be either 
 
GUY MANNERING. 167 
 
 real seamen, or strollers who assumed that character ; the other 
 three, an old man and two lads, were slighter made, and, from their 
 black hair and dark complexion, seemed to belong to Meg's tribe. 
 They passed from one to another the cup out of which they drank 
 their spirits. " Here's to his good voyage ! " said one of the sea- 
 men, drinking ; " a squally night he's got, however, to drift through 
 the sky in." 
 
 We omit here various execrations with which these honest 
 gentlemen garnished their discourse, retaining only such of their 
 expletives as are least offensive. 
 
 " 'A does not mind wind and weather — 'A has had many a north- 
 easter in his day." 
 
 " He had his last yesterday," said another, gruffly ; " and now 
 old Meg may pray for his last fair wind, as she's often done 
 before." 
 
 " I'll pray for nane o' him," said Meg, " nor for you neither, you 
 randy dog. The times are sair altered since I was akinchen-mort.* 
 Men were men then, and fought other in the open field, and there 
 was nae milling in the darkmans.* And the gentry had kind 
 hearts, and would have given baith lap and pannel * to ony puir 
 gipsy ; and there was not one, from Johnnie Faa, the upright man,* 
 to little Christie that was in the panniers, would cloyed a dud* from 
 them. But ye are a' altered from the good auld rules, and no 
 wonder that you scour the cramp-ring, and trine to the cheat * sae 
 often. Yes, ye are a' altered — you'll eat the goodman's meat, drink 
 his drink, sleep on the strammel * in his barn, and break his house 
 and cut his throat for his pains ! There's blood on your hands, 
 too, ye dogs— mair than ever came there by fair fighting. See how 
 ye'll die then — lang it was ere he died — he strove, and strove sair, 
 and could neither die nor live ; — but you — half the country will see 
 how ye'll grace the woodie." 
 
 The party set up a hoarse laugh at Meg's prophecy. 
 
 " What made you come back here, ye auld beldam ? " said one of 
 the gipsies ; " could ye not have staid where you were, and spaed 
 fortunes to the Cumberland flats ? — Bing out and tour,* ye auld 
 devil, and see that nobody has scented ; that's a' you're good for 
 now." 
 
 " Is that a' I am good for now ? " said the indignant matron. "I 
 was good for mair than that in the great fight between our folk and 
 Patrico Salmon's ; if I had not helped you with these very fambles 
 (holding up her hands), Jean Baillie would have frammagem'd you,* 
 ye feckless do-little ! " 
 
 There was here another laugh at the expense of the hero wl«i 
 had received this amazon's assistance. 
 
168 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Here, mother," said one of the sailors, " here"s a cup of the 
 right for you, and never mind that bully-huff." 
 
 Meg drank the spirits, and, withdrawing herself from farther 
 conversation, sat down before the spot where Brown lay hid, in 
 such a posture that it would have been difficult for any one to have 
 approached it without her rising. The men, however, showed no 
 disposition to disturb her. 
 
 They closed around the fire, and held deep consultation together; 
 but the low tone in which they spoke, and the cant language which 
 they used, prevented Brown from understanding much of their con- 
 versation. He gathered in general, that they expressed great indig- 
 nation against some individual. " He shall have his gruel," said 
 one, and then whispered something very low into the ear of his 
 comrade. 
 
 " I'll have nothing to do with that," said the other. 
 
 " Are you turned hen-hearted, Jack ? " 
 
 " No, by G — d, no more than yourself, — but I won't ; it was 
 something like that stopped all the trade fifteen or twenty years 
 ago — you have heard of the Loup ? " 
 
 " I have heard him (indicating the corpse by a jerk of his head) 
 tell about that job. G — d, how he used to laugh when he showed 
 us how he fetched him off the perch ! " 
 
 " Well, but it did up the trade for one while,'' said Jack. 
 
 " How should that be ? " asked the surly villain. 
 
 " Why," replied Jack, " the people got rusty about it, and would 
 not deal, and they had bought so many brooms * that " 
 
 " Well, for all that," said the other, " I think we should be down 
 upon the fellow one of these darkmans, and let him get it well." 
 
 " But old Meg's asleep now," said another ; " she grows a 
 driveller, and is afraid of her shadow. She'll sing out,* some of 
 these odd-come-shortlies, if you don't look sharp." 
 
 " Never fear," said the old gipsy man ; " Meg's true-bred ; she's 
 the last in the gang that will start — but she has some queer ways, 
 and often cuts queer words." 
 
 With more of this gibberish, they continued the conversation, 
 rendering it thus, even to each other, a dark obscure dialect, eked 
 out by significant nods and signs, but never expressing distinctly, 
 or in plain language, the subject on which it turned. At length one 
 of them, observing Meg was still fast asleep, or appeared to be so, 
 desired one of the lads "to hand in the black Peter, that they might 
 flick it open." The boy stepped to the door and brought in a port- 
 manteau, which Brown instantly recognised for his own. His 
 thoughts immediately turned to the unfortunate lad he had left with 
 the carriage. Had the ruffians murdered him? was the horrible 
 
GUY MANNERING. 169 
 
 doubt that .crossed his mind. The agony of his attention grew yet 
 keener, and while the villains pulled out and admired the different 
 articles of his clothes and linen, he eagerly listened for some indi- 
 cation that might intimate the fate of the postilion. But the 
 ruffians were too much delighted with their prize, and too much 
 busied in examining its contents, to enter into any detail concern- 
 ing the manner in which they had acquired it. The portmanteau 
 contained various articles of apparel, a pair of pistols, a leathern 
 case with a few papers, and some money, &c, &c. At any other 
 time it would have provoked Brown excessively to see the uncere- 
 monious manner in which the thieves shared his property, and 
 made themselves merry at the expense of the owner. But the 
 moment was too perilous to admit any thoughts but what had 
 immediate reference to self-preservation. 
 
 After a sufficient scrutiny into the portmanteau, and an equitable 
 division of its contents, the ruffians applied themselves more closely 
 to the serious occupation of drinking, in which they spent the 
 greater part of the night. Brown was for some time in great hopes 
 that they would drink so deep as to render themselves insensible, 
 when his escape would have been an easy matter. But their dan- 
 gerous trade required precautions inconsistent with such unlimited 
 indulgence, and they stopped short on this side of absolute intoxi- 
 cation. Three of them at length composed themselves to rest, 
 while the fourth watched. He was relieved in this duty by one of the 
 others, after a vigil of two hours. When the second watch had 
 elapsed, the sentinel awakened the whole, who, to Brown's inex- 
 pressible relief, began to make some preparations as if for departure, 
 bundling up the various articles which each had appropriated. 
 Still, however, there remained something to be done. Two of them, 
 after some rummaging, which not a little alarmed Brown, produced 
 a mattock and shovel, another took a pick-axe from behind the 
 straw on which the dead body was extended. With these imple- 
 ments two of them left the hut, and the remaining three, two of 
 whom were the seamen, very strong men, still remained in garrison. 
 
 After the space of about half an hour, one of those who had 
 departed again returned, and whispered the others. They wrapped 
 up the dead body in the sea-cloak which had served as a pall, and 
 went out, bearing it along with them. The aged sybil then arose 
 from her real or feigned slumbers. She first went to the door, as if 
 for the purpose of watching the departure of her late inmates, then 
 returned, and commanded Brown, in a low and stifled voice, to 
 follow her instantly. He obeyed ; but, on leaving the hut, he 
 would willingly have repossessed himself of his money, or papers at 
 least ; but this she prohibited in the most peremptory manner. It 
 
170 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 immediately occurred to him that the suspicion of having umoved 
 anything, of which he might repossess himself, would fall upon this 
 woman, by whom, in all probability, his life had been saved. He 
 therefore immediately desisted from his attempt, contenting himself 
 with seizing a cutlass, which one of the ruffians had flung aside 
 among the straw. On his feet, and possessed of this weapon, he 
 already found himself half delivered from the dangers which beset 
 him. Still, however, he felt stiffened and cramped, both with the 
 cold, and by the constrained and unaltered position which he had 
 occupied all night. But as he followed the gipsy from the door of 
 the hut, the fresh air of the morning, and the action of walking, re- 
 stored circulation and activity to his benumbed limbs. 
 
 The pale light of a winter's morning was rendered more clear by 
 the snow, which was lying all around, crisped by the influence of a 
 severe frost. Brown cast a hasty glance at the landscape around 
 him, that he might be able again to know the spot. The little 
 tower, of which only a single vault remained, forming the dismal 
 apartment in which he had spent this remarkable night, was perched 
 on the very point of a projecting rock overhanging the rivulet. It 
 was accessible only on one side, and that from the ravine or glen 
 below. On the other three sides the bank was precipitous, so that 
 Brown had on the preceding evening escaped more dangers than 
 one ; for, if he had attempted to go round the building, which was 
 once his purpose, he must have been dashed to pieces. The dell 
 was so narrow, that the trees met in some places from the opposite 
 sides. They were now loaded with snow instead of leaves, and thus 
 formed a sort of frozen canopy over the rivulet beneath, which was 
 marked by its darker colour, as it soaked its way obscurely through 
 wreaths of snow. In one place, where the glen was a little wider, 
 leaving a small piece of flat ground between the rivulet and the 
 bank, were situated the ruins of the hamlet in which Brown had 
 been involved on the preceding evening. The ruined gables, the 
 insides of which were japanned with turf-smoke, looked yet blacker, 
 contrasted with the patches of snow which had been driven against 
 them by the wind, and with the drifts which lay around them. 
 
 Upon this wintry and dismal scene, Brown could only at present 
 cast a very hasty glance ; for his guide, after pausing an instant, 
 as if to permit him to indulge his curiosity, strode hastily before 
 him down the path which led into the glen. He observed, with 
 some feelings of suspicion, that she chose a track already marked 
 by several feet, which he could only suppose were those of the 
 depredators who had spent the night in the vault. A moment's 
 recollection, however, put his suspicions to rest. It was not to be 
 thought that the woman, who might have delivered him up to her 
 
GUY MANNERING. 171 
 
 gang when in a state totally defenceless, would have suspended her 
 supposed treachery until he was armed and in the open air; and had 
 so many better chances of defence or escape. He therefore followed 
 his guide in confidence and silence. They crossed the small brook 
 at the same place where it previously had been passed by those 
 who had gone before. The foot-marks then proceeded through the 
 ruined village, and from thence down the glen, which again narrowed 
 to a ravine, after the small opening in which they were situated. 
 But the gipsy no longer followed the same track ; she turned aside, 
 and led the way, by a very rugged and uneven path, up the bank 
 which overhung the village. Although the snow in many places 
 hid the path-way, and rendered the footing uncertain and unsafe, 
 Meg proceeded with a firm and determined step, which indicated an 
 intimate knowledge of the ground she traversed. At length they 
 gained the top of the bank, though by a passage so steep and 
 intricate, that Brown, though convinced it was the same by which 
 he had descended on the night before, was not a little surprised 
 how he had accomplished the task without breaking his neck. 
 Above, the country opened wide and unenclosed for about a mile 
 or two on the one hand, and on the other were thick plantations of 
 considerable extent. 
 
 Meg, however, still led the way along the bank of the ravine out 
 of which they had ascended, until she heard beneath the murmur 
 of voices. She then pointed to a deep plantation of trees at some 
 distance — " The road to Kippletringan," she said, " is on the other 
 side of these enclosures — Make the speed ye can ; there's mair 
 rests on your life than other folk's. — But you have lost all — stay." 
 She fumbled in an immense pocket, from which she produced a 
 greasy purse — " Man/s the awmous your house has gi'en Meg and 
 hers — and she has lived to pay it back in a small degree ;"— and 
 she placed the purse in his hand. 
 
 " The woman is insane," thought Brown ; but it was no time to 
 debate the point, for the sounds he heard in the ravine below 
 probably proceeded from the banditti. " How shall I repay this 
 money," he said, " or how acknowledge the kindness you have 
 done me ? " 
 
 " I hae twa boons to crave," answered the sybil, speaking low 
 and hastily : " one, that you will never speak of what you have 
 seen this night ; the other, that you will not leave this country till 
 you see me again, and that you leave word at the Gordon-arms 
 where you are to be heard of ; and when I next call for you, be it 
 in church or market, at wedding or at burial, Sunday or Saturday, 
 meal-time or fasting, that ye leave everything else and come 
 with me." 
 
172 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Why, that will do you little good, mother." 
 
 " But 'twill do yoursell muckle, and that's what I'm thinking o — 
 I am not mad, although I have had eneugh to make me sae — I am 
 not mad, nor doating, nor drunken — I know what I am asking, and 
 I know it has been the will of God to preserve you in strange 
 dangers, and that I shall be the instrument to set you in your 
 father's seat again. —Sae give me your promise, and mind that you 
 owe your life to me this blessed night." 
 
 " There's wildness in her manner, certainly," thought Brown, — 
 " and yet it is more like the wildness of energy than of madness. 
 
 "Well, mother, since you do ask so useless and trifling a favour, 
 you have my promise. It will at least give me an opportunity to 
 repay your money with additions. You are an uncommon kind of 
 creditor, no doubt, but " 
 
 " Away, away, then ! " said she, waving her hand. " Think not 
 about the goud — it's a' your ain ; but remember your promise, and 
 do not dare to follow me or look after me." So saying, she 
 plunged again into the dell, and descended it with great agility, the 
 icicles and snow-wreaths showering down after her as she dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Notwithstanding her prohibition, Brown endeavoured to gain 
 some point of the bank from which he might, unseen, gaze down 
 into the glen ; and with some difficulty (for it must be conceived 
 that the utmost caution was necessary) he succeeded. The spot 
 which he attained for this purpose was the point of a projecting 
 rock, which rose precipitously from among the trees. By kneeling 
 down among the snow, and stretching his head cautiously forward, 
 he could observe what was going on in the bottom of the dell. He 
 saw, as he expected, his companions of the last night, now joined by 
 two or three others. They had cleared away the snow from the foot of 
 the rock, and dug a deep pit, which was designed to serve the pur- 
 pose of a grave. Around this they now stood and lowered into it 
 something wrapped in a naval cloak, which Brown instantly con- 
 cluded to be the dead body of the man he had seen expire. They 
 then stood silent for half a minute, as if under some touch of 
 feeling for the loss of their companion. But if they experienced 
 such, they did not long remain under its influence, for all hands 
 went presently to work to fill up the grave ; and Brown, perceiving 
 that the task would be soon ended, thought it best to take the 
 gipsy-woman's hint, and walk as fast as possible until he should 
 gain the shelter of the plantation. 
 
 Having arrived under cover of the trees, his first thought was of 
 the gipsy's purse. He had accepted it without hesitation, though 
 with something like a feeling of degradation, arising from the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 173 
 
 character of the person by whom he was thus accommodated. But 
 it relieved him from a serious though temporary embarrassment. 
 His money, excepting a very few shillings, was in his portmanteau, 
 and that was ■ in possession of Meg's friends. Some time was 
 necessary to write to his agent, or even to apply to his good host at 
 Charlies-hope, who would gladly have supplied him. In the mean- 
 time, he resolved to avail himself of Meg's subsidy, confident that 
 he should have a speedy opportunity of replacing it with a hand- 
 some gratuity. " It -can be but a trifling sum," he said to himself, 
 " and I dare say the good lady may have a share of my bank-notes 
 to make amends." 
 
 With these reflections he opened the leathern purse, expecting to 
 find at most three or four guineas. But how much was he sur- 
 prised to discover that it contained, besides a considerable quantity 
 of gold pieces, of different coinages and various countries, the joint 
 amount of which could not be short of a hundred pounds, several 
 valuable rings and ornaments set with jewels, and, as appeared 
 from the slight inspection he had time to give them, of very con- 
 siderable value. 
 
 Brown was equally astonished and embarrassed by the circum- 
 stances in which he found himself possessed, as he now appeared 
 to be, of property to a much greater amount than his own, but 
 which had been obtained in all probability by the same nefarious 
 means through which he had himself been plundered. His first 
 thought was to inquire after the nearest justice of peace, and to 
 place in his hands the treasure of which he had thus unexpectedly 
 become the depositary, telling, at the same time, his own remark- 
 able story. But a moment's consideration brought several 
 objections to this mode of procedure. In the first place, by 
 observing this course, he should break his promise of silence, and 
 might probably by that means involve the safety, perhaps the life, 
 of this woman, who had risked her own to preserve his, and who 
 had voluntarily endowed him with this treasure, — a generosity which 
 might thus become the means of her ruin. This was not to be 
 thought of. Besides, he was a stranger, and, for a time at least, 
 unprovided with means of establishing his own character and 
 credit to the satisfaction of a stupid or obstinate country magis- 
 trate. " I will think over the matter more maturely," he said : 
 " perhaps there may be a regiment quartered at the county-town, 
 in which case my knowledge of the service, and acquaintance with 
 many officers of the army, cannot fail to establish my situation and 
 character by evidence which a civil judge could not sufficiently 
 estimate. And then I shall have the commanding-officer's assist- 
 ance in managing matters so as to screen this unhappy madwoman, 
 
174 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 whose mistake or prejudice has been so fortunate for me. A civil 
 magistrate might think himself obliged to send out warrants for her 
 at once, and the consequence, in case of her being taken, is pretty 
 evident. — No, she has been upon honour with me if she were the 
 devil, and I will be equally upon honour with her — she shall have 
 the privilege of a court-martial, where the point of honour can 
 qualify strict law. Besides, I may see her at this place, Kipple — 
 Couple — what did she call it ? — and then I can make restitution to 
 her, and e'en let the law claim its own when it can secure her. , In 
 the meanwhile, however, I cut rather an awkward figure for one 
 who has the honour to bear his Majesty's commission, being little 
 better than the receiver of stolen goods." 
 
 With these reflections, Brown took from the gipsy's treasure 
 three or four guineas, for the purpose of his immediate expenses, 
 and tying up the rest in the purse which contained them, resolved 
 not again to open it, until he could either restore it to her by whom 
 it was given, or put it into the hands of some public functionary. 
 He next thought of the cutlass, and his first impulse was to leave it 
 in the plantation. But when he considered the risk of meeting 
 with these ruffians, he could not resolve on parting with his arms. 
 His walking-dress, though plain, had so much of a military 
 character as suited not amiss with his having such a weapon. 
 Besides, though the Custom of wearing swords by persons out of 
 uniform had been gradually becoming antiquated, it was not yet so 
 totally forgotten as to occasion any particular remark towards 
 those who chose to adhere to it. Retaining, therefore, his weapon 
 of defence, and placing the purse of the gipsy in a private pocket, 
 our traveller strode gallantly on through the wood in search of the 
 promised high-road. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 All school-day's friendship, childhood innocence, 
 We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, 
 Have with our needles created both one flower, 
 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
 Both warbling of one song, both in one key, 
 As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, 
 Had been incorporate. 
 
 A Midsummer Nights Dream. 
 
 Julia Mannering to Matilda Marchmont. 
 
 " How can you upbraid me, my dearest Matilda, with abatement 
 in friendship, or fluctuation in affection ? Is it possible for me to 
 forget that you are the chosen of my heart, in whose faithful 
 
GV1 BANNERING. i 7S 
 
 bosom I have deposited every feeling which your poor Julia dares 
 to acknowlege to herself? And you do me equal injustice in up- 
 braiding me with exchanging your friendship for that of Lucy 
 Bertram. I assure you she has not the materials I must seek for 
 in a bosom confidante. She is a charming girl, to be sure, and I 
 like her very much, and I confess our forenoori and evening 
 engagements have left me less time for the exercise of my pen 
 than our proposed regularity of correspondence demands. But 
 she is totally devoid of elegant accomplishments, excepting the 
 knowledge of French and Italian, which she acquired from the 
 most grotesque monster you ever beheld, whom my father has 
 engaged as a kind of librarian, and whom he patronises, I believe, 
 to show his defiance of the world's opinion. Colonel Mannering 
 seems to have formed a determination, that nothing shall be con- 
 sidered as ridiculous, so long as it appertains to or is connected 
 with him. I remember in India he had picked up somewhere a 
 little mongrel cur, with bandy legs, a long back, and huge flapping 
 ears. Of this uncouth creature he chose to make a favourite, in 
 despite of all taste and opinion ; and I remember one instance 
 which he alleged, of what he called Brown's petulance, was, that 
 he had criticised severely the crooked legs and drooping ears of 
 Bingo. On my word, Matilda, I believe he nurses his high opinion 
 of this most awkward of all pedants upon a similar principle. He 
 seats the creature at table, where he pronounces a grace that 
 sounds like the scream of the man in the square that used to cry 
 mackarel, flings his meat down his throat by shovelfuls, like a 
 dustman loading his cart, and apparently without the most distant 
 perception of what he is swallowing, — then bleats forth another 
 unnatural set of tones, by way of returning thanks, stalks out of 
 the room, and immerses himself among a parcel of huge worm- 
 eaten folios that are as uncouth as himself ! I could endure the 
 creature well enough, had I anybody to laugh at him along with 
 me ; but Lucy Bertram, if I but verge on the border of a jest 
 affecting this same Mr. Sampson (such is the horrid man's horrid 
 name), looks so piteous, that it deprives me of all spirit to proceed, 
 and my father knits his brow, flashes fire from his eye, bites his 
 lip, and says something that is extremely rude, and uncomfortable 
 to my feelings. , 
 
 " It was not of this creature, however, that I meant to speak to 
 you — only that, being a good scholar in the modern as well as the 
 ancient languages, he has contrived to make Lucy Bertram 
 mistress of the former, and she has only, I believe, to thank her 
 own good sense or obstinacy, that the Greek, Latin (and Hebrew, 
 for aught I know), were not added to her acquisitions. And thus 
 
176 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 she really has a great fund of information, and I assure you I am, 
 daily surprised at the power which she seems to possess of amusing 
 herself by recalling and arranging the subjects of her former 
 reading. We read together every morning, and I begin to like 
 Italian much better than when we were teased by that conceited 
 animal Cicipici ; — this is the way to spell his name, and not 
 Chichipichi — you see I grow a connoisseur. 
 
 " But perhaps I 1'ke Miss Bertram more for the accomplishments 
 she wants, than for the knowledge she possesses. She knows 
 nothing of music whatever, and no more of dancing than is here 
 common to the meanest peasants, who, by the way, dance with 
 great zeal and spirit. So that I am instructor in my turn, and she 
 takes with great gratitude lessons from me upon the harpsichord, 
 and I have even taught her some of La Pique's steps, and you 
 know he thought me a promising scholar. 
 
 " In the evening, papa often reads, and I assure you he is the 
 best reader of poetry you ever heard — not like that actor, who 
 made a kind of jumble between reading and acting, staring, and 
 bending his brow, and twisting his face, and gesticulating as if he 
 were on the stage, and dressed out in all his costume. My father's 
 manner is quite different — it is the reading of a gentleman, who 
 produces effect by feeling, taste, and inflection of voice, not by 
 action or mummery. Lucy Bertram rides remarkably well, and I 
 can now accompany her on horseback, having become emboldened 
 by example. We walk also a good deal, in spite of .the cold. — So, 
 upon the whole, I have not quite so much time for writing as 
 I used to have. 
 
 " Besides, my love, I must really use the apology of all stupid 
 correspondents, that I have nothing to say. My hopes, my fears, 
 my anxieties about Brown, are of a less interesting cast, since 
 I know that he is at liberty, and in health. Besides, I must own, 
 I think that by this time the gentleman might have given me some 
 intimation what he was doing. Our intercourse may be an 
 imprudent one, but it is not very complimentary to me, that 
 Mr. Vanbeest Brown should be the first to discover that such is 
 the case, and to break off in consequence. I can promise him that 
 we might not differ much in opinion should that happen to be his, 
 for I have sometimes thought I have behaved extremely foolishly 
 in that matter. Yet I have so good an opinion of poor Brown, 
 that I cannot but think there is something extraordinary in his 
 silence. 
 
 " To return to Lucy Bertram — No, my dearest Matilda, she can 
 never, never rival you in my regard, so that all your affectionate 
 jealousy on that account is without foundation. She is, to be sure. 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 177 
 
 a very pretty, a very sensible, a very affectionate girl, and I think 
 there are few persons to whose consolatory friendship I could have 
 recourse more freely in what are called the real evils of life. But 
 then these so seldom come in one's way, and one wants a friend 
 who will sympathize with distresses of sentiment, as well as with 
 actual misfortune. Heaven knows, and you know, my dearest 
 Matilda, that these diseases of the heart require the balm of 
 sympathy and affection, as much as the evils of a more obvious and 
 determinate character. Now Lucy Bertram has nothing of this 
 kindly sympathy — nothing at all, my dearest Matilda. Were 
 I sick of a fever, she would sit up night after night to nurse me 
 with the most unrepining patience ; but with the fever of the heart, 
 which my Matilda has soothed so often, she has no more sympathy 
 than her old tutor. And yet what provokes me is, that the demure 
 monkey actually has a lover of her own, and that their mutual 
 affection (for mutual I take it to be) has a great deal of complicated 
 and romantic interest. She was once, you must know, a great 
 heiress, but was ruined by the prodigality of her father, and the 
 villany of a horrid man in whom he confided. And one of the 
 handsomest young gentlemen in the country is attached to her ; 
 but as he is heir to a great estate, she discourages his addresses on 
 account of the disproportion of their fortune. 
 
 " But with all this moderation, and self-denial, and modesty, and 
 so forth, Lucy is a sly girl — I am sure she loves young Hazlewood, 
 and I am sure he has some guess of that, and would probably 
 bring her to acknowledge it too, if my father or she would allow 
 him an opportunity. But you must know the Colonel is always 
 himself in the way to pay Miss Bertram those attentions which 
 afford the best indirect opportunities for a young gentleman in 
 Hazlewood's situation. I would have my good papa take care 
 that he does not himself pay the usual penalty of meddling folks. 
 I assure you, if I were Hazlewood, I should look on his compli- 
 ments, his bowings, his cloakings, his shawlings, and his handings, 
 with some little suspicion — and truly I think Hazlewood does so too 
 at some odd times. Then imagine what a silly figure your poor 
 Julia makes on such occasions ! Here is my father making the 
 agreeable to my friend ; there is young Hazlewood watching every 
 word of her lips, and every motion of her eye ; and I have riot the 
 poor satisfaction of interesting a human being — not even the exotic 
 monster of a parson, for even he sits with his mouth open, and his 
 huge round goggling eyes fixed like those of a statue, admiring 
 Mess Baartram ! 
 
 " All this makes me sometimes a little nervous, and sometimes a 
 little mischievous. I was so provoked at my father and the lovers 
 
 M 
 
178 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 the other day for turning me completely out of their thoughts and 
 society, that I began an attack upon Hazlewood, from which it 
 was impossible for him, in common civility, to escape. He 
 insensibly became warm in his defence — I assure you, Matilda, he 
 is a very clever, as well as a very handsome young man, and 
 I don't think I ever remember having seen him to the same 
 advantage— when, behold, in the midst of our lively conversation, 
 a very soft sigh from Miss Lucy reached my not ungratified ears. 
 I was greatly too generous to prosecute my victory any farther, 
 even if I had not been afraid of papa. Luckily for me, he had at 
 that moment got into a long description of the peculiar notions and 
 manners of a certain tribe of Indians, who live far tip the country, 
 and was illustrating them by making drawings on Miss Bertram's 
 work-patterns, three of which he utterly damaged, by introducing 
 among the intricacies of the pattern his specimens of Oriental 
 costume. But I believe she thought as little of her own gown at 
 the moment as of the India turbands and cummerbands. How- 
 ever, it was quite as well for me that he did not see all the merit of 
 my little manoeuvre, for he is as sharp-sighted as a hawk, and 
 a sworn enemy to the slightest shade of coquetry. 
 
 "Well, Matilda, Hazlewood heard this same half-audible sigh, 
 and instantly repented his temporary attentions to such an un- 
 worthy object as your Julia, and, with a very comical expression 
 of consciousness, drew near to Lucy's work-table. He made some 
 trifling observation, and her reply was one in which nothing but an 
 ear as acute as that of a lover, or a curious observer like myself, 
 could have distinguished anything more cold and dry than usual. 
 But it conveyed reproof to the self-accusing hero, and he stood 
 abashed accordingly. You will admit that I was called upon in 
 generosity to act as mediator. So I mingled in the conversation, 
 in the quiet tone of an unobserving and uninterested third party, 
 led them into their former habits of easy chat, and, after having 
 served awhile sis the channel of communication through which they 
 chose to address each other, set them down to a pensive game at 
 chess, and very dutifully went to tease papa, who Was still busied 
 with his drawings. The chess-players, you must observe, were 
 placed near the chimney, beside a little work-table, which held the 
 board and men, the Colonel at some distance, with lights upon a 
 library table, — for it is a large old-fashioned room, with several 
 recesses, and hung with grim tapestry, representing what it might 
 have puzzled the artist himself to explain. , 
 
 ' Is chess a^ very interesting game, papa ? ' 
 
 ' I am 1 fold so,' without honouring me with much of his 
 notice 
 
GUY MANNERING. 179 
 
 ' I should think so, from the attention Mr. Hazlewood and Lucy 
 are bestowing on it.' 
 
 " He raised his head hastily, and held his pencil suspended for 
 an instant. Apparently he saw nothing that excited his suspicions, 
 for he was resuming the folds of a Mahratta's turban in tranquillity, 
 when I interrupted him with — ' How old is Miss Bertram, sir ? ' 
 
 ' How should I know, miss ? about your own age, I suppose.' 
 
 ' Older, I should think, sir. You are always telling me how much 
 more decorously she goes through all the honours of the tea-table 
 — Lord, papa, what if you should give her a right to preside once 
 and for ever ! '- 
 
 'Julia, my dear,' returned papa, 'you are either a fool outright, 
 or you are more disposed to make mischief than I have yet believed 
 you.' 
 
 ' Oh, my dear sir ! put your best construction upon it — I would 
 not be thought a fool for all the world.' 
 
 ' Then why do you talk like one ? ' said my father. 
 
 * Lord, sir, I am sure there is nothing so foolish in what I said 
 just now — Everybody knows you are a very handsome man' 
 (a smile was just visible), ' that is, for your time of life ' (the dawn 
 was overcast), ' which is far from being advanced, and I am sure 
 I don't know why you should not please yourself, if you have 
 a mind. I am sensible I am but a thoughtless girl," and if a 
 graver companion could render you more happy' 
 
 " There was a mixture of displeasure and grave affection in the 
 manner in which my father took my hand, that was a severe 
 reproof to me for trifling with his feelings. ' Julia,' he said, ' I bear 
 with much of your petulance, because I think I have in some 
 degree deserved it, by neglecting to superintend your education 
 sufficiently closely. Yet I would not have you give it the rein 
 upon a subject so delicate. If you do not respect the feelings of 
 your surviving parent towards the memory of her whom you have 
 lost, attend at least to the sacred claims of misfortune ; and 
 observe, that the slightest hint of such a jest reaching Miss Ber- 
 tram's ears, would at once induce her to renounce her present 
 asylum, and go forth, without a protector, into a world she has 
 already felt so unfriendly.' 
 
 "What could I say to this, Matilda? — I only cried heartily, 
 begged pardon, and promised to be a good girl in future. And so 
 here am I neutralized again ; for I cannot, in honour, or common 
 good nature, tease poor Lucy by interfering with Hazlewood, 
 although she has so little confidence in me ; and neither can I, 
 after this grave appeal, venture again upon such delicate ground 
 with papa. So I burn little rolls of paper, and sketch Turks' 
 
 m 2 
 
itfo GUY MANNERING. 
 
 heads upon visiting cards with the blackened end — I asuuie you 1 
 succeeded in making a superb Hyder Ally last night — and I jingle 
 on my unfortunate harpsichord, and begin at the end of a grave 
 book and read it backward. — After all, I begin to be very much 
 vexed about Brown's silence. Had he been obliged to leave the 
 country, I am sure he would at least have written to me — Is it 
 possible that my father can have intercepted his letters ? But no — 
 that is contrary to all his principles — I don't think he would open 
 a letter addressed to me to-night, to prevent my jumping out of 
 window to-morrow. What an expression I have suffered to escape 
 my pen ! I should be ashamed of it, even to you, Matilda, and 
 used in jest. But I need not take much merit for acting as 
 I ought to do. — This same Mr. Vanbeest Brown is by no means so 
 very ardent a lover as to hurry the object of his attachment into 
 such inconsiderate steps. He gives one full time to reflect, that 
 must be admitted. However, I will not blame him unheard, nor 
 permit myself to doubt the manly firmness of a character which I 
 have so often extolled to you. Were he capable of doubt, of fear, 
 of the shadow of change, I should have little to regret. 
 
 " And why, you will say, when I expect such steady and unalter- 
 able constancy from a lover, why should I be anxious about what 
 Hazlewood does, or to whom he offers his attentions ? — I ask 
 myself the question a hundred times a-day, and it only receives 
 the very silly answer, that one does not like to be neglected, though 
 one would not encourage a serious infidelity. 
 
 " I write all these trifles, because you say that they amuse you, 
 and yet I wonder how they should. I remember, in our stolen 
 voyages to the world of fiction, you always admired the grand and 
 the romantic — tales of knights, dwarfs, giants, and distressed 
 damsels, soothsayers, visions, beckoning ghosts, and bloody hands, 
 — whereas I was partial to the involved intrigues of private life, or 
 at farthest, to so much only of the supernatural as is conferred by 
 the agency of an Eastern genie or a beneficent fairy. You would 
 have loved to shape your course of life over the broad ocean, with 
 its dead calms and howling tempests, its tornadoes, and its billows 
 mountain-high, — whereas I should like to trim my little pinnace to 
 a brisk breeze in some inland lake or tranquil bay, where there was 
 just difficulty of navigation sufficient to give interest and to require 
 skill, without any sensible degree of danger. So that, upon the 
 whole, Matilda, I think you should have had my father, with his 
 pride of arms and of ancestry, his chivalrous point of honour, his 
 high talents, and his abstruse and mystic studies ; — you should 
 have had Lucy Bertram, too, for your friend, whose fathers, with 
 names which alike defy memory and orthography, ruled over this 
 
OUY MANNERING. 181 
 
 romantic country, and whose birth took place, as I have been 
 indistinctly informed, under circumstances of deep and peculiar 
 interest ; — You should have had, too, our Scottish residence, 
 surrounded by mountains, and our lonely walks to haunted ruins. — 
 And I should have had, in exchange, the lawns and shrubs, and 
 green-houses, and conservatories, of Pine-park, with your good, 
 quiet, indulgent aunt, her chapel in the morning, her nap after 
 dinner, her hand at whist in the evening, not forgetting her fat 
 coach horses and fatter coachman. Take notice, however, that 
 Brown is not included in this proposed barter of mine ; his good- 
 humour, lively conversation, and open gallantry, suit my plan of 
 life, as well as his athletic form, handsome features, and high 
 spirit, would accord with a character of chivalry. So, as we cannot 
 change altogether out and out, I think we must e'en abide as we 
 are." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 I renounce your defiance ; if you parley so roughly, I '11 barricade 
 my gates against you. — Do you see yon bay window ? Storm, — 
 I care not, serving the good Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 Merry Devil of Edmonton. 
 
 Julia Mannering to Matilda Marchmont. 
 
 " I rise from a sick-bed, my dearest Matilda, to communicate 
 the strange and frightful scenes which have just passed. Alas ! 
 how little we ought to jest with futurity ! I closed my letter to you 
 in high spirits, with some flippant remarks on your taste for the 
 romantic and extraordinary in fictitious narrative. How little I 
 expected to have had such events to record in the course of a few 
 days ! And to witness scenes of terror, or to contemplate them in 
 description, is as different, my dearest Matilda, as to bend over the 
 brink of a precipice holding by tb<; frail tenure of a half-rooted 
 shrub, or to admire the same precipice as represented in the land- 
 scape of Salvator. But I will not anticipate my narrative. 
 
 " The first part of my story is frightful enough, though it had 
 nothing to interest my feelings. You must know that this country 
 is particularly favourable to the commerce of a set of desperate 
 men from the Isle of Man, which is nearly opposite. These smug- 
 glers are numerous, resolute, and formidable, and have at different 
 times become the dread of the neighbourhood when any one has 
 interfered with their contraband trade. The local magistrates 
 from timidity or worse motives, have become shy of acting against 
 them, and impunity has rendered them equally daring and des- 
 
i8z GUY MANNERING. 
 
 perate. With all this, my father, a stranger in the land, and in- 
 vested with no official authority, had, one would think, nothing to 
 do. But it must be owned, that, as he himself expresses it, he was 
 born when Mars was lord of his ascendant, and that strife and 
 bloodshed find him out in circumstances and situations the most 
 retired and pacific. 
 
 " About eleven o'clock on last Tuesday morning, while Hazle- 
 wood and my father were proposing to walk to a little lake about 
 three miles' distance, for the purpose of shooting wild ducks, and 
 while Lucy and I were busied with arranging our plan of work and 
 study for the day, we were alarmed by the sound of horses' feet, 
 advancing very fast up the avenue. The ground was hardened by 
 a severe frost, which made the clatter of the hoofs sound yet louder 
 and sharper. In a moment, two or three men, armed, mounted, 
 and each leading a spare horse loaded with packages, appeared on 
 the lawn, and, without keeping upon the road, which makes a small 
 sweep, pushed right across for the door of the house. Their ap- 
 pearance was in the utmost degree hurried and disordered, and 
 they frequently looked back like men who apprehended a close and 
 deadly pursuit. My father and Hazlewood hurried to the front 
 door to demand who they were, and what was their business. They 
 were revenue officers, they stated, who had seized these horses, 
 loaded with contraband articles, at a place about three miles off. 
 But the smugglers had been reinforced, and were now pursuing 
 them with the avowed purpose of recovering the goods, and putting 
 to death the officers who had presumed to do their duty. The men 
 said, that their horses being loaded, and the pursuers gaining 
 ground upon them, they had fled to Woodbourne, conceiving, that 
 as my father had served the king, he would not refuse to protect 
 the servants of Government, when threatened to be murdered in the 
 discharge of their duty. 
 
 " My father, to whom, in his enthusiastic feelings of military 
 loyalty, even a dog would be of importance if he came in the king's 
 name, gave prompt orders for securing the goods in the hall, arming 
 the servants, and defending the house in case it should be neces- 
 sary. Hazlewood seconded him with great spirit, and even the 
 strange animal they call Sampson stalked out of his den, and seized 
 upon a fowling,piece, which my father had laid aside, to take what 
 they call a rifle-gun, with which they shoot tigers, &c, in the East. 
 The piece went off in the awkward hands of the poor parson, and 
 very nearly shot one of the excisemen. At this unexpected and 
 involuntary explosion of his weapon, the Dominie (such is his nick- 
 name) exclaimed, ' Prodigious ! ' which is his usual ejaculation when 
 astonished. But no power could force the man to part with his 
 
GUY MANNER ING. 183 
 
 discharged piece, so they were content to let him retain it, with the 
 precaution of trusting him with no ammunition. This (excepting 
 the alarm occasioned by the report) escaped my notice at the time, 
 you may easily believe ; but in talking over the scene afterwards, 
 Hazlewood made us very merry with the Dominie's ignorant but 
 zealous valour. 
 
 " When my father had got everything into proper order for 
 defence, and his people stationed at the windows with their fire- 
 arms, he wanted to order us out of danger — into the cellar, I 
 believe — but we could not be prevailed upon to stir. Though terri- 
 fied to death, I have so much of his own spirit, that I would look 
 upon the peril which threatens us, rather than hear it rage around 
 me without knowing its nature or its progress. Lucy, looking as 
 pale as a marble statue, and keeping her eyes fixed on Hazlewood, 
 seemed not even to hear the prayers with which he conjured her to 
 leave the front of the house. But, in truth, unless the hall-door 
 should be forced, we were in little danger ; the windows being 
 almost blocked up with cushions and pillows, and, what the Dominie 
 most lamented, with folio volumes, brought hastily from the library, 
 leaving only spaces through which the defenders might fire upon 
 the assailants. 
 
 " My father had now made his dispositions, and we sat in breath- 
 less expectation in the darkened apartment, the men remaining all 
 silent upon their posts, in anxious contemplation probably of the 
 approaching danger. My father, who was quite at home in such a 
 scene, walked from one to another, and reiterated his orders, that 
 no one should presume to fire until he gave the word. Hazlewood, 
 who seemed to catch courage from his eye, acted as his aide-de- 
 camp, and displayed the utmost alertness in bearing his directions 
 from one place to another, and seeing them properly carried into 
 execution. Our force, with the strangers included, might amount 
 to about twelve men. 
 
 " At length the silence of this awful period of expectation was 
 broken by a sound, which, at a distance, was like the rushing of a 
 stream of water, but, as it approached, we distinguished the thick- 
 beating clang of a number of horses advancing very fast. I had 
 arranged a loop-hole for myself, from which I could see the ap- 
 proach of the enemy. The noise increased and came nearer, and 
 at length thirty horsemen and more rushed at once upon the lawn. 
 You never saw such horrid wretches ! Notwithstanding the se- 
 verity of the season, they were most of them stripped to their shirts 
 and trowsers, with silk handkerchiefs knotted about their beads., 
 and all well armed with carbines, pistols, and cutlasses. I, who am 
 a soldier's daughter, and accustomed to see war from my infancy,, 
 
i«4 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 was never so terrified in my life as . by the savage appearance of 
 these ruffians, their horses reeking with the speed at which they 
 had ridden, and their furious exclamations of rage and disappoint- 
 ment when they saw themselves baulked of their prey. They 
 paused, however, when they saw the preparations made to receive 
 them, and appeared to hold a moment's consultation among them- 
 selves. At length, one of the party, his face blackened with gun- 
 powder by way of disguise, came forward with a white handkerchief 
 on the end of his carbine, and asked to speak with Colonel Man- 
 nering. My father, to my infinite terror, threw open a window near 
 which he was posted, and demanded what he wanted. ' We want 
 our goods, which we have been robbed of by these sharks,' said the 
 fellow ; ' and our lieutenant bids me say, that if they are delivered, 
 we'll go off for this bout without clearing scores with the rascals 
 who took them ; but if not, we'll burn the house, and have the 
 heart's blood of every one in it ; ' — a threat which he repeated more 
 than once, graced by a fresh variety of imprecations, and the most 
 horrid denunciations that cruelty could suggest. 
 
 ' And which is your lieutenant ?' said my father in reply. 
 
 ' That gentleman on the grey horse,' said the miscreant, ' with 
 the red handkerchief bound about his brow.' 
 
 ' Then be pleased to tell that gentleman, that if he, and the 
 scoundrels who are with him, do not ride off the lawn this instant, 
 I will fire upon them without ceremony.' So saying, my father shut 
 the window, and broke short the confere'nce. 
 
 "The fellow no sooner regained his troop, than, with a loud 
 hurra, or rather a savage yell, they fired a volley against our garri- 
 son. The glass of the windows was shattered in every direction, 
 but the precautions already noticed saved the party within from 
 suffering. Three such volleys were fired without a shot being re- 
 turned from within. My father then observed them getting hatchets 
 and crows, probably to assail the hall-door, and called aloud, ' Let 
 none fire but Hazlewood and me — Hazlewood, mark the ambassa- 
 dor.' He himself aimed at the man on the grey horse, who fell on 
 receiving his shot. Hazlewood was equally successful. He shot 
 the spokesman, who had dismounted, and was advancing with an 
 axe in his hand. Their fall discouraged the rest, who began to 
 turn round their horses ; and a few shots fired at them soon sent 
 Ihem off, bearing along with them their slain or wounded com- 
 panions. We could not observe that they suffered any farther 
 loss. Shortly after their retreat, a party of soldiers made their 
 appearance, to my infinite relief. These men were quartered at a 
 village some miles distant, and had marched on the first rumour of 
 the skirmish. A part of them escorted the terrified revenue officers 
 
V 
 
 
GUY MANNERING. iBj, 
 
 and their seizure to a neighbouring seaport as a place of safety, and 
 at my earnest request two or three files remained with us for that 
 and the following day, for the security of the house from the venge- 
 ance of these banditti. 
 
 " Such, dearest Matilda, was my first alarm. I must not forget 
 to add, that the ruffians left, at a cottage on the road-side, the man 
 whose face was blackened with powder, apparently because he was 
 unable to bear transportation. He died in about half an hour after. 
 On examining the corpse, it proved to be that of a profligate boor 
 in the neighbourhood, a person notorious as a poacher and smug- 
 gler. We -received many messages of congratulation from the 
 neighbouring families, and it was generally allowed that a few such 
 instances of spirited resistance would greatly check the presump- 
 tion of these lawless men. My father distributed rewards among 
 his servants, and praised Hazlewood's courage and coolness to the 
 skies. Lucy and I came in for a share of his applause, because 
 we had stood fire with firmness, and had not disturbed him with 
 screams or expostulations. As for the Dominie, my father took an 
 opportunity of begging to exchange snuff-boxes with him. The 
 honest gentleman was much flattered with the proposal, and extolled 
 the beauty of his new snuff-box excessively. ' It looked,' he said, 
 ' as well as if it were real gold from Ophir.' — Indeed it would be 
 odd if it should not, being formed in fact of that very metal ; but, 
 to do this honest creature justice, I believe the knowledge of its real 
 value would not enhance his sense of my father's kindness, sup- 
 posing it, as he does, to be pinchbeck gilded. He has had a hard 
 task replacing the folios which were used in the barricade, smooth- 
 ing out the creases and dogs'-ears, and repairing the other disasters 
 they have sustained during their service in the fortification. He» 
 brought us some pieces of lead and bullets which these ponderous 
 tomes had intercepted during the action, and which he had ex- 
 tracted with great care ; and, were I in spirits, I could give you a 
 comic account of his astonishment at the apathy with which we 
 heard of the wounds and mutilation suffered by Thomas Aquinas, 
 or the venerable Chrysostom. But I am not in spirits, and I have 
 yet another and a more interesting incident to communicate. I 
 feel, however, so much fatigued with my present exertion, that I 
 cannot resume the pen till to-morrow. I will detain this letter not- 
 withstanding, that you may not feel any anxiety upon account of 
 your own " Julia Mannering," 
 
i35 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Here's a good world ! 
 
 Knew you of this fair work ? 
 
 King John. 
 
 Julia Mannering to Matilda Marchmont. 
 
 " I MUST take up the thread of my story, my dearest Matilda, 
 where I broke off yesterday. 
 
 " For two or three days we talked of nothing but our siege and 
 its probable consequences, and dinned into my father's unwilling 
 ears a proposal to go to Edinburgh, or at least to Dumfries, where 
 there is remarkably good society, until the resentment of these 
 outlaws should blow over. He answered with great composure, 
 that he had no mind to have his landlord's house and his own pro- 
 perty at Woodbourne destroyed ; that, with our good leave, he had 
 usually been esteemed competent to taking measures for the safety 
 or protection of his family ; that if he remained quiet at home, he 
 conceived the welcome the villains had received was not of a 
 nature to invite a second visit, but should he show any signs of alarm, 
 it would be the sure way to incur the very risk which we were afraid 
 of. Heartened by his arguments, and by the extreme indifference 
 with which he treated the supposed danger, we began to grow a 
 little bolder, and to walk about as usual. Only the gentlemen were 
 sometimes invited to take their guns when they attended us, and I 
 observed that my father for several nights paid particular attention 
 to having the house properly secured, and required his domestics 
 to keep their arms in readiness in case of necessity. 
 
 " But three days ago chanced an occurrence, of a nature which 
 alarmed me more by far than the attack of the smugglers. 
 
 " I told you there was a small lake at some distance from Wood* 
 bourne, where the gentlemen sometimes go to shoot wild-fowl. I 
 happened at breakfast to say I should like to see this place in its 
 present frozen state, occupied by skaters and curlers, as they call 
 those who play a particular sort of game upon the ice. There is snow 
 on the ground, but frozen so hard that I thought Lucy and I might 
 venture to that distance, as the footpath leading there was well 
 beaten by the repair of those who frequented it for pastime. Hazle- 
 wood instantly offered to attend us, and we stipulated that he should 
 take his fowling-piece. He laughed a good deal at the idea of going 
 a-shooting in the snow ; but, to relieve our tremors, desired that a 
 groom, who acts as gamekeeper occasionally, should follow us with 
 his gun. As for Colonel Mannering, he does not like crowds or 
 
GUY MANNERING. 187 
 
 sights of any kind where human figures make up the show., unless 
 indeed it were a military review — so he declined the party. 
 
 " We set out unusually early, on a fine frosty, exhilirating morn- 
 ing, and we felt our minds, as well as our nerves, braced by the 
 elasticity of the pure air. Our walk to the lake was delightful, or 
 at least the difficulties were only such as diverted us, a slippery 
 descent, for instance, or a frozen ditch to cross, which made Hazle- 
 wood's assistance absolutely necessary. I don't think Lucy liked 
 .her walk the less for these occasional embarrassments. 
 
 " The scene upon the lake was beautiful. One side of it is bor- 
 dered by a steep crag, from which hung a thousand enormous icicles 
 all glittering in the sun ; on the other side was a little wood, now 
 exhibiting that fantastic appearance which the pine-trees present 
 when their branches are loaded with snow. On the frozen bosom of 
 the lake itself were a multitude of moving figures, some flitting along 
 with the velocity of swallows, some sweeping in the most graceful 
 circles, and others deeply interested in a less active pastime, 
 crowding round the spot where the inhabitants of two rival parishes 
 contended for the prize at curling, — an honour of no small import- 
 ance, if we were to judge from the anxiety expressed both by the 
 players and bystanders. We walked round the ljttle lake, sup- 
 ported by Hazlewood, who lent us each an arm. He spoke, poor 
 fellow, with great kindness, to old and young, and seemed de- 
 servedly popular among the assembled crowd. At length we 
 thought of retiring. 
 
 " Why do I mention these trivial occurrences ? — not, Heaven 
 knows, from the interest I can now attach to them — but because, 
 like a drowning man who catches at a brittle twig, I seize every 
 apology for delaying the subsequent and dreadful part of my narra- 
 tive. But it must be communicated — I must have the sympathy of 
 at least one friend under this heart-rending calamity. 
 
 " We were returning home by a footpath which led through a 
 plantation of firs. Lucy had quitted Hazlewood's arm — it is only 
 the plea of absolute necessity which reconciles her to accept his 
 assistance. I still leaned upon his other arm. Lucy followed us 
 close, and the servant was two or three paces behind us. Such was 
 our position, when at once, and as if he had started out of the 
 earth, Brown stood before us at a short turn of the road ! He was 
 very plainly, I might say coarsely, dressed, and his whole appear- 
 ance had in it something wild and agitated. I screamed between 
 surprise and terror— Hazlewood mistook thenature of my alarm, and, 
 when Brown advanced towards me as if to speak, commanded him 
 haughtily to stand back, and not to alarm the lady. Brown replied, 
 with equal asperity, he had no occasion to take lessons from him 
 
188 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 how to behave to that or any other lady. I rather believe that Hazle- 
 wood, impressed with the idea that he belonged to the band of 
 smugglers, and had some bad purpose in view, heard and understood 
 him imperfectly. He snatched the gun from the servant, who had 
 come up on a line with us, and, pointing the muzzle at Brown, com- 
 manded him to stand off at his peril. My screams, for my terror 
 prevented my finding articulate language, only hastened the catas- 
 trophe. Brown, thus menaced, sprung upon Hazlewood, grappled 
 with him, and had nearly succeeded in wrenching the fowling-piece 
 from his grasp, when the gun went off in the struggle, and the contents 
 were lodged in Hazlewood's shoulder, who instantly fell. I saw no 
 more, for the whole scene reeled before my eyes, and I fainted away; 
 but, by Lucy's report, the unhappy perpetrator of this action gazed a 
 moment on the scene before him, until her screams began to alarm 
 the people upon the lake, several of whom now came in sight. He 
 then bounded over a hedge which divided the footpath from the 
 plantation, and has not since been heard of. The servant made no 
 attempt to stop or secure him, and the report he made of the 
 matter to those who came up to us, induced them rather to exercise 
 their humanity in recalling me to life, than to show their courage by 
 pursuing a desperado, described by the groom as a man of tremen- 
 dous personal strength, and completely armed. 
 
 "Hazlewood was conveyed home, that is, to Woodbourne in. 
 safety ; — I trust his wound will prove in no respect dangerous, 
 though he suffers much. But to Brown the consequences must be 
 most disastrous. He is already the object of my father's resent- 
 ment, and he has now incurred danger from the law of the country, 
 as well as from the clamorous vengeance of the father of Hazle- 
 wood, who threatens to move heaven and earth against the author 
 of his son's wound. How will he be able to shroud himself from 
 the vindictive activity of the pursuit ? how to defend himself, if 
 taken, against the severity of laws which I am told may even affect 
 his life ? and how can I find means to warn him of his danger ? 
 Then poor Lucy's ill-concealed grief, occasioned by her lover's 
 wound, is another source of distress to me, and everything round 
 me appears to bear witness against that indiscretion which has 
 occasioned this calamity. 
 
 " For two days I was very ill indeed. The news that Hazlewood 
 was recovering, and that the person who had shot him was nowhere 
 to be traced, only that for certain he was one of the leaders of the 
 gang of smugglers, gave me some comfort. The suspicion and pur- 
 suit being directed towards those people, must naturally facilitate 
 Brown's escape, and, I trust, has ere this ensured it. But patrols of 
 horse and foot traverse the country in all directions, and I am tor- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 189 
 
 tured by a thousand confused and unauthenticated rumours of 
 arrests and discoveries. 
 
 " Meanwhile, my greatest source of comfort is the generous 
 candour of Hazlewood, who persists in declaring, that with what- 
 ever intentions the person by whom he was wounded approached 
 our party, he is convinced the gun went off in the struggle by acci- 
 dent, and that the injury he received was undesigned. The groom, 
 on the other hand, maintains that the piece was wrenched out of 
 Hazlewood's hands, and deliberately pointed at his body, and Lucy 
 inclines to the same opinion. I do not suspect them of wilful ex- 
 aggeration ; yet such is the fallacy of human testimony, for the 
 unhappy shot was most unquestionably discharged unintentionally. 
 Perhaps it would be the best way to confide the whole secret to 
 Hazlewood — but he is very young, and I feel the utmost repugnance 
 to communicate to him my folly. I once thought of disclosing the 
 mystery to Lucy, and began by asking what she recollected of the 
 person and features of the man whom we had so unfortunately 
 met ; — but she ran out into such a horrid description of a hedge- 
 ruffian, that I was deprived of all courage and disposition to own 
 my attachment to one of such appearance as she attributed to him. 
 I must say Miss Bertram is strangely biassed by her preposses- 
 sions, for there are few handsomer men than poor Brown. I had 
 not seen him for a long time, and even in his strange and sudden 
 apparition on this unhappy occasion, and under every disadvantage, 
 his form seems to me, on reflection, improved in grace, and his 
 features in expressive dignity. — Shall we ever meet again ? Who 
 can answer that question? — Write to me kindly, my dearest 
 Matilda. — But when did you otherwise ? — yet, again, write to me 
 soon, and write to me kindly. I am not in a situation to profit by 
 advice or reproof, nor have I my usual spirits to parry them by rail- 
 lery. I feel the terrors of a child who has, in heedless sport, put in 
 motion some powerful piece of machinery ; and, while he beholds 
 wheels revolving, chains clashing, cylinders rolling around him, is 
 equally astonished at the tremendous powers which his weak agency 
 has called into action, and terrified for the consequences which he 
 is compelled to await, without the possibility of averting them. 
 
 " I must not omit to say that my father is very kind and affec 
 tionate. The alarm which I have received forms a sufficient 
 apology for my nervous complaints. My hopes are, that Brown 
 has made his escape into the sister kingdom of England, or perhaps 
 to Ireland, or the Isle of Man. In either case, he may wait the 
 issue of Hazlewood's wound with safety and with patience, for the 
 communication of these countries with Scotland, for the purpose of 
 justice is not (thank Heaven) of an intimate nature. The conse- 
 
190 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 quences of his being apprehended would be terrible at this moment. 
 I endeavour to strengthen my mind by arguing against the possi- 
 bility of such a calamity. Alas ! how soon have sorrows and fears, 
 real as well as severe, followed the uniform and tranquil state of 
 existence at which so lately I was disposed to repine ! But I will 
 not oppress you any longer with my complaints. Adieu, my dearest 
 Matilda ! " Julia Mannering." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. — Look with 
 thine ears : See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark 
 in thine ear — Change places ; and, handy-dandy, which is the 
 justice, which is the thief? — King Lear. 
 
 Among those who took the most lively interest in endeavouring 
 to discover the person by whom young Charles Hazlewood had 
 been waylaid and wounded, was Gilbert Glossin, Esquire, late 
 
 writer in , now Laird of Ellangowan, and one of the worshipful 
 
 commission of justices of the peace for the county of . His 
 
 motives for exertion on this occasion were manifold ; but we pre- 
 sume that our readers, from what they already know of this gentle- 
 man, will acquit him of being actuated by any zealous or intempe- 
 rate love of abstract justice. 
 
 The truth was, that this respectable personage felt himself less at 
 ease than he had expected, after his machinations put him in 
 possession of his benefactor's estate. His reflections within doors, 
 where so much occurred to remind him of former times, were not 
 always the self-congratulations of successful stratagem. And when 
 he looked abroad, he could not but be sensible that he was excluded 
 from the society of the gentry of the county, to whose rank he con- 
 ceived he had raised himself. He was not admitted to their clubs, 
 and at meetings of a public nature, from which he could not be alto- 
 gether excluded, he found himself thwarted and looked upon with 
 coldness and contempt. Both principle and prejudice co-operated 
 in creating this dislike ; for the gentlemen of the county despised 
 him for the lowness of his birth, while they hated him for the 
 means by which he had raised his fortune. With the common 
 people his reputation stood still worse. They would neither yield 
 him the territorial appellation of Ellangowan, nor the usual compli- 
 ment of Mr. Glossin ; — with them he was bare Glossin, and so 
 incredibly was his vanity interested by this trifling circumstance, 
 that he was known to give half-a-crown to a beggar, because he 
 had thrice called him Ellangowan, in beseeching him for a penny. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 191 
 
 He therefore felt acutely the general want of respect, and particu- 
 larly when he contrasted his own character and reception in society 
 with those of Mr. Mac-Moflatt, who, in far inferior worldly circum- 
 stances, was beloved and respected both by rich and poor, and was 
 slowly, but securely laying the foundation of a moderate fortune, with 
 the general good-will and esteem of all who knew him. 
 
 Glossin, while he repined internally at what he would fain have 
 called the prejudices and prepossessions of the country, was too 
 wise to make any open complaint. He was sensible his elevation 
 was too recent to be immediately forgotten, and the means by which 
 he had attained it too Odious to be soon forgiven. But time (thought 
 he) diminishes wonder and palliates misconduct. With the dex- 
 terity, therefore, of one who made his fortune by studying the weak 
 points of human nature, he determined to lie by for opportunities to 
 make himself useful even to those who most disliked him ; trusting 
 that his own abilities, the disposition of country gentlemen to get 
 into quarrels, when a lawyer's advice becomes precious, and a thou- 
 sand other contingencies, of which, with patience and address, he 
 doubted not to be able to avail himself, would soon place him in a 
 more important and respectable light to his neighbours, and perhaps 
 raise him to the eminence sometimes attained by a shrewd, worldly, 
 bustling man of business, when, settled among a generation of 
 country gentlemen, he becomes, in Burns's language, 
 
 " The tongue of the trump to them a'." * 
 
 The attack on Colonel Mannering's house, followed by the acci- 
 dent of Hazlewood's wound, appeared to Glossin a proper oppor. 
 tunity to impress upon the country at large the service which could 
 be rendered by an active magistrate (for he had been in the com- 
 mission for some time), well acquainted with the law, and no less 
 so with the haunts and habits of the illicit traders. He had acquired 
 the latter kind of experience by a former close alliance with some 
 of the most desperate smugglers, in consequence of which he had 
 occasionally acted, sometimes as partner, sometimes as legal 
 adviser, with these persons. But the connexion had been dropped 
 many years ; nor, considering how short the race of eminent cha- 
 racters of this description, and the frequent circumstances which 
 occur to make them retire from particular scenes of action, had he 
 the least reason to think that his present researches could possibly 
 compromise any old friend who might possess means of retaliation. 
 The having been concerned in these practices abstractedly, was a 
 circumstance, which, according to his opinion, ought in no respect 
 to interfere with his now using his experience in behalf of the public, 
 or rather to further his own private views. To acquire the good 
 
>92 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 opinion and countenance of Colonel Mannering would be no small 
 object to a gentleman who was much disposed to escape from 
 Coventry ; and to gain the favour of old Hazlewood, who was a 
 leading man in the county, was of more importance still. Lastly, if 
 he should succeed in discovering, apprehending, and convicting the 
 culprits, he would have the satisfaction of mortifying, and in some 
 degree disparaging, Mac-Morlan, to whom, as Sheriff-substitute of 
 the county, this sort of investigation properly belonged, and who 
 would certainly suffer in public opinion, should the voluntary exer- 
 tions of Glossin be more successful than his own. 
 
 Actuated by motives so stimulating, and well acquainted with 
 the lower retainers of the law, Glossin set every spring in motion to 
 detect and apprehend, if possible, some of the gang who had 
 attacked Woodbourne, and more particularly the individual who 
 had wounded Charles Hazlewood. He promised high rewards, he 
 suggested various schemes, and used his personal interest among 
 his old acquaintances who favoured the trade, urging that they had 
 better make sacrifice of an understrapper or two, than incur the 
 odium of having favoured such atrocious proceedings. But for 
 some time all these exertions were in vain. The common people 
 of the country either favoured or feared the smugglers too much to 
 afford any evidence against them. At length, this busy magistrate 
 obtained information, that a man, having the dress and appearance 
 of the person who had wounded Hazlewood, had lodged on the 
 evening before the rencontre at the Gordon-arms in Kippletringan. 
 Thither Mr. Glossin immediately went, for the purpose of interro- 
 gating our old acquaintance, Mrs. Mac-Candlish. 
 
 The reader may remember that Mr. Glossin did not, according 
 to this good woman's phrase, stand high in her books. She there- 
 fore attended his summons to the parlour slowly and reluctantly, 
 and, on entering the room, paid her respects in the coldest possible 
 manner. The dialogue then proceeded as follows : — 
 
 "A fine frosty morning, Mrs. Mac-Candlish." 
 
 " Ay, sir ; the morning's weel eneugh," answered the landlady, 
 drily. 
 
 " Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I wish to know if the justices are to dine 
 here as usual after the business of the court on Tuesday ? " 
 
 " I believe — I fancy sae, sir — as usual " — (about to leave the 
 room). 
 
 " Stay a moment, Mrs. Mac-Candlish — why, you are in a prodi- 
 gious hurry, my good friend ! — I have been thinking a club dining 
 here once a month would be a very pleasant thing." 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; a club of respectable gentlemen." 
 
 "True, true," said Glossin, " I mean landed proprietors and gen- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 193 
 
 tlemen of weight in the county ; and I should like to set such a 
 thing a-going." 
 S The short dry cough with which Mrs. Mac-Candlish received this 
 proposal, by no means indicated any dislike to the overture ab- 
 stractedly considered, but inferred much doubt how far it would 
 succeed under the auspices of the gentleman by whom it was pro- 
 posed. It was not a cough negative, but a cough dubious, and as 
 such Glossin felt it ; but it was not his cue to take offence. 
 
 " Have there been brisk doings on the road, Mrs. Mac-Candlish ? 
 plenty of company, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Pretty weel, sir, — but I believe I am wanted at the bar." 
 
 " No, no, — stop one moment, cannot you, to oblige an old cus- 
 tomer ? — Pray, do you remember a remarkably tall young man, who 
 lodged one night in your house last week ? " 
 
 " Troth, sir, I canna weel say — I never take heed whether my 
 company be lang or short, if they make a lang bill." 
 
 " And if they do not, you can do that for them, eh, Mrs. Mac- 
 Candlish ? — ha ! ha ! ha ! — But this young man that I inquire after 
 was upwards of six feet high, had a dark frock, with metal buttons, 
 light-brown hair unpowdered, blue eyes, and a straight nose, tra- 
 velled on foot, had no servant or baggage — you surely can remember 
 having seen such a traveller ? " 
 
 " Indeed, sir," answered Mrs. Mac-Candlish, bent on baffling his 
 inquiries, " I canna charge my memory about the matter — there's 
 mair to do in a house like this, I trow, than to look after passengers' 
 hair, or their een, or noses either." 
 
 " Then, Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I must tell you in plain terms, that 
 this person is suspected of having been guilty of a crime ; and it is 
 in consequence of these suspicions that I, as a magistrate, require 
 this information from you, — and if you refuse to answer my ques- 
 tions, I must put you upon your oath." 
 
 "Troth, sir, I am no free to swear* — we ay gaed to the Anti- 
 burgher meeting — it's very true, in Bailie Mac-Candlish's time 
 (honest man), we keepit the kirk, whilk was most seemly in his 
 station, as having office — but after his being called to abetter place 
 than Kippletringan, I hae gaen back to worthy Maister Mac- 
 Grainer. And so ye see, sir, I am no clear to swear without speaking 
 to the minister — especially against ony sackless puir young thing 
 that's gaun through the country", stranger and freendless like." 
 
 " I shall relieve your scruples, perhaps, without troubling Mr. 
 Mac-Grainer, when I tell you that this fellow whom I inquire after 
 is the man who shot your young friend Charles Hazlewood." 
 
 " Gudeness ! wha could hae thought the like o' that o' him ? — 
 H a, if it had been for debt, or e'en for a bit tuilzie wi' the gauger, 
 
 N 
 
194 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 the deil o' Nelly Mac-Candlish's tongue should ever hae wranged 
 him. But if he really shot young Hazlewood — But I canna think 
 it, Mr. Glossin ; this will be some o' your skits [tricks] now— I 
 canna think it o' sae douce a lad ; — na, na, this is just some o' your 
 old skits. — Ye'll be for having a horning or a caption after him." 
 
 " I see you have no confidence in me, Mrs. Mac-Candlish ; but 
 look at these declarations, signed by the person who saw the crime 
 committed, and judge yourself if the description of the ruffian be 
 not that of your guest." 
 
 He put the papers into her hand, which she perused very care- 
 fully, often taking off her spectacles to cast her eyes up to Heaven, 
 or perhaps to wipe a tear from them, for young Hazlewood was an 
 especial favourite with the good dame. " Aweel, aweel," she said, 
 when she had concluded her examination, " since it's e'en sae, I 
 gie him up, the villain — But O, we are erring mortals ! — I never saw 
 a face I liked better, or a lad that was mair douce and canny — I 
 thought he had been some gentleman under trouble. — But I gie him 
 up, the villain ! — to shoot Charles Hazlewood — and before the yqung 
 ladies, — poor innocent things I — I gie him up." 
 
 " So you admit, then, that such a person lodged here the night 
 before this vile business ? " 
 
 " Troth did he, sir, and a' the house were taen wi' him, he was sic 
 a frank, pleasant young man. It wasna for his spending, I'm sure, 
 for he just had a mutton-chop, and a mug of ale, and maybe a glass 
 or twa o' wine — and I asked him to drink tea wi' mysell, and didna 
 put that into the bill ; and he took nae supper, for he said he was 
 defeat wi' travel a' the night afore — I dare say now it Ijad been on 
 some hellicat errand or other." 
 
 " Did you by any chance learn his name ?" 
 
 " I wot weel did I," said the landlady, now as eager to communi- 
 cate her evidence as formerly desirous to suppress it. " He tell'd 
 me his name was Brown, and he said it was likely that an auld 
 woman like a gipsy wife might be asking for him. Ay, ay ! tell me 
 your company, and I'll tell you wha ye are ! O the villain ! — Aweel, 
 sir, when he gaed away in the morning, he paid his bill very 
 honestly, and gae something to the chambermaid, nae doubt, for 
 Grizy has naething frae me, by twa pair o' new shoon ilka year, 
 
 and maybe a bit compliment at Hansel Monanday'' HereGlossin 
 
 found it necessary to interfere, and bring the good woman back to 
 the point. 
 
 " Ou than, he just said, if there comes such a person to inquire 
 after Mr. Brown, you will say I am gone to look at the skaters on 
 Loch Creeran, as you call it, and I will be back here to dinner— 
 But he never came back— though I expected him sae faithfully, 
 
GUY MANNERING. I&S 
 
 that I gae a look to making the friar's chicken mysell, and to the 
 crappit-heads too, and that's what I dinna do for ordinary, Mr. 
 Glossin — But little did I think what skating wark he was gaun 
 about — to shoot Mr. Charles, the innocent lamb 1" 
 
 Mr. Glossin, having, like a prudent examinator, suffered his 
 witness to give vent to all her surprise and indignation, now began 
 to inquire whether the suspected person had left any property or 
 papers about the inn. 
 
 " Troth, he put a parcel — a sma' parcel, under my charge, and 
 he gave me some siller, and desired me to get him half-a-dozen 
 ruffled sarks, and Peg Pasley's in hands wi' them e'en now — they 
 may serve him to gang up the Lawn-market* in, the scoundrel ! " 
 Mr. Glossin then demanded to see the packet, but here mine hostess 
 demurred. 
 
 " She didna ken — she wad not say but justice should take its 
 course — but when a thing was trusted to ane in her way, doubtless 
 they were responsible — but she suld cry in Deacon Bearcliff, and if 
 Mr. Glossin liked to tak an inventar o' the property, and gie her a 
 receipt before the Deacon — or, what she wad like muckle better, an 
 it could be sealed up and left in Deacon Bearcliff's hands, it wad 
 mak her mind easy — she was for naething but justice on a' sides." 
 
 Mrs. Mac-Candlish's natural sagacity and acquired suspicion 
 being inflexible, Glossin sent for Deacon Bearcliff, to speak " anent 
 the villain that had shot Mr. Charles Hazlewood." The Deacon 
 accordingly made his appearance, with his wig awry, owing to the 
 hurry with which, at this summons of the Justice, he had exchanged 
 it for the Kilmarnock-cap in which he usually attended his cus- 
 tomers. Mrs. Mac-Candlish then produced the parcel deposited 
 with her by Brown, in which was found the gipsy's purse. On per- 
 ceiving the value of the miscellaneous contents, Mrs. Mac-Candlish 
 internally congratulated herself upon the precautions she had taken 
 before delivering them up to Glossin, while he, with an appearance 
 of disinterested candour, was the first to propose they should be 
 properly inventoried, and deposited with Deacon Bearcliff, until 
 they should be sent to the Crown-office. " He did not," he said, 
 " like to be personally responsible for articles which seemed of con- 
 siderable value, and had doubtless been acquired by the most 
 nefarious practices." 
 
 He then examined the paper in which the purse had been wrapt 
 up. It was the back of a letter addressed to V. Brown, Esquire, 
 but the rest of the address was torn away. The landlady, — now as 
 eager to throw light upon the criminal's escape as she had formerly 
 been desirous of withholding it, for the miscellaneous contents of 
 the purse argued strongly to her mind that all was not right, — Mrs. 
 
 N 3 
 
i 9 6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 Mac-Candlish, I say, now gave Glossin to understand, that her 
 postilion and hostler had both seen the straager upon the ice that 
 day when young Hazlewood was wounded. 
 
 Our readers' old acquaintance, Jock Jabos, was first summoned, 
 and admitted frankly that he had seen and conversed upon the ice 
 that morning with a stranger, who, he understood, had lodged at 
 the Gordon- Arms the night before. 
 
 " What turn did your conversation take ?" said Glossin. 
 
 " Turn ? — ou, we turned nae gate at a', but just keepit straight 
 forward upon the ice like." 
 
 " Well, but what did ye speak about ?" 
 
 " Ou, he just asked questions like ony ither stranger," answered 
 the postilion, possessed, as it seemed, with the refractory and un- 
 communicative spirit which had left his mistress. 
 
 " But about what ?" said Glossin. 
 
 " Ou, just about the folk that was playing at the curling, and 
 about auld Jock Stevenson that was at the cock, and about the 
 leddies, and sic like." 
 
 " What ladies ? and what did he ask about them, Jock ?" said 
 the interrogator. 
 
 " What leddies ? ou, it was Miss Jowlia Mannering and Miss 
 Lucy Bertram, that ye ken fu' weel yoursell, Mr. Glossin — they 
 were walking wi' the young Laird of Hazlewood upon the ice." 
 
 " And what did you tell him about them ?" demanded Glossin. 
 
 " Tut, we just said that was Miss Lucy Bertram of Ellangowan, 
 that should ance have had a great estate in the country,— and that 
 was Miss Jowlia Mannering, that was to be married to young 
 Hazlewood — See as she was hinging on his arm. We just spoke 
 about our country clashes like— he was a very frank man." 
 
 " Well, and what did he say in answer ? " 
 
 " Ou, he just stared at the young leddies very keen like, and 
 asked if it was for certain that the marriage was to t>e between 
 Miss Mannering and young Hazlewood— and I answered him that 
 it was for positive and absolute certain, as I had an undoubted 
 right to say sae — for my third cousin Jean Clavers (she's a relation 
 o' your ain, Mr. Glossin, ye wad ken Jean lang syne ?) she's sib to 
 the housekeeper at Woodbourne, and she's tell'd me mair than 
 ance that there was naething could be mair likely." 
 
 " And what did the stranger say when you told him all this ?" 
 said Glossin. 
 
 " Say ?" echoed the postilion, " he said naething at a' — he just 
 stared at them as they walked round the loch upon the ice, as if he 
 could have eaten them, and he never took his ee aff them, or said 
 anit^er word, or gave anither glance at the Bon-spiel, though there 
 
GUY MANNERING. 197 
 
 was the finest fun amang the curlers ever was seen — and he turned 
 round and gaed aff the loch by the kirk-stile through Woodbourne 
 fir-plantings, and we saw nae mair o' him." 
 
 " Only think," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, " what a hard heart he 
 maun hae had, to think o' hurting the poor young gentleman in the 
 very presence of the leddy he was to be married to !" 
 
 " O, Mrs. Mac-Candlish," said Glossin, " there's been many cases 
 such as that on the record — doubtless he was seeking revenge 
 where it would be deepest and sweetest." 
 
 " God pity us ! " said Deacon Bearcliff ; "we're puir frail creatures 
 when left to oursells ! — ay, he forgot wha said, ' Vengeance is mine, 
 and I will repay it.' " 
 
 " Weel, aweel, sirs,'' said Jabos, whose hard-headed and uncul- 
 tivated shrewdness seemed sometimes to start the game when 
 others beat the bush — " Weel, weel, ye may be a' mista'en yet — I'll 
 never believe that a man would lay a plan to shoot anither wi' his 
 ain gun. Lord help ye, I was the keeper's assistant down at the 
 Isle mysell, and I'll uphaud it, the biggest man in Scotland 
 shouldna take a gun frae me or I had weized the slugs through 
 him, though I'm but sic a little feckless body, fit for naething but 
 the outside o' a saddle and the fore-end of a poschay — na, na, nae 
 living man wad venture on that. Ill wad my best buckskins, and 
 they were new coft at Kirkcudbright fair, it's been a chance job 
 after a'. But if ye hae naething mair to say to me, I am thinking I 
 maun gang and see my beasts fed." and he departed accordingly. 
 
 The hostler, who had accompanied him, gave evidence to the 
 same purpose. He and Mrs. Mac-Candlish were then re-interro- 
 gated, whether Brown had no arms with him on that unhappy 
 morning. " None," they said, " but an ordinary bit cutlass or 
 hanger by his side." 
 
 " Now," said the Deacon, taking Glossin by the button (for, in 
 considering this intricate subject, he had forgot Glossin's new 
 accession of rank) — " this is but doubtfu' after a', Maister Gilbert 
 — for it was not sae dooms likely that he would go down into battle 
 wi' sic sma' means." 
 
 Glossin extricated himself from the Deacon's grasp, and from 
 the discussion, though not with rudeness ; for it was his present 
 interest to buy golden opinions from all sorts of people. He in- 
 quired the price of tea and sugar, and spoke of providing himself 
 for the year ; he gave Mrs. Mac-Candlish directions to have a 
 handsome entertainment in readiness for a party of five friends, 
 whom he intended to invite to dine with him at the Gordon-Arms 
 next Saturday week ; and, lastly, he gave a half-crown to Jock 
 Jabos, whom the hostler had deputed to hold his steed 
 
igS GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Weel," said the Deacon to Mrs. Mac-Candlish, as he accepted 
 her offer of a glass of bitters at the bar, " the deil's no sae ill as 
 he's ca'd. It's pleasant to see a gentleman pay the regard to the 
 business o' the county that Mr. Glossin does." 
 
 " Ay> 'deed is't, Deacon," answered the landlady ; " and yet I 
 wonder our gentry leave their ain wark to the like o' him. — But as 
 lang as siller's current, Deacon, folk maunna look ower nicely at 
 what king's head's orft." 
 
 " I doubt Glossin will prove but shand* after a', mistress," said 
 Jabos, as he passed through the little lobby beside the bar; "but 
 this is a gude half-crown ony way." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 A man that apprehends death to be no more dreadful but as a 
 drunken sleep ; careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, 
 present, or to come ; insensible of mortality, and desperately 
 mortal. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 GLOSSIN had made careful minutes of the information derived 
 from these examinations. They threw little light upon the story, 
 so far as he understood its purport ; but the better informed reader 
 has received, through means of this investigation, an account of 
 Brown's proceedings, between the moment when we left him upon 
 his walk to Kippletringan, and the time when, stung by jealousy, 
 he so rashly and unhappily presented himself before Julia Man- 
 nering, and well-nigh brought to a fatal termination the quarrel 
 which his appearance occasioned. 
 
 Glossin rode slowly back to Ellangowan, pondering on what he 
 had heard, and more and more convinced that the active and suc- 
 cessful prosecution of this mysterious business was an opportunity 
 of ingratiating himself with Hazlewood and Mannering, to be on 
 no account neglected. Perhaps, also, he felt his professional acute- 
 ness interested in bringing it to a successful close. It was, there- 
 fore, with great pleasure, that on his return to "his house from 
 Kippletringan, he heard his servants announce hastily, "that Mac- 
 Guffog, the thief-taker, and twa or three concurrents, had a man in 
 hands in the kitchen waiting for his honour." 
 
 He instantly jumped from horseback, and hastened into the 
 house. " Send my clerk here directly ; ye'll find him copying the 
 survey of the estate in the little green parlour. Set things to rights 
 in my study, and wheel the great leathern chair up to the writing- 
 table— set a stool for Mr. Scrow. — Scrow," (to the clerk, as he 
 
GUY MANNERING. 199 
 
 entered the presence chamber); " hand down Sir George Mackenzie 
 on Crimes ; open it at the section Vis Publico, et Privata, and fold 
 down a leaf at the passage ' anent the bearing of unlawful weapons.' 
 Now lend me a hand off with my muckle-coat, and hang it up in 
 the lobby, and bid them bring up the prisoner — I'll trow I'll sort 
 him ; — but stay, first send up Mac-Guffog.— Now, Mac-Guffog, 
 where did ye find this chield ?" 
 
 Mac-Guffog, a stout bandy-legged fellow, with a neck like a bull, 
 a face like a firebrand, and a most portentous squint of the left 
 eye, began, after various contortions by way of courtesy to the 
 Justice, to tell his story, eking it out by sundry sly hods and know- 
 ing winks, which appeared to bespeak an intimate correspondence 
 of ideas between the narrator and his principal auditor. " Your 
 honour sees I went down to yon place that your honour spoke o', 
 that's kept by her that your honour kens o', by the sea-side. — So 
 says she, what are you wanting here ? ye'll be come wi' a broom in 
 your pocket frae Ellangowan ? — So says I, deil a broom will come 
 frae there awa, for ye ken, says I, his honour Ellangowan himsell 
 in former times " 
 
 " Well, well," said Glossin, " no occasion to be particular, tell the 
 essentials." 
 
 " Weel, so we sat niffering about some brandy that I said I 
 wanted, till he came in." 
 
 " Who ?" 
 
 " He," pointing with his thumb inverted to the kitchen, where 
 the prisoner was in custody. " So he had his griego wrapped close 
 round him, and I judged he was not dry-handed* — so I thought it 
 was best to speak proper, and so he believed I was a Manks man, 
 and I kept ay between him and her, for fear she had whistled.* 
 And then we began to drink about, and then I betted he would 
 not drink out a quartern of Hollands without drawing breath — and 
 then he tried it — and just then Slounging Jock and Dick Spur'em 
 came in, and we clinked the darbies* on him, took him as quiet as 
 a lamb — and now he's had his bit sleep out, and is as fresh as a 
 May gowan, to answer what your honour likes to speir." This 
 narrative, delivered with a wonderful quantity of gesture and 
 grimace, received at the conclusion the thanks and praises which 
 the narrator expected. 
 
 " Had he no arms ?" asked the Justice. 
 
 " Ay, ay, they are never without barkers and slashers." 
 
 "Any papers?" 
 
 " This bundle,'' delivering a dirty pocket-book. 
 
 " Go down stairs, then, Mac-Guffog, and be in waiting." The 
 officer left the room. 
 
mm GUY MANNERING. 
 
 The clink of irons was immediately afterwards heard upon the 
 stair, and in two or three minutes a man was introduced, hand- 
 cuffed and fettered. He was thick, brawny, and muscular, and 
 although his shagged and grizzled hair marked an age somewhat 
 advanced, and his stature was rather low, he appeared, neverthe- 
 less, a person whom few would have chosen to cope with in per- 
 sonal conflict. His coarse and savage features were still flushed, 
 and his eye still reeled under the influence of the strong potation 
 which had proved the immediate cause of his seizure. But the 
 sleep, though short, which Mac-Guffog had allowed him, and still 
 more a sense of the peril of his situation, had restored to him the 
 full use of his faculties. The worthy judge, and the no less esti- 
 mable captive, looked at each other steadily for a long time without 
 speaking. Glossin apparently recognised his prisoner, but seemed 
 at a loss how to proceed with his investigation. At length he 
 broke silence. " Soh, Captain, this is you ? — you have been a 
 stranger on this coast for some years.'' 
 
 "Stranger!" replied the other; "strange enough, I think — for 
 hold me der deyvil, if I been ever here before." 
 
 " That won't pass, Mr. Captain." 
 
 " That must pass, Mr. Justice — sapperment !" 
 
 " And who will you be pleased to call yourself, then, for the 
 present," said Glossin, "just until I shall bring some other folks to 
 refresh your memory concerning who you are, or at least who you 
 have been?" 
 
 "What bin I ? — donner and blitzen! I bin Jans Janson, from 
 Cuxhaven — what sail Ich bin?" 
 
 Glossin took from a case which was in the apartment a pair of 
 small pocket pistols, which he loaded with ostentatious care. 
 "You may retire," said he to his clerk, "and carry the people with 
 you, Scrow — but wait in the lobby within call." 
 
 The clerk would have offered some remonstrances to his patron 
 on the danger of remaining alone with such a desperate character, 
 although ironed beyond the possibility of active exertion, but 
 Glossin waved him off impatiently. When he had left the room, 
 the Justice took two short turns through the apartment, then drew 
 his chair opposite to the prisoner, so as to confront him fully, 
 placed the pistols before him in readiness, and said in a steady 
 voice, "You are Dirk Hatteraick of Flushing, are you not?" 
 
 The prisoner turned his eye instinctively to the door, as if he 
 apprehended some one was listening. Glossin rose, opened the 
 door, so that from the chair in which his prisoner sate he might 
 satisfy himself there was no eavesdropper within hearing, then shut 
 it, resumed his seat, and repeated his question, "You are Dirk 
 
GUY MANNERING. 20I5 
 
 Hatteraick, formerly of the Yungfrauw Haagenslaapen, are you 
 not?" 
 
 "Tousand deyvils !— and if you know that, why ask me?" said 
 the prisoner. 
 
 " Because I am surprised to see you in the very last place where 
 you ought to be, if you regard your safety," observed Glossin, 
 coolly. 
 
 " Der deyvil 1 — no man regards his own safety that speaks so 
 tome!" 
 
 "What? unarmed, and in irons !— well said, Captain!" replied 
 Glossin, ironically. " But, Captain, bullying won't do— you'll hardly 
 get out of this country without accounting for a little accident that 
 happened at Warroch Point a few years ago." 
 
 Hatteraick's looks grew black as midnight. 
 
 "For my part," continued Glossin, " I have no particular wish 
 to be hard upon an old acquaintance — but I must do my duty — I 
 shall send you off to Edinburgh in a post-chaise and four this 
 very day." 
 
 "Poz donner! you would not do that?" said Hatteraick, in a 
 lower and more humbled tone; "why, you had the matter of half a 
 cargo in bills on Vanbeest and Vanbruggen." 
 
 " It is so long since, Captain Hatteraick," answered Glossin, 
 superciliously, " that I really forget how I was recompensed for my 
 trouble." 
 
 " Your trouble ? your silence, you mean." 
 
 " It was an affair in the course of business," said Glossin, " and 
 I have retired from business for some time." 
 
 " Ay, but I have a notion that I could make you go steady about, 
 and try the old course again," answered Dirk Hatteraick. " Why 
 man, hold me der deyvil, but I meant to visit you, and tell you 
 something that concerns you." 
 
 " Of the boy?" said Glossin, eagerly. 
 
 " Yaw, Mynheer," replied the Captain, coolly. 
 
 " He does not live, does he ?" 
 
 " As lifelich as you or I," said Hatteraick. 
 
 " Good God ! — But in India?" exclaimed Glossin. 
 
 " No — tousand deyvils ! here ! on this dirty coast of yours," re- 
 joined the prisoner. 
 
 " But, Hatteraick, this, — that is, if it be true, which I do not 
 believe, — this will ruin us both, for he cannot but remember your 
 neat job; and for me — it will be productive of the worst conse- 
 quences ! It will ruin us both, I tell you." 
 
 " I tell you," said the seaman, " it will ruin none but you — for I 
 am done up already, and if I must strap for it, all shall out." 
 
202 GUY MANNERING.- 
 
 " Zounds!" said the Justice impatiently, "what brought you 
 back to this coast like a madman ?" 
 
 "Why, all the gelt was gone, and the house was shaking, and I 
 thought the job was clayed over and forgotten," answered the 
 worthy skipper. 
 
 " Stay — what can be done ?" said Glossin, anxiously. " I dare 
 not discharge you — but might you not be rescued in the way — ay 
 sure? a word to Lieutenant Brown, — and I would send the people 
 with you by the coast-road." 
 
 " No, no ! that won't do — Brown's dead— shot— laid in the locker, 
 man — the devil has the picking of him." 
 
 "Dead? — shot? — at Woodbourne, I suppose?" replied Glossin. 
 
 "Yaw, Mynheer." 
 
 Glossin paused— the sweat broke upon his brow with the agony 
 of his feelings, while the hard-featured miscreant who sat opposite, 
 coolly rolled his tobacco in his cheek, and squirted the juice into 
 the fire-grate. " It would be ruin," said Glossin to himself, " abso- 
 lute ruin, if the heir should re-appear — and then what might be 
 the consequence of conniving with these men? — yet there is so 
 little time to take measures — Hark you, Hatteraick; I can't set 
 you at liberty — but I can put you where you may set yourself at 
 liberty — I always like to assist an old friend. I shall confine you 
 in the old castle for to-night, and give these people double allow- 
 ance of grog. Mac-Guffog will fall in the trap in which he caught 
 you. The stancheons on the window of the strong room, as they 
 call it, are wasted to pieces, and it is not above twelve feet from the 
 level of the ground without, and the snow lies thick." 
 
 " But the darbies," said Hatteraick, looking upon his fetters. 
 
 " Hark ye," said Glossin, going to a tool chest, and taking out a 
 small file, " there's a friend for you, and you know the road to the 
 sea by the stairs." 
 
 Hatteraick shook his chains in ecstacy, as if he were already at 
 liberty, and strove to extend his fettered hand towards his pro- 
 tector. Glossin laid his finger upon his lips with a cautious glance 
 at the door, and then proceeded in his instructions. " When you 
 escape, you had better go to the Kaim of Derncleugh." 
 
 " Donner ! that howff is blown." 
 
 " The devil ! — well, then, you may steal my skiff that lies on the 
 beach there, and away. But you must remain snug at the Point of 
 Warroch till I come to see you." 
 
 "The Point of Warroch?" said Hatteraick, his countenance 
 again falling — "what, in the cave, I suppose? — I would rather it 
 were anywhere else ; — es spuckt da ! — they say for certain tha!; he 
 walks — But, donner and blitzen ! I never shunned him alive, and 
 
GUY MANNERING. 203 
 
 I won't shun him dead — Strafe mich helle ! it shall never be said 
 Dirk Hatteraick feared either dog or devil ! — So I am to wait there 
 till I see you ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay," answered Glossin, " and now I must call in the men." 
 He did so accordingly. 
 
 " I can make nothing of Captain Janson, as he calls himself, 
 Mac-Guffog, and it's now too late to bundle him off to the county 
 jail. Is there not a strong room up yonder in the old castle ?" 
 
 "Ay is there, sir; my uncle the constable ance kept a man 
 there for three days in auld Ellangowan's time. But there was an 
 unco dust about it — it was tried in the Inner-hoiise afore the 
 feifteen." 
 
 " I know all that, but this person will not stay there very long — 
 it's only a makeshift for a night, a mere lock-up house till farther 
 examination. There is a small room through which it opens ; you 
 may light a fire for yourselves there, and I'll send you plenty of 
 stuff to make you comfortable. But be sure you lock the door 
 upon the prisoner ; and, hark ye, let him have a fire in the strong 
 room too, the season requires it. Perhaps he'll make a clean 
 breast to-morrow." 
 
 With these instructions, and with a large allowance of food and 
 liquor, the Justice dismissed his party to keep guard for the night 
 in the old castle, under the full hope and belief that they would 
 neither spend the night in watching nor prayer. 
 
 There was little fear that Glossin himself should that night sleep 
 over-sound. His situation was perilous in the extreme, for the 
 schemes of a life of villany seemed at once to be crumbling around 
 and above him. He laid himself to rest, and tossed upon his 
 pillow for a long time in vain. At length he fell asleep, but it was 
 only to dream of his patron,— now, as he had last seen him, with 
 the paleness of death upon his features, then again transformed 
 into all the vigour and comeliness of youth, approaching to expel 
 him from the mansion-house of his fathers. Then he dreamed, 
 that after wandering long over a wild heath, he came at length to 
 an inn, from which sounded the voice of revelry ; and that when 
 he entered, the first person he met was Frank Kennedy, all 
 smashed and gory, as he had lain on the beach at Warroch Point, 
 but with a reeking punch-bowl in his hand. Then the scene 
 changed to a dungeon, where he heard Dirk Hatteraick, whom he 
 imagined to be under sentence of death, confessing his crimes to 
 a clergyman. — " After the bloody deed was done," said the peni- 
 tent, " we retreated into a cave close beside, the secret of which 
 was known but to one man in the country; we were debating what 
 to do with the child, and we thought of giving it up to the gipsies, 
 
204 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 when we heard the cries of the pursuers hallooing to each other. 
 One man alone came straight to our cave, and it was that man 
 who knew the secret — but we made him our friend at the expense 
 of half the value of the goods saved. By his advice we carried off 
 the child to Holland in our consort, which came the following night 
 to take us from the coast. That man was" 
 
 " No, I deny it !— it was not I !" said Glossin, in half-uttered 
 accents ; and, struggling in his agony to express his denial more 
 distinctly, he awoke. 
 
 It was, however, conscience that had prepared this mental 
 phantasmagoria. The truth was, that knowing much better than 
 any other person the haunts of the smugglers, he had, while the 
 others were searching in different directions, gone straight to the 
 cave, even before he had learned the murder of Kennedy, whom 
 he expected to find their prisoner. He came upon them with some 
 idea of mediation, but found them in the midst of their guilty 
 terrors, while the rage, which had hurried them on to murder, 
 began, with all but Hatteraick, to sink into remorse and fear. 
 Glossin was then indigent, and greatly in debt, but he was already 
 possessed of Mr. Bertram's ear, and, aware of the facility of his 
 disposition, he saw no difficulty in enriching himself at his ex- 
 pense, provided the heir-male were removed; in which case the 
 estate became the unlimited property of the weak and prodigal 
 father. Stimulated by present gain and the prospect of contingent 
 advantage, he accepted the bribe, which the smugglers offered in 
 their terror, and connived at, or rather encouraged, their intention 
 of carrying away the child of his benefactor, who, if left behind, 
 was old enough to have described the scene of blood which he had 
 witnessed. The only palliative which the ingenuity of Glossin 
 could offer to his conscience was, that the temptation was great, 
 and came suddenly upon him, embracing as it were the very 
 advantages on which his mind had so long rested, and promising 
 to relieve him from distresses which must have otherwise speedily 
 overwhelmed him. Besides, he endeavoured to think that self- 
 preservation rendered his conduct necessary. He was, in some 
 degree, in the power of the robbers, and pleaded hard with his 
 conscience, that, had he declined their offers, the assistance which 
 he could have called for, though not distant, might not have 
 arrived in time to save him from men who, on less provocation, 
 had just committed murder. 
 
 Galled with the anxious forebodings of a guilty conscience, 
 Glossin now arose, and looked out upon the night. The scene 
 which we have already described in the third chapter of this story, 
 Was now covered with snow, and the brilliant, though waste, white- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 203 
 
 ness of the land, gave to the sea by contrast a dark and livid tinge. 
 A landscape covered with snow, though abstractedly it may be 
 called beautiful, has, both from the association of cold and barren- 
 ness, and from its comparative infrequency, a wild, strange, and 
 desolate appearance. Objects, well known to us in their common 
 state, have either disappeared, or are so strangely varied and dis- 
 guised, that we seem gazing on an unknown world. But it was 
 not with such reflections that the mind of this bad man was 
 occupied. His eye was upon the gigantic and gloomy outlines of 
 the old castle, where, in a flanking tower of enormous size and 
 thickness, glimmered two lights, one from the window of the 
 strong room where Hatteraick was confined, the other from that 
 of the adjacent apartment occupied by his keepers. " Has he 
 made his escape, or will he be able to do so ? — Have these 
 men watched, who never watched before, in order to com- 
 plete my ruin? — If morning finds him there, he must be com- 
 mitted to prison ; Mac-Morlan or some other person will take the 
 matter up — he will be detected — convicted — and will tell all in 
 revenge ! " 
 
 While these racking thoughts glided rapidly through Glossin's 
 mind, he observed one of the lights obscured, as by an opaque 
 body placed at the window. What a moment of interest ! — " He 
 has got clear of his irons ! — he is working at the stancheons of the 
 window — they are surely quite decayed, they must give way — O 
 God! they have fallen outward; I heard them clink among the 
 stones! — the noise cannot fail to wake them — furies seize his 
 Dutch awkwardness ! — The light burns free again— they have torn 
 him from the window, and are binding him in the room ! — No ! he 
 had only retired an instant on the alarm of the falling bars — he is 
 at the window again — and the light is quite obscured now — he 
 is getting out ! " 
 
 A heavy sound, as of a body dropped from a height among the 
 snow, announced that Hatteraick had completed his escape, and 
 shortly after Glossin beheld a dark figure, like a shadow, steal 
 along the whitened beach, and reach the spot where the skiff lay. 
 New cause for fear ! " His single strength will be unable to float 
 her," said Glossin to himself ; " I must go to the rascal's assist- 
 ance. But no ! he has got her off, and now, thank God ! her 
 sail is spreading itself against the moon — ay, he has got the 
 breeze now — would to heaven it were a tempest, to sink him to 
 the bottom ! " • 
 
 After this last cordial wish, he continued watching the progress 
 of the boat as it stood away towards the Point of Warroch, until 
 he could no longer distinguish the dusky sail from the gloomy 
 
zo6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 waves over which it glided. Satisfied then that the immediate 
 danger was averted, he retired with somewhat more composure to 
 his guilty pillow. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Why dost not comfort me, and help me out 
 From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole ? 
 
 Titus Andronicus. 
 
 On the next morning, great was the alarm and confusion of the 
 officers, when they discovered the escape of their prisoner. Mac- 
 Guffog appeared before Glossin with a head perturbed with brandy 
 and fear, and incurred a most severe reprimand for neglect of duty. 
 The resentment of the Justice appeared only to be suspended by 
 his anxiety to recover possession of the prisoner, and the thief- 
 takers, glad to escape from his awful and incensed presence, were 
 sent off in every direction (except the right one) to recover their 
 prisoner, if possible. Glossin particularly recommended a careful 
 search at the Kaim of Derncleugh, which was occasionally occu- 
 pied under night by vagrants of different descriptions. Having 
 thus dispersed his myrmidons in various directions, he himself 
 hastened by devious paths through the Wood of Warroch, to his 
 appointed interview with Hatteraick, from whom he hoped to learn 
 at more leisure than last night's cpnference admitted, the circum- 
 stances attending the return of the heir of Ellangowan to his 
 native country. 
 
 With manoeuvres like those of a fox when he doubles to avoid 
 the pack, Glossin strove to approach the place of appointment in 
 a manner which should leave no distinct tract of his course. 
 " Would to Heaven it would snow," he said, looking upward, " and 
 hide these foot-prints. Should one of the officers light upon them, 
 he would run the scent up like a blood-hound, and surprise us. — I 
 must get down upon the sea-beach, and contrive to creep along 
 beneath the rocks." 
 
 And accordingly he descended from the cliffs with some diffi- 
 culty, and scrambled along between the rocks and the advancing 
 tide ; now looking up to see if his motions were watched from the 
 rocks above him, now casting a jealous glance to mark if any boat 
 appeared upon the sea, from which his course might be discovered. 
 
 But even the feelings of selfish apprehension were for a time 
 superseded, as Glossin passed the spot where Kennedy's body had 
 been found. It was marked by the fragment of rock which had 
 
GUY MANNERING. 207 
 
 been precipitated frqm the cliff above, either with the body or after 
 it. The mass was now encrusted with small shell-fish, and tas- 
 selled with tangle and sea-weed ; but still its shape and substance 
 were different from those of the other rocks which lay scattered 
 around. His voluntary walks, it will readily be believed, had 
 never led to this spot ; so that finding himself now there for the 
 first time after the terrible catastrophe, the scene at once recurred 
 to his mind with all its accompaniments of horror. He remem- 
 bered how, like a guilty thing, gliding from the neighbouring place 
 of concealment, he had mingled with eagerness, yet with caution, 
 among the terrified group who surrounded the corpse, dreading 
 lest anyone should ask from whence he came. He remembered, 
 too, with what conscious fear he had avoided gazing upon that 
 ghastly spectacle. The wild scream of his patron, " My bairn ! 
 my bairn ! " again rang in his ears. " Good God ! " he exclaimed, 
 " and is all I have gained worth the agony of that moment, and 
 the thousand anxious fears and horrors which have since em- 
 bittered my life ! — O how I wish that I lay where that wretched 
 man lies, and that he stood here in life and health ! — But these 
 regrets are all too late. 
 
 Stifling, therefore, his feelings, he crept forward to the cave, 
 which was so near the spot where the body was found, that the 
 smugglers might have heard from their tyiding-place the various 
 conjectures of the bystanders concerning the fate of their victim. 
 But nothing could be more completely concealed than the entrance 
 to their asylum. The opening, not larger than that of a fox-earth, 
 lay in the face of the cliff directly behind a large black rock, or 
 rather upright stone, which served at once to conceal it from 
 strangers, and as a mark to point out its situation to those who 
 used it as a place of retreat. The space between the stone and 
 the cliff was exceedingly narrow, and being heaped with sand and 
 rubbish, the most minute search would not have discovered the 
 mouth of the cavern without removing those substances which the 
 tide had drifted before it. For the purpose of farther conceal- 
 ment, it was usual with the contraband traders who frequented this 
 haunt, after they had entered, to stuff the mouth with withered 
 sea-weed, loosely piled together as if carried there by the waves. 
 Dirk Hatteraick had not forgotten this precaution. 
 
 Glossin, though a bold and hardy man, felt his heart throb, and 
 fiis knees knock together, when he prepared to enter this den of 
 secret iniquity, in order to hold conference with a felon, whom he 
 justly accounted one of the most desperate and depraved of men. 
 " But he has no interest to injure me," was his consolatory reflec- 
 tion. He examined his pocket-pistols, however, before removing 
 
2o8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 the weeds and entering the cavern, which he did upon hands and 
 knees. The passage, which at first was low and narrow, just 
 admitting entrance to a man in a creeping posture, expanded after 
 a few yards into a high arched vault of considerable width. The 
 bottom, ascending gradually, was covered with the purest sand. 
 Ere Glossin had got upon his feet, the hoarse yet suppressed voice 
 of Hatteraick growled through the recesses of the cave. 
 
 " Hagel and donner ! be'st du ? " 
 
 " Are you in the dark ? " 
 
 " Dark? der deyvil ! ay," said Dirk Hatteraick; "where should I 
 have a glim ? " 
 
 " I have brought light ; " and Glossin accordingly produced a 
 tinderrbox, and lighted a small lantern. 
 
 " You must kindle some fire too, for hold mich der deyvil, Ich 
 bin ganz gefrorne ! " 
 
 " It is a cold place, to be sure,'' said Glossin, gathering together 
 some decayed staves of barrels and pieces of wood, which had 
 perhaps lain in the cavern since Hatteraick was there last. 
 
 " Cold ? Snow-wasser and hagel ! it's perdition — I could only 
 keep myself alive by wandering up and down this d — d vault, and 
 thinking about the merry rouses we have had in it." 
 
 The flame then began to blaze brightly, and Hatteraick hung his 
 bronzed visage, and expanded his hard and sinewy hands over it, 
 with an avidity resembling that of a famished wretch to whom 
 food is exposed. The light showed his savage and stern features, 
 and the smoke, which in his agony of cold he seemed to endure 
 almost to suffocation, after circling round his head, rose to the dim 
 and rugged roof of the cave, through which it escaped by some 
 secret rents or clefts in the rock ; the same doubtless that afforded 
 air to the cavern when the tide was in, at which time the aperture 
 to the sea was filled with water. 
 
 " And now I have brought you some breakfast," said Glossin, 
 producing some cold meat and a flask of spirits. The latter Hat- 
 teraick eagerly seized upon, and applied to his mouth ; and, after a 
 hearty draught, he exclaimed, with great rapture, " Das schmeckt ! 
 — that is good — that warms the liver ! " — Then broke into the 
 fragment of a High-Dutch song, 
 
 " Saufen Bier, und Brante-wein, 
 Schmeissen alle die Fernstern ein ; 
 Ich ben liederlich, 
 Du bist liederlich ; 
 Sind wir nicht liederlich Leute a ! " 
 
 " Well said, my hearty Captain," cried Glossin, endeavouring to 
 catch the tone of revelry, — 
 
GUY MANNERING. 209 
 
 " Gin by pailfuls, wine in rivers, 
 Dash the window-glass to shivers ! 
 
 For three wild lads were we, brave boys, 
 And three wild lads were we ; 
 Thou on the land, and I on the sand, 
 And Jack on the gallows-tree ! 
 
 That's it, my bully-boy ! Why, you're alive again now ! — And now 
 let us talk about our business." 
 
 " Your business, if you please," said Hatteraick ; " hagel and 
 donner ! — mine was done when I got out of the bilboes." 
 
 " Have patience, my good friend ; — I'll convince you our interests 
 are just the same." 
 
 Hatteraick gave a short dry cough, and Glossin, after a pause, 
 proceeded. 
 
 " How came you to let the boy escape ? " 
 
 " Why, fluch and blitzen ! he was no charge of mine. Lieu- 
 tenant Brown gave him to his cousin that's in the Middleburgh 
 house of Vanbeest and Vanbruggen, and told him some goose's 
 gazette about his being taken in a skirmish with the land-sharks — 
 he gave him for a foot-boy. Me let him escape ! — the bastard 
 kinchin should have walked the plank ere I troubled myself about 
 him." 
 
 " Well, and was he bred a foot-boy, then ? " 
 
 " Nein, nein ; the kinchin got about the old man's heart, and 
 he gave him his own name, and bred him up in the office, and then 
 sent him to India — I believe he would have packed him back here, 
 but his nephew told him it would do up the free trade for many a 
 day, if the youngster got back to Scotland." 
 
 " Do you think the younker knows much of his own origin 
 now ? " 
 
 "Deyvil!" replied Hatteraick, "how should I tell what he 
 knows now ? But he remembered something of it long. When he 
 was but ten years old, he persuaded another Satan's limb of an 
 English bastard like himself to steal my lugger's khan — boat — 
 what do you call it — to return to his country, as he called it — fire 
 him ! Before we could overtake them, they had the skiff out of 
 channel as far as the Deurloo — the boat might have been lost." 
 
 " I wish to Heaven she had, with him in her ! " ejaculated 
 Glossin. 
 
 " Why, I]was so angry myself, that, sapperment ! I did give him 
 a tip over the side — but split him — the comical little devil swam 
 like a duck ; so I made him swim astern for a mile to teach him 
 manners, and then took him in when he was sinking. — By the 
 knocking Nicholas ! he'll plague you, now he's come over the 
 
aio GUY MANNERING. 
 
 herring-pond ! When he was so high, he had the spirit of thunder 
 and lightning." 
 
 " How did he get back from India ? " 
 
 " Why, how should I know? — the house there was done up, and 
 that gave us a shake at Middleburgh, I think — so they sent me 
 again to see what could be done among my old acquaintances here 
 — for we held old stories were done away and forgotten. So I had 
 got a pretty trade on foot within the last two trips ; but that stupid 
 houndsfoot schelm, Brown, has knocked it on the head again, I 
 suppose, with getting himself shot by the colonel-man." 
 
 " Why were you not with them ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, sapperment ! I fear nothing — but it was too far 
 within land, and I might have been scented." 
 
 " True. But to return to this youngster " 
 
 " Ay, ay, donner and blitzen ! htfs your affair," said the Captain. 
 
 " — How do you really know that he is in this country ? " 
 
 " Why, Gabriel saw him up among the hills." 
 
 " Gabriel ! who is he ? " 
 
 " A fellow from the gipsies, that, about eighteen years since, was 
 pressed on board that d — d fellow Pritchard's sloop-of-war. It was 
 he came off and gave us warning that the Shark was coming round 
 jpon us the day Kennedy was done ; and he told us how Kennedy 
 had given the information. The gipsies and Kennedy had some 
 quarrel besides. This Gab went to the East Indies in the same 
 ship with your younker, and, sapperment ! knew him well, 
 though the other did not remember him. Gab kept out of his eye, 
 though, as he had served the States against England, and was a 
 deserter to boot ; and he sent us word directly, that we might 
 know of his being here — though it does not concern us a rope's end." 
 
 " So, then, really, and in sober earnest, he is actually in this 
 country, Hatteraick, between friend and friend?" asked Glossin, 
 seriously. 
 
 "Wetter and donner ! yaw ! What do you take me for?" 
 
 For a blood-thirsty, fearless miscreant ! thought Glossin inter- 
 nally ; but said aloud, " And which of your people was it that shot 
 young Hazlewood ? " 
 
 " Sturm-wetter ! " said the Captain, " do ye think we were mad ? 
 — none of us, man. — Gott ! the country was too hot for the trade 
 already with that d — d frolic of Brown's, attacking what you call 
 Woodbourne House." 
 
 "Why, I am told," said Glossin, "it was Brown who shot Hazle- 
 wood?" 
 
 " Not our lieutenant, I promise you ; for he was laid six feet deep 
 at Derncleugh the day before the thing happened.— Tausend 
 
GUY MANNERING. an 
 
 deyvils, man ! do ye think that he could rise out of the earth to 
 shoot another man ? " 
 
 A light here began to break upon Glossin's confusion of ideas. 
 " Did you not say that the younker, as you call him, goes by the 
 name of Brown ?" 
 
 " Of Brown ? yaw — Vanbeest Brown ; old Vanbeest Brown, of 
 our Vanbeest and Vanbruggen, gave him his own name — he 
 did." 
 
 " Then,'' said Glossin, rubbing his hands, " it is he, by Heaven, 
 who has committed this crime ! " 
 
 " And what have we to do with that ?" demanded Hatteraick. 
 
 Glossin paused, and, fertile in expedients, hastily ran over his 
 project in his own mind, and then drew near the smuggler with a 
 confidential air. " You, know, my dear Hatteraick, it is our princi- 
 pal business to get rid of this young man ? " 
 
 " Umh !" answered Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " Not," continued Glossin — " not that I would wish any personal 
 harm to him— if — if — if we can do without. Now, he is liable to be 
 seized upon by justice, both as bearing the same name with your 
 lieutenant, who was engaged in that affair at Woodbourne, and for 
 firing at young Hazlewood with intent to kill or wound." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Dirk Hatteraick ; " but what good will that do 
 you ? He'll be loose again as soon as he shows himself to carry 
 other colours." 
 
 " True, my dear Dirk ; well noticed, my friend Hatteraick ! But 
 there is ground enough for a temporary imprisonment till he fetch 
 his proofs from England, or elsewhere, my good friend. I under- 
 stand the law, Captain Hatteraick, and I'll take it upon me, simple 
 Gilbert Glossin of Ellangowan, justice of peace for the county of 
 
 , to refuse his bail, if he should offer the best in the country, 
 
 until he is brought up for a second examination — now where d'ye 
 think I'll incarcerate him ? " 
 
 " Hagel and wetter ! what do I care ? " 
 
 " Stay, my friend — you do care a great deal. Do you know your 
 goods, that were seized and carried to Woodbourne, are now lying 
 in the Custom-house at Portanferry ? " (a small fishing-town). — 
 " Now I will commit this younker " 
 
 " When you have caught him ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, when I've caught him ; I shall not be long about that 
 — I will commit him to the Workhouse, or Bridewell, which you 
 know is beside the Custom-house." 
 
 " Yaw, the Rasp-house ; I knqw it very well." 
 
 " I will take 'care that the red-coats are dispersed through the 
 country ; you land at night with the crew of your lugger, receive 
 
 o 2 
 
212 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 your own goods, and carry the younker Brown with you back to 
 Flushing. Won't that do ? " 
 
 " Ay, carry him to Flushing," said the Captain, " or — to 
 America ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, my friend." 
 
 " Or— to Jericho ? " 
 
 " Psha ! Wherever you have a mind." 
 
 " Ay, or — pitch him overboard ?" 
 
 " Nay, I advise no violence." 
 
 " Nein, nein — you leave that to me. Sturm-wetter ! I know you 
 of old. But, hark ye, what am I, Dirk Hatteraick, to be the better 
 of this?" 
 
 " Why, is it not your interest as well as mine ? " said Glossin : 
 " besides, I set you free this morning." 
 
 " You set me free ! — Donner and deyvil ! I set myself free. 
 Besides, it was all in the way of your profession, and happened a 
 long time ago, ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! don't let us jest ; I am not against making a 
 handsome compliment — but it's your affair as well as mine." 
 
 " What do you talk of my affair ? is it not you that keep the 
 younker's whole estate from him ? Dick Hatteraick never touched 
 a stiver of his rents." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! — I tell you it shall be a joint business." 
 
 " Why, will you give me half the kitt ? " 
 
 " What, half the estate ? — d'ye mean we should set up house 
 together at Ellangowan, and take the barony, ridge about ? " 
 
 " Sturm-wetter, no ! but you might give me half the value — half 
 the gelt. Live with you ? nein — I would have a lust-haus of mine 
 own on the Middleburgh dyke, and a blumen-garten like a burgo- 
 master's." 
 
 " Ay, and a wooden lion at the door, and a painted sentinel in 
 the garden, with a pipe in his mouth ! — But hark ye, Hatteraick ; 
 what will all the tulips, and flower-gardens, and pleasure-houses in 
 the Netherlands do for you, if you are hanged here in Scotland ? " 
 
 Hatteraick's countenance fell. " Der deyvil ! hanged?" 
 
 " Ay, hanged, meinheer Captain. The devil can scarce save Dirk 
 Hatteraick from being hanged for a murderer and kidnapper, if the 
 younker of Ellangowan should settle in this country, and if the 
 gallant Captain chances to be caught here re-establishing his fair 
 trade ! And I won't say, but as peace is now so much talked of, 
 their High Mightinesses may not hand him over to oblige their new 
 allies, even if he remained in fader-land." 
 
 " Poz hagel blitzen and donner ! I — I doubt you say true." 
 
 * Not," said Glossin, perceiving he had made the desired impres- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 213 
 
 sion, " not that I am against being civil ; " and he slid into Hatte- 
 raid^s passive hand a bank-note of some value. 
 
 "Is this all ? " said the smuggler ; " you had the price of half a 
 cargo for winking at our job, and made us do your business too." 
 
 " But, my good friend, you forget— in this case you will recover 
 all your own goods." 
 
 " Ay, at the risk of all our own necks — we could do that without 
 you." 
 
 " I doubt that, Captain Hatteraick," said Glossin drily, " because 
 you would probably find a dozen red-coats at the Custom-house, 
 whom it must be my business, if we agree about this matter, to have 
 removed. Come, come, I will be as liberal as I can, but you should 
 have a conscience." 
 
 " Now strafe mich der deyfel — this provokes me more than all 
 the rest !— You rob and you murder, and you want me to rob and 
 murder, and play the silver-cooper, or kidnapper, as you call it, a 
 dozen times over, and then, hagel and wind-sturm ! you speak to me 
 of conscience ! — Can you think of no fairer way of getting rid of 
 this unlucky lad ? " 
 
 " No, meinheer ; but as I commit him to your charge" 
 
 "To my charge — to the charge of steel and gunpowder ! and — 
 well, if it must be, it must — but you have a tolerably good guess 
 what's like to come of it." 
 
 " O, my dear friend, I trust no degree of severity will be neces- 
 sary," replied Glossin. 
 
 " Severity ! " said the fellow, with a kind of groan. " I wish you 
 had had my dreams when I first came to this dog-hole, and tried to 
 sleep among the dry seaweed. — First, there was that d— d fellow 
 there, with his broken back, sprawling as he did when I hurled the 
 rock over a-top on him — ha ! ha ! you would have sworn he was 
 lying on the floor where you stand, wriggling like a crushed frog — 
 and then " 
 
 " Nay, my friend," said Glossin, interrupting him, " what signi- 
 fies going over this nonsense ? — If you are turned chicken-hearted, 
 why, the game's up, that's all — the game's up with us both." 
 
 "Chicken-hearted? — No. I have not lived so long upon the 
 account to start at last, neither for devil nor Dutchman." 
 
 " Well, then, take another schnaps — the cold's at your heart still. 
 — And now tell me, are any of your old crew with you ?" 
 
 " Nein — all dead, shot, hanged, drowned, and damned. Brown 
 was the last — all dead but Gipsy Gab, and he would go off the 
 country for a spill of money — or he'll be quiet for his own sake — or 
 old Meg, his aunt, will keep him quiet for hers. 
 
 "Which Meg?" 
 
214 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Meg Merrilies, the old devil's limb of a gipsy witch." 
 
 " Is she still alive ? " 
 
 "Yaw." 
 
 " And in this country ? " 
 
 " And in this country. She was at the Kaim of Derncleugh, at 
 Vanbeest Brown's last wake, as they cajl it, the other night, with 
 two of my people, and some of her own blasted gipsies." 
 
 " That's another breaker a-head, Captain ! Will she not squeak, 
 think ye?" 
 
 " Not she — she won't start — she swore by the salmon,* if we did 
 the kinchin no harm, she would never tell how the gauger got it. 
 Why, man, though I gave her a wipe with my hanger in the heat 
 of the matter, and cut her arm, and though she was so long after in 
 trouble about it up at your borough-town there, der deyvil ! old Meg 
 was as true as steel." 
 
 " Why, that's true, as you say," replied Glossin. " And yet if she 
 could be carried over to Zealand or Hamburgh, or — or — anywhere 
 else, you know, it were as well." 
 
 Hatteraick jumped upright upon his feet, and looked at Glossin 
 from head to heel. — "I don't see the goat's foot," he said; "and 
 yet he must be the very deyvil ! — But Meg Merrilies is closer yet 
 with the Kobold than you are— ay, and I had never such weather 
 as after having drawn her blood. Nein, nein, I'll meddle with her 
 no more — she's a witch of the fiend — a real deyvil's kind — but that's 
 her affair. Donner and wetter ! I'll neither make nor meddle — ■ 
 that's her work. — But for the rest — why, if I thought the trade 
 would not suffer, I would soon rid you of the younker, if you send 
 me word when he's under embargo." 
 
 In brief and under tones the two worthy associates concerted 
 their enterprise, and agreed at which of his haunts Hatteraick should 
 be heard of. The stay of his lugger on the coast was not difficult, 
 as there were no king's vessels there at the time. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 You are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you. 
 Because we come to do you service, you think we are ruffians." 
 
 Othello. 
 
 When Glossin returned home, he found, among other letters and 
 papers sent to him, one of considerable importance. It was signed 
 by Mr. Protocol, an attorney in Edinburgh, and, addressing him 
 as the agent for Godfrey Bertram, Esq., late of Ellangowan, and his 
 representatives, acquainted him with the sudden death of Mrs. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 215 
 
 Margaret Bertram of Singleside, requesting him to inform his 
 clients, thereof, in case they should judge it proper to have any 
 person present for their interest at opening the repositories of the 
 deceased. Mr. Glossin perceived at once that the letter- writer was 
 unacquainted with the breach which had taken place between him 
 and his late patron. The estate of the deceased lady should by 
 rights, as he well knew, descend to Lucy Bertram; but it was a 
 thousand to one that the caprice of the old lady might have altered 
 its destination. After running over contingencies and probabilities 
 in his fertile mind, to ascertain what sort of personal advantage 
 might accrue to him from this incident, he could not perceive any 
 mode of availing himself of it, except in so far as it might go to 
 assist his plan of recovering, or rather creating, a character, the 
 want of which he had already experienced, and was likely to feel 
 yet more deeply. " I must place myself," he thought, " on strong 
 ground, that if anything goes wrong with Dirk Hatteraick's project, 
 I may have prepossessions in my favour at least." — Besides, to do 
 Glossin justice, bad as he was, he might feel some desire to com- 
 pensate Miss Bertram in a small degree, and in a case in which his 
 own interest did not interfere with hers, the infinite mischief which 
 he had occasioned to her family. He therefore resolved early the 
 next morning to ride over to Woodbourne. 
 
 It was not without hesitation that he took this step, having the 
 natural reluctance to face Colonel Mannering, which fraud and 
 villany have to encounter honour and probity. But he had great 
 confidence in his own savoir faire. His talents were naturally 
 acute, and by no means confined to the line of his profession. He 
 had at different times resided a good deal in England, and his 
 address was free both from country rusticity and professional 
 pedantry ; so that he had considerable powers both of address and 
 persuasion, joined to an unshaken effrontery, which he affected to 
 disguise under plainness of manner. Confident, therefore, in him- 
 self, he appeared at Woodbourne, about ten in the morning, and 
 was admitted as a gentleman come to wait upon Miss Bertram. 
 
 He did not announce himself until he was at the door of the 
 breakfast-parlour, when the servant, by his desire, said aloud— 
 " Mr. Glossin, to wait upon Miss Bertram." Lucy, remembering 
 the last scene of her father's existence, turned as pale as death, and 
 had wellnigh fallen from her chair. Julia Mannering flew to her 
 assistance, and they left the room together. There remained 
 Colonel Mannering, Charles Hazlewood, with his arm in a sling, 
 and the Dominie, whose gaunt visage and wall-eyes assumed a 
 most hostile aspect on recognising Glossin. 
 
 That honest gentleman, though somewhat abashed by the effect 
 
2i6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 of his first introduction, advanced with confidence, and hoped he 
 did not intrude upon the ladies. Colonel Mannering, in a very 
 upright and stately manner, observed, that he did not know to 
 what he was to impute the honour of a visit from Mr. Glossin. 
 
 "Hem! hem! I took the liberty to wait upon Miss Bertram, 
 Colonel Mannering, on account of a matter of business." 
 
 " If it can be communicated to Mr. Mac-Morlan, her agent, sir, 
 I believe it will be more agreeable to Miss Bertram." 
 
 " I beg pardon, Colonel Mannering," said Glossin, making a 
 wretched attempt at an easy demeanour ; " you are a man of the 
 world — there are some cases in which it is most prudent for all 
 parties to treat with principals." 
 
 " Then," replied Mannering, with a repulsive air, " if Mr. Glossin 
 will take the trouble to state his object in a letter, I will answer 
 that Miss Bertram pays proper attention to it." 
 
 " Certainly," stammered Glossin ; " but there are cases in which 
 a viva voce conference — Hem ! I perceive — I know — that Colonel 
 Mannering has adopted some prejudices which may make my visit 
 appear intrusive ; but I submit to his good sense, whether he ought 
 to exclude me from a hearing without knowing the purpose of my 
 visit, or of how much consequence it may be to the young lady 
 whom he honours with his protection." 
 
 " Certainly, sir, I have not the least intention to do so," replied 
 the Colonel. " I will learn Miss Bertram's pleasure on the subject, 
 and acquaint Mr. Glossin, if he can spare time to wait for her 
 answer." So saying, he left the room. 
 
 Glossin had still remained standing in the midst of the apart- 
 ment. Colonel Mannering had made not the slightest motion to 
 invite him to sit, and indeed had remained standing himself during 
 their short interview. When he left the room, however, Glossin 
 seized upon a chair, and threw himself into it with an air between 
 embarrassment and effrontery. He felt the silence of his com- 
 panions disconcerting and oppressive, and resolved to interrupt it. 
 
 " A fine day, Mr. Sampson." 
 
 The Dominie answered with something between an acquiescent 
 grunt and an indignant groan. 
 
 "You never come down to see your old acquaintance on the 
 Ellangowan property, Mr. Sampson — You would find most of the old 
 stagers still stationary there. I have too much respect for the late 
 family to disturb old residenters, even under pretence of improve- 
 ment. Besides, it's not my way — I don't like it — I believe, 
 Mr. Sampson, Scripture particularly condemns those who oppress 
 the poor, and remove landmarks." 
 
 " Or who devour the substance of orphans," subjoined the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 917 
 
 Dominie. "Anathema! Maranatha!" So saying, lie rose, 
 shouldered the folio which he had been perusing, faced to the right 
 about, and marched out of the room with the strides of a 
 grenadier. 
 
 Mr. Glossin, no way disconcerted, or at least feeling it necessary 
 not to appear so, turned to young Hazlewood, who was apparently 
 busy with the newspaper. " Any news, sir ? " Hazlewood raised 
 his eyes, looked at him, and pushed the paper towards him, as if to 
 a stranger in a. coffee-house, then rose, and was about to leave the 
 room. " I beg pardon, Mr. Hazlewood — but I can't help wishing 
 you joy of getting so easily over that infernal accident." This was 
 answered by a sort of inclination of the head, as slight and stiff 
 as could well be imagined. Yet it encouraged our man of law to 
 proceed. " I can promise you, Mr. Hazlewood, few people have 
 taken the interest in that matter which I have done, both for the 
 sake of the country, and on account of my particular respect for 
 your family, which has so high a stake in it ; indeed, so very high 
 a stake, that, as Mr. Featherhead is turning old now, and as there's 
 a talk, since his last stroke, of his taking the Chiltern Hundreds, it 
 might be worth your while to look about you. I speak as a friend. 
 Mr. Hazlewood, and as one who understands the roll ; and if in 
 going over it together " 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, but I have no views in which your assistance 
 could be useful." 
 
 " O very well — perhaps you are right — it's quite time enough, 
 and I love to see a young gentleman cautious. But I was talking 
 of your wound — 1 think I have got a clew to that business — I 
 think I have — and if I don't bring the fellow to condign punish- 
 ment " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, once more ; but your zeal outruns my 
 wishes. I have every reason to think the wound was accidental — 
 certainly it was not premeditated. Against ingratitude and pre- 
 meditated treachery, should you find any one guilty of them, my 
 resentment will be as warm as your own." This was Hazlewood's 
 answer. 
 
 " Another rebuff," thought Glossin ; " I must try him upon the 
 other tack. Right sir ; very nobly said ! I would have no more 
 mercy on an ungrateful man than I would on a woodcock — And 
 now we talk of sport " (this was a sort of diverting of the con- 
 versation which Glossin had learned from his former patron), " I 
 see you often carry a gun, and I hope you will be soon able to take 
 the field again. I observe you confine yourself always to your own 
 side of the Hazleshaws-burn. I hope, my dear sir, you will make 
 no scruple of following your game to the Ellangowan bank • 
 
2i8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 I believe it is rather the best exposure of the two for woodcocks, 
 although both are capital." 
 
 As this offer only excited a cold and constrained bow, Glossin 
 was obliged to remain silent, and was presently afterwards some- 
 what relieved by the entrance of Colonel Mannering. 
 
 " I have detained you some time, I fear, sir," said he, addressing 
 Glossin : " I wished to prevail upon Miss Bertram to see you, as, 
 in my opinion, her objections ought to give way to the necessity of 
 bearing in her own person what is stated to be of importance that she 
 should know. But I find that circumstances of recent occurrence, 
 and not easily to be forgotten, have rendered her so utterly 
 repugnant to a personal interview with Mr. Glossin, that it would 
 be cruelty to insist upon it : and she has deputed me to receive his 
 commands, or proposal, or, in short, whatever he may wish to say 
 to her." 
 
 "Hem, hem! I am sorry, sir — I am very sorry, Colonel Man- 
 nering, that Miss Bertram should suppose — that any prejudice, in 
 short — or idea that anything on my part " 
 
 " Sir," said the inflexible Colonel, " where no accusation is made, 
 excuses or explanations are unnecessary. Have you any objection 
 to communicate to me, as Miss Bertram's temporary guardian, the 
 circumstances which you conceive to interest her ? " 
 
 " None, Colonel Mannering ; she could not choose a more 
 respectable friend, or one with whom I, in particular, would more 
 anxiously wish to communicate frankly." 
 
 " Have the goodness to speak to the point, sir, if you please." 
 
 " Why, sir, it is not so easy all at once — but Mr. Hazlewood need 
 not leave the room, — I mean so well to Miss Bertram, that I could 
 wish the whole world to hear my part of the conference." 
 
 " My friend Mr. Charles Hazlewood will not probably be 
 anxious, Mr. Glossin, to listen to what cannot concern him — and 
 now, when he has left us alone, let me pray you to be short and 
 explicit in what you have to say. I am a soldier, sir, somewhat 
 impatient of forms and introductions." So saying, he drew himself 
 up in his chair, and waited for Mr. Glossin's communication. 
 
 "Be pleased to look at that letter," said Glossin, putting 
 Protocol's epistle into Mannering's hand, as the shortest way of 
 stating his business. 
 
 The Colonel read it, and returned it, after pencilling the name of 
 the writer in his memorandum-book. " This, sir, does not seem to 
 require much discussion — I will see that Miss Bertram's interest is 
 attended to." 
 
 " But, sir, — but, Colonel Mannering," added Glossin, " there is 
 another matter which no one can explain but myself. This lady— 
 
GUY MANNERING. 219 
 
 this Mrs. Margaret Bertram, to my certain knowledge, made a 
 general settlement of her affairs in Miss Lucy Bertram's favour 
 while she lived with my old friend, Mr. Bertram, at Ellangowan. 
 The Dominie — that was the name by which my deceased friend 
 always called that very respectable man Mr. Sampson — he and I 
 witnessed the deed. And she had full power at that time to make 
 such a settlement, for she was in fee of the estate of Singleside 
 even then, although it was liferented by an elder sister. It was a 
 whimsical settlement of old Singleside's, sir; he pitted the two 
 cats his daughters against each other, ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 "Well, sir," said Mannering, without the slightest smile of 
 sympathy, " but to the purpose. You say that this lady had power 
 to settle her estate on Miss Bertram, and that she did so ?" 
 
 " Even so, Colonel," replied Glossin. " I think I should under- 
 stand the law — I have followed it for many years, and though I 
 have given it up to retire upon a handsome competence, I did not 
 throw away that knowledge which is pronounced better than house 
 and land, and which I take to be the knowledge of the law, since, 
 as our common rhyme has it, 
 
 ' Tis most excellent, 
 
 To win the land that's gone and spent. 
 
 No, no, I love the smack of the whip — I have a little, a very little 
 law yet, at the service of my friends." 
 
 Glossin ran on in this manner, thinking he had made a favour- 
 able impression on Mannering. The Colonel indeed reflected that 
 this might be a most important crisis for Miss Bertram's interest, 
 and resolved that his strong inclination to throw Glossin out at 
 window, or at door, should not interfere with it. He put a strong 
 curb on his temper, and resolved to listen with patience at least, if 
 without complacency. He therefore let Mr. Glossin get to the end 
 of his self-congratulations, and then asked him if he knew where 
 the deed was ? 
 
 " I know — that is, I think — I believe I can recover it — In such 
 cases custodiers have sometimes made a charge." 
 
 " We won't differ as to that, sir," said the Colonel, taking out his 
 pocket-book. 
 
 " But, my dear sir, you take me so very short — I said some persons 
 might make such a claim — I'mean for payment of the expenses of 
 the deed, trouble in the affair, &c. But I, for my own part, only 
 wish Miss Bertram and her friends to be satisfied that I am acting 
 towards her with honour. There's the paper, sir ! It would have 
 been a satisfaction to me to have delivered it into Miss Bertram's 
 own hands, and to have wished her joy of the prospects which it 
 
220 GUY MANNER1NG. 
 
 opens. But since her prejudices on the subject are invincible, it 
 only remains for me to transmit her my best wishes through you, 
 Colonel Mannering, and to express that I shall willingly give my 
 testimony in support of that deed when I shall be called upon. I 
 have the honour to wish you a good morning, sir." 
 
 This parting speech was so well got up, and had so much the 
 tone of conscious integrity unjustly suspected, that even Colonel 
 Mannering was staggered in his bad opinion. He followed him 
 two or three steps, and took leave of him with more politeness 
 (though still cold and formal) than he had paid during his visit. 
 Glossin left the house, half pleased with the impression he had 
 made, half mortified by the stern caution and proud reluctance 
 with which he had been received. " Colonel Mannering might 
 have had more politeness," he said to himself— " it is not every 
 man that can bring a good chance of ,£400 a-year to a penniless 
 girl. Singleside must be up to j£4oo a-year now — there's 
 Reilageganbeg, Gillifidget, Loverless, Liealone, and the Spinster's 
 Knowe — good ^400 a-year. Some people might have made their 
 otvn of it in my place — and yet, to own the truth, after much con- 
 sideration, I don't see how that is possible." 
 
 Glossin was no sooner mounted and gone, than the Colonel 
 dispatched a groom for Mr. Mac-Morlan, and putting the deed into 
 his hand, requested to know if it was likely to be available to his 
 friend Lucy Bertram. Mr. Mac-Morlan perused it with eyes that 
 sparkled with delight, snapped his fingers repeatedly, and at length 
 exclaimed, " Available ! — it's as tight as a glove — naebody could 
 make better wark than Glossin, when he didna let down a steek on 
 
 purpose — But " (his countenance falling) " the auld b , that I 
 
 should say so, might alter at pleasure ! " 
 
 " Ah ! And how shall we know whether she has done 
 so?" 
 
 " Somebody must attend on Miss Bertram's part, when the repo- 
 sitories of the deceased are opened." 
 
 " Can you go i" said the Colonel. 
 
 " I fear I cannot," replied Mac-Morlan ; "I must attend a jury 
 trial before our court." 
 
 " Then I will go myself," said the Colonel ; " I'll set out to- 
 morrow. Sampson shall go with me — he is witness to this settle- 
 ment. But I shall want a legal adviser ? " 
 
 " The gentleman that was lately sheriff of this county is high in 
 reputation as a barrister ; I will give you a card of introduction 
 to him." 
 
 " What I like about you, Mr. Mac-Morlan," said the Colonel, 
 " is, that you have always come straight to the point. — Let me have 
 
O.UY MANNERING. 221 
 
 it. instantly — Shall we tell Miss Lucy her chance of becoming an 
 heiress-?" 
 
 " Surely, because you must have some powers from her, which I 
 will instantly draw out. Besides, I will be caution for her prudence, 
 and that she will consider it only in the light of a chance." 
 
 Mr. Mac-Morlan judged well, rt could not be discerned from 
 Miss Bertram's manner, that she founded exulting hopes upon the 
 prospect thus unexpectedly opening before her. She did indeed, in 
 the course of the evening, ask Mr. Mac-Morlan, as if by accident, 
 what might be the annual income of the Hazlewood property ; but 
 shall we therefore aver for certain that she was considering whether 
 an heiress of four hundred a-year might be a suitable match for 
 the young Laird ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red — for I must 
 speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses' vein. 
 
 Henry IV. Part I. 
 
 Mannering, with Sampson for his companion, lost no time in 
 his journey to Edinburgh. They travelled in the Colonel's post- 
 chariot, who, knowing his companion's habits of abstraction, did 
 not choose to lose him out of his own sight, far less to trust him on 
 horseback, where, in all probability, a knavish stable-boy might 
 with Tittle address have contrived to mount him with his face to the 
 tail. Accordingly, with the aid of his valet, who attended on 
 horseback, he contrived to bring Mr. Sampson safe to an inn in 
 Edinburgh, — for hotels in those days there were none, — without 
 any other accident than arose from -his straying twice upon the 
 road. On one occasion he was recovered by Barnes, who under- 
 stood his humour, when, after engaging in close colloquy with the 
 schoolmaster of Moffat, respecting a disputed quantity in Horace's 
 7th Ode, Book II., the dispute led on to another controversy, con- 
 cerning the exact meaning of the word Malobathro, in that lyric 
 effusion. His second escapade was made for the purpose of visit- 
 ing the field of Rullion-green, which was dear to his Presbyterian 
 predilections. Having got out of the carriage for an instant, he 
 saw the sepulchral monument of the slain at the distance of about 
 a mile, and was arrested by Barnes in his progress up the Pentland 
 hills, having on both occasions forgot his friend, patron, and fellow- 
 traveller, as completely as if he had been in the East Indies. On 
 being reminded that Colonel Mannering was waiting for him he 
 uttered his usual ejaculation of " Prodigious ! — I was oblivious," 
 
232 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 and then strode back to his post. Barnes was surprised at 
 his master's patience on both occasions, knowing by experi- 
 ence how little he brooked neglect or delay ; but the Dominie 
 was in every respect a privileged person. His patron and 
 he were never for a moment in each other's way, and it seemed ob- 
 vious that they were formed to be companions through life. If 
 Mannering wanted a particular book, the Dominie could bring it ; 
 if he wished to have accounts summed up or checked, his assist- 
 ance was equally ready ; if he desired to recall a particular passage 
 in the classics, he could have recourse to the Dominie as to a dic- 
 tionary ; and all the while, this walking statue was neither pre- 
 suming when noticed, nor sulky when left to himself. To a proud, 
 shy, reserved man, and such in many respects was Mannering, this 
 sort of living catalogue, and animated automaton, had all the ad- 
 vantages of a literary dumb-waiter. 
 
 As soon as they arrived in Edinburgh, and were established at 
 the George Inn, near Bristo-port, then kept by old Cockburn'(I love 
 to be particular), the Colonel desired the waiter to procure him a 
 guide to Mr. Pleydell's, the advocate, for whom he had a letter of 
 introduction from Mr. Mac-Morlan. He then commanded Barnes 
 to have an eye to the Dominie, and walked forth with a chairman, 
 who was to usher him to the man of law. 
 
 The period was near the end of the American war. The desire of 
 room, of air, and of decent, accommodation, had not as yet "made very 
 much progress in the capital of Scotland. Some efforts had been 
 made on the south side of the town towards building houses within 
 themselves, as they are emphatically termed ; and the New Town 
 on the north, since so much extended, was then just commenced. 
 But the great bulk of the better classes, and particularly those con- 
 nected with the law, still lived in flats or dungeons of the Old 
 Town. The manners also of some of the veterans of the law had 
 not admitted innovation. One or two eminent lawyers still saw 
 their clients in taverns, as was the general custom fifty years be- 
 fore ; and although their habits were already considered as old- 
 fashioned by the younger barristers, yet the custom of mixing wine 
 and revelry with serious business was still maintained by those 
 senior counsellors, who loved the old road, either because it was 
 such, or because they had got too well used to it to travel any 
 other. Among those praisers of the past time, who with ostenta- 
 tious obstinacy affected the manners of a former generation, was 
 this same Paulus Pleydell, Esq., otherwise a good scholar, an ex- 
 cellent lawyer, and a worthy man. 
 
 Under the guidance of his trusty attendant, Colonel Mannering, 
 after threading a dark lane or two, reached the High-street, then 
 
GUY MANNERING 223 
 
 clanging with the voices of oyster-women and the bells of pyemen ; 
 for it had, as his guide assured him, just " chappit eight upon the 
 Tron." It was long since Mannering had been in the street of a 
 crowded metropolis, which, with its noise and clamour, its sounds 
 of trade, of revelry and of licence, its variety of lights, and the 
 eternally changing bustle of its hundred groups, offers, by night 
 especially, a spectacle which, though composed of the most vulgar 
 materials when they are separately considered, has, when they are 
 combined, a striking and powerful effect on the imagination. The 
 extraordinary height of the houses was marked by lights, which, 
 glimmering irregularly along their front, ascended so high among 
 the attics, that they seemed at length to twinkle in the middle sky. 
 This coup d'ceil, which still subsists in a certain degree, was then 
 more imposing, owing to the uninterrupted range of buildings on 
 each side, which, broken only at the space where the North Bridge 
 joins the main street, formed a superb and uniform Place, extending 
 from the front of the Luckenbooths to the head of the Canongate, 
 and corresponding in breadth and length to the uncommon height 
 of the buildings on either side. 
 
 Mannering had not much time to look and to admire. His con- 
 ductor hurried him across this striking scene, and suddenly dived 
 with him into a very steep paved lane. Turning to the right, they 
 entered a scale-staircase, as it is called, the state of which, so far as it 
 could be judged of by one of his senses, annoyed Mannering's delicacy 
 not a little. When they had ascended cautiously to a considerable 
 height, they heard a heavy rap at a door, still two stories above 
 them. The door opened, and immediately ensued the sharp and 
 worrying bark of a dog, the squalling of a woman, the screams of 
 an assaulted cat, and the hoarse voice of a man, who cried in a 
 most imperative tone, " Will ye, Mustard ? will ye ? — down, sir ! 
 down ! " 
 
 " Lord preserve us ! " said the female voice, " an he had worried 
 our cat, Mr. Pleydell would ne'er hae forgi'en me ! " 
 
 " Aweel, my doo, the cat's no a prin the waur — So he's no in, ye 
 say?" 
 
 " Na, Mr. Pleydell's ne'er in the house on Saturday at e'en," an- 
 swered the female voice. 
 
 " And the morn's Sabbath too," said the querist ; <! I dinna ken 
 what will be done." 
 
 By this time Mannering appeared, and found a tall strong coun- 
 tryman, clad, in a coat of pepper-and-salt-coloured mixture, with 
 huge metal buttons, a glazed hat and boots, and a large horsewhip 
 beneath his arm, in colloquy with a slip-shod damsel, who had in 
 one hand the lock of the door, and in the other a pail of whiting, 
 
224 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 or camstane, as it is called, mixed with water — a circumstance which 
 indicates Saturday night in Edinburgh. 
 
 " So Mr. Pleydell is not at home, my good girl ? " said Man- 
 nering?" 
 
 " Ay, sir, he's at hame, but he's no in the house : he's aye out on 
 Saturday at e'en." 
 
 " But, my good girl, I am a stranger, and my business express — 
 Will you tell me where I can find him ? " 
 
 " His honour," said the chairman, " will be at Clerihugh's about 
 this time — Hersell could ha tell'd ye that, but she thought ye 
 wanted to see his house." 
 
 " Well, then, show me to this tavern — I suppose he will see me, 
 as I come on business of some consequence ? " 
 
 " I dinna ken, sir," said the girl ; " he disna like to be disturbed 
 on Saturdays wi' business — but he's aye-civil to strangers." 
 
 " I'll gang to the tavern too," said our friend Dinmont, " for I am 
 a stranger also, and on business e'en sic like." 
 
 " Na," said the handmaiden, "an he see the gentleman, he'll see the 
 simple body too — but, Lord's sake, dinna say it was me sent ye there ! " 
 
 " Atweel, I am a simple body, that's true, hinny, but I am no 
 come to steal ony o' his skeel for naething," said the farmer in his 
 honest pride, and strutted away down stairs, followed by Mannering 
 and the cadie. Mannering could not help admiring the determined 
 stride with which the stranger who preceded them divided the 
 press, shouldering from him, by the mere weight and impetus of his 
 motion, both drunk and sober passengers. " He'll be a Teviotdale 
 tup tat ane," said the chairman, " tat's for keeping ta crown o' ta 
 causeway tat gate — he'll no gang far or he'll get somebody to bell 
 ta cat wi' him." 
 
 His shrewd augury, however, was not fulfilled. Those who re- 
 coiled from the colossal weight of Dinmont, on looking up at his 
 size and strength, apparently judged him too heavy metal to be 
 rashly encountered, and suffered him to pursue his course unchal- 
 lenged. Following in the wake of this first rate, Mannering pro- 
 ceeded till the farmer made a pause, and, looking back to the chair- 
 man, said, " I'm thinking this will be the close, friend ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay," replied Donald, " tat's ta close." 
 
 Dinmont descended confidently, then turned into a dark alley — 
 then up a dark stair — and then into an open door. While he was 
 whistling, shrilly for tb-; waiter, as if he had been one of his collie 
 dogs, Mannering looked round him, and could hardly conceive how 
 a gentleman of a liberal profession, and good society, should choose 
 such a scene for social indulgence. Besides the miserable entrance, 
 the house itself seemed paltry and half ruinous. The passage in 
 
GUY MANNERING. 223 
 
 which they stood had a window to the close, which admitted a little 
 light during the day-time, and a villanous compound of smells at all 
 times, but more especially towards evening. Corresponding to this 
 window was a borrowed light on the other side of the passage, 
 looking into the kitchen, which had no direct communication with 
 the free air, but received in the day-time, at second hand, such 
 straggling and obscure light as found its way from the lane through 
 the window opposite. At present, fhe interior of the kitchen was 
 visible by its own huge fires — a sort of Pandemonium, where men 
 and women, half undressed, were busied in baking, broiling, roast- 
 ing oysters, and preparing devils on the gridiron ; the mistress of 
 the place, with her shoes slip-shod, and her hair straggling like that 
 of Megaera from under a round-eared cap, toiling, scolding, receiv- 
 ing orders, giving them, and obeying them all at once, seemed the 
 presiding enchantress of that gloomy and fiery region. 
 
 Loud and repeated bursts of laughter, from different quarters of 
 the house, proved that her labours were acceptable, and not unre- 
 warded by a generous public. With some difficulty a waiter was 
 prevailed upon to show Colonel Mannering and Dinmont the room 
 where their friend, learned in the law, held his hebdomadal ca- 
 rousals. The scene which it exhibited, and particularly the attitude 
 of the counsellor himself, the principal figure therein, struck his 
 two clients with amazement. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell was a lively, sharp-looking gentleman, with a pro- 
 fessional shrewdness in his eye, and, generally speaking, a profes- 
 sional formality in his manners. But this, like his three-tailed wig 
 and black coat, he could slip off on a Saturday evening, when sur- 
 rounded by a party of jolly companions, and disposed for what he 
 called his altitudes. On the present occasion, the revel had lasted 
 since four o'clock, and at length, under the direction of a venerable 
 compotator, who had shared the sports and festivity of three gene- 
 rations, the frolicsome company had begun to practise the ancient 
 and now forgotten pastime of High Jinks. This game was played 
 in several different ways. Most frequently, the dice were 
 thrown by the company, and those upon whom the lot fell were 
 obliged to assume and maintain, for a time, a certain fictitious cha- 
 racter, or to repeat a certain number of fescennine verses in a par- 
 ticular order. If they departed from the characters assigned, or if 
 their memory proved treacherous in the repetition, they incurred 
 forfeits, which were either compounded for by swallowing an addi- 
 tional bumper, or by paying a small sum towards the reckoning. 
 At this sport the jovial company were closely engaged when Man- 
 nering entered the room. 
 
 Mr. Counsellor Pleydell, such as we have described him, was 
 
 p 
 
226 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 enthroned, as a monarch, in an elbow-chair, placed on the dining- 
 table, his scratch-wig on one side, his head crowned with a bottle- 
 slider, his eye leering with an expression betwixt fun and the effects 
 of wine, while his court around him resounded with such crambo 
 scraps of verse as these : — 
 
 Where is Gerunto now ? and what's become of him ? 
 Gerunto's drowned because he could not swim, &c, &c. 
 
 Such, O Themis, were anciently the sports of thy Scottish 
 children ! Dinmont was first in the room. He stood aghast a 
 moment,— and then exclaimed, " It's him, sure enough — Deil o' the 
 like o' that ever I saw ! " 
 
 At the sound of " Mr. Dinmont and Colonel Mannering wanting 
 to speak to you, sir," Pleydell turned his head, and blushed a little 
 when he saw the very genteel figure of the English stranger. He 
 was, however, of the opinion of Falstaff, " Out, ye villains, play out 
 the play ! " wisely judging it the better way to appear totally un- 
 concerned. " Where be our guards ? " exclaimed this second Jus- 
 tinian ; " see ye not a stranger knight from foreign parts arrived at 
 this our court of Holyrood, — with our bold yeoman Andrew Din- 
 mont, who has succeeded to the keeping of our royal flocks within 
 the forest of Jedwood, where, thanks to our royal care in the ad- 
 ministration of justice, they feed as safe as if they were within the 
 bounds of Fife ? Where be our heralds, our pursuivants, our Lyon, 
 our Marchmount, our Carrick, and our Snowdown? Let the 
 strangers be placed at our board, and regaled as beseemeth their 
 quality, and this our high holiday — to-morrow we will hear their 
 tidings." 
 
 " So please you, my liege, to-morrow's Sunday," said one of the 
 company. 
 
 " Sunday, is it ? then we will give no offence to the assembly of 
 the kirk — on Monday shall be their audience." 
 
 Mannering, who had stood at first uncertain whether to advance 
 or retreat, now resolved to enter for the moment into the whim of 
 the scene, though internally fretting at Mac-Morlan, for sending 
 him to consult with a crack-brained humourist. He therefore ad- 
 vanced with three profound congees, and craved permission to lay 
 his credentials at the feet of the Scottish monarch, in order to be 
 perused at his best leisure. The gravity with which he accommo- 
 dated himself to the humour of the moment, and the deep and 
 humble inclination with which he at first declined, and then ac- 
 cepted, a seat presented by the master of the ceremonies, procured 
 him three rounds of applause. 
 
 " Deil hae me, if they arena a' mad thegither ! " said Dinmont, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 227 
 
 occupying with less ceremony a seat at the bottom of the table, " or 
 else they hae taen Yule before it comes, and are gaun a-guisarding." 
 
 A large glass of claret was offered to Mannering, who drank it to 
 the health of the reigning prince. " You are, I presume to guess," 
 said the monarch, " that celebrated Sir Miles Mannering, so re- 
 nowned in the French wars, and may well pronounce to us if the 
 wines of Gascony lose their flavour in our more northern realm." 
 
 Mannering, agreeably flattered by this allusion to the fame of his 
 celebrated ancestor, replied, by professing himself only a distant 
 relation of the preux chevalier, and added, " that in his opinion the 
 wine was superlatively good." 
 
 " It's ower cauld for my stamach," said Dinmont, setting down 
 the glass (empty, however). 
 
 " We will correct that quality," answered King Paulus, the first 
 of the name ? " we have not forgotten that the moist and humid air 
 of our valley of Liddel inclines to stronger potations. — Seneschal, 
 let our faithful yeoman have a cup of brandy ; it will be more 
 germain to the matter." 
 
 " And now," said Mannering, " since we have unwarily intruded 
 upon your majesty at a moment of mirthful retirement, be pleased 
 to say when you will indulge a stranger with an audience on 
 those affairs of weight which have brought him to your northern 
 capital." 
 
 The monarch opened Mac-Morlan's letter, and, running it hastily 
 over, exclaimed, with his natural voice and manner, " Lucy Bertram 
 of Ellangowan, poor dear lassie ! " 
 
 " A forfeit ! a forfeit ! " exclaimed a dozen voices ; "his majesty 
 has forgot his kingly character." 
 
 " Not a whit ! not a whit ! " replied the king ; " I'll be judged by 
 this courteous knight. May not a monarch love a maid of low 
 degree ? Is not King Cophetua and the Beggar-maid an adjudged 
 case in point ! " 
 
 " Professional ! professional ! — another forfeit ! " exclaimed the 
 tumultuary nobility. 
 
 " Had not our royal predecessors," continued the monarch, 
 exalting his sovereign voice to drown these disaffected clamours, — 
 "had they not their Jean Logies, their Bessie Carmichaels, their 
 Oliphants, their Sandilands, and their Weirs, and shall it be denied 
 to us even to name a maiden whom we delight to honour ? Nay, 
 then, sink state, and perish sovereignty ! for, like a second Charles 
 V., we will abdicate, and seek in the private shades of life those 
 pleasures which are denied to a throne." 
 
 So saying, he flung away his crown, and sprung from his exalted 
 station with more agility than could have been expected from his 
 
 p 2 
 
S28 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 age, ordered lights and a wash-hand basin and towel, with a cup of 
 green tea, into another room, and made a sign to Mannering to 
 accompany him. In less than two minutes he washed his face and 
 hands, settled his wig in the glass, and, to Mannering's great 
 surprise, looked quite a different man from the childish Bacchanal 
 he had seen a moment before. 
 
 " There are folks," he said, " Mr. Mannering, before whom one 
 should take care how they play the fool — because they have either 
 too much malice, or too little wit, as the poet says. The best com- 
 pliment I can pay Colonel Mannering, is to show I am not ashamed 
 to expose myself before him — and truly I think it is a compliment I 
 have not spared to-night on your good-nature. — But what's that 
 great strong fellow wanting ? " 
 
 Dinmont, who had pushed after Mannering into the room, began 
 with a scrape with his foot and a scratch of his head in unison. " I 
 am Dandie Dinmont, sir, of the Charlies-hope — the Liddesdale 
 lad — ye'll mind me ? — It was for me you won yon grand plea." 
 
 " What plea, you loggerhead ? " said the lawyer ; " d'ye think I 
 can remember all the fools that come to plague me ? " 
 
 " Lord, sir, it was the grand plea about the grazing o' the Lang- 
 tae head," said the farmer. 
 
 " Well, curse thee, never mind ; give me the memorial,* and 
 come to me on Monday at ten," replied the learned counsel. 
 
 " But, sir, I haena got ony distinct memorial." 
 
 " No memorial, man ? " said Pleydell. 
 
 " Na, sir, nae memorial," answered Dandie ; " for your honour 
 said before, Mr. Pleydell, ye'll mind, that ye liked best to hear us 
 hill-folk tell our ain tale by word o' mouth." 
 
 " Beshrew my tongue that said so ! " answered the counsellor ; 
 " it will cost my ears a dinning. — Well, say in two words what you've 
 got to say — you see the gentleman waits." 
 
 " Ou, sir, if the gentleman likes he may play his ain spring first ; 
 it's a' ane to Dandie." 
 
 " Now, you booby," said the lawyer, " cannot you conceive that 
 your business can be nothing to Colonel Mannering, but that he 
 may not choose to have these great ears of thine regaled with his 
 matters ? " 
 
 " Aweel, sir, just as you and he like — so ye see to my business," 
 said Dandie, not a whit disconcerted by the roughness of this 
 reception. " We're at the auld wark o' the marches again, Jock o' 
 Dawston Cleugh and me. Ye see we march on the tap o' Touthop- 
 rigg after we pass the Pomoragrains ; for the Pomoragrains, and 
 Slackenspool, and Bloodylaws, they come in there, and they belang 
 to the Peel ; but after ye pass Pomoragrains at a muckle great 
 
OUY MANNERINU. 229 
 
 saucer -headed cut-lugged stane, that they ca' Charlies Chuckie, 
 there Dawston Cleugh and Charlies-hope they march. Now, I say, 
 the march rins on the tap o' the hill, where the wind and water 
 shears ; but Jock o' Dawston Cleugh again, he contravenes that, 
 and says that it hauds down by the auld drove-road that gaes awa 
 by the Knot o' the Gate ower to Keeldar-ward — and that makes an 
 unco difference." 
 
 " And what difference does it make, friend ?" said Pleydell. " How 
 many sheep will it feed ? " 
 
 " Ou, no mony," said Dandie, scratching his head — " it's lying- 
 high and exposed — it may feed a hog, or aiblins twa in a good 
 year." 
 
 " And for this grazing, which may be worth about five shillings 
 a-year, you are willing to throw away a hundred pound or 
 two?" 
 
 " Na, sir, it's no for the value of the grass," replied Dinmont, 
 "it's for justice." 
 
 " My good friend," said Pleydell, "justice, like charity, should 
 begin at home. Do you justice to your wife and family, and think 
 no more about the matter." 
 
 Dinmont still lingered, twisting his hat in his hand — " It's no for 
 that, sir, — but I would like ill to be bragged wi' him ; — he threeps 
 he'll bring a score o' witnesses and mair — and I'm sure there's as 
 mony will swear for me as for him, folk that lived a' their days 
 upon the Charlies-hope, and wadna like to see the land lose its 
 right." 
 
 " Zounds, man, if it be a point of honour," said the lawyer, " why 
 don't your landlords take it up ? " 
 
 " I dinna ken, sir, (scratching his head again ;) " there's been nae 
 election-dusts lately, and the lairds are unco neighbourly, and Jock 
 and me canna get them to yoke thegither about it, a' that we can 
 say — but if ye thought we might keep up the rent" 
 
 " No ! no ! that will never do," said Pleydell; — "confound you, 
 why don't you take good cudgels and settle it ? " 
 
 " Od, sir," answered the farmer, " we tried that three times 
 already — that's twice on the land and ance at Lockerby fair. But 
 I dinna ken — we're baith gey good at single-stick, and it couldna 
 weel be judged." 
 
 " Then take broadswords, and be d d to you, as your fathers 
 
 did before you," said the counsel learned in the law. 
 
 " Aweel, sir, if ye think it wadna be again the law, it's a' ane to 
 Dandie." 
 
 " Hold ! hold ! " exclaimed Pleydell, " we shall have another 
 Lord Soulis' mis'ake — Pr'ythee, man, comprehend me ; I wish you 
 
830 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 to consider how very trifling and foolish a lawsuit you wish to 
 engage in." 
 
 " Ay, sir ? " said Dandie, in a disappointed tone. " So ye winna 
 take on wi' me, I'm doubting ? " 
 
 " Me ! Not I — go home, go home, take a pint and agree." 
 Dandie looked but half contented, and still remained stationary. 
 " Anything more, my friend ? " 
 
 " Only, sir, about the succession of this leddy that's dead, auld 
 Miss Margaret Bertram o' Singleside." 
 
 " Ay, what about her ? " said the counseller, rather surprised. 
 
 " Ou, we have nae connexion at a' wi' the Bertrams," said 
 Dandie — "they were grand folk by the like o' us— but Jean Liltup, 
 that was auld Singleside's housekeeper, and the mother of these 
 twa young ladies that are gane — the last o' them's dead at a ripe 
 age, I trow — Jean Liltup came out o' Liddle water, and she was 
 as near our connexion as second cousin to my mother's half sister 
 ■ — She drew up wi' Singleside, nae doubt, when she was his house- 
 keeper, and it was a sair vex and grief to a' her kith and kin. But 
 he acknowledged a marriage, and satisfied the kirk— and now I 
 wad ken frae you if we hae not some claim by law ? " 
 
 " Not the shadow of a claim." 
 
 "Aweel, we're nae puirer," said Dandie, — "but she mae hae 
 thought on us if she was minded to make a testament. — Weel, 
 
 sir, I've said my say — I'se e'en wish you good-night, arid" 
 
 putting his hand in his pocket. 
 
 " No, no, my friend ; I never take fees, on Saturday night, or 
 without a memorial — away with you, Dandie." And Dandie made 
 his reverence, and departed accordingly. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 But this poor farce has neither truth, nor art, 
 To please the fancy or to touch the heart. 
 Dark but not awful, dismal but yet mean, 
 With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene ; 
 Presents no objects tender or profound, 
 But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around. 
 
 Parish Register. 
 
 " YOUR majesty," said Mannering, laughing, " has solemnized 
 your abdication by an act of mercy and charity — That fellow will 
 scarce think of going to law." 
 
 " O, you are quite wrong," said the experienced lawyer. " The 
 only difference is, I have lost my client and my fee. He'll s never 
 
GUY MANNERING. 231 
 
 rest till he finds somebody to encourage him to commit the folly he 
 has predetermined — No ! no ! I have only shown you another 
 weakness of my character — I always speak truth of a Saturday 
 night." 
 
 "And sometimes through the week, I should think," said Manner- 
 ing, continuing the same tone. 
 
 " Why, yes ; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, as Hamlet 
 says, indifferent honest, when my clients and their solicitors do not 
 make me the medium of conveying their double-distilled lies to the 
 bench. But oportet vivere ! it is a sad thing. — And now to our 
 business. I am glad my old friend Mac-Morlan has sent you to 
 me ; he is an active, honest, and intelligent man, long sheriff-sub- 
 stitute of the county of ■ under me, and stilt holds the office. 
 
 He knows I have a regard for that unfortunate family of Ellan- 
 gowan, and for poor Lucy. I have not seen her since she was 
 twelve years old, and she was then a sweet pretty girl under the 
 management of a very silly father. But my interest in her is of an 
 early date. I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being then sheriff 
 of that county, to investigate the particulars of a murder which had 
 been committed near Ellangowan the day on which this poor child 
 was born ; and which, by a strange combination that I was un- 
 happily not able to trace, involved the death or abstraction of her 
 only brother, a boy of about five years old. No, Colonel, I shall 
 never forget the misery of the house of Ellangowan that morning ! 
 — the father half-distracted — the mother dead in premature travail 
 — the helpless infant, with scarce any one to attend it, coming wail- 
 ing and crying into this miserable world at such a moment of un- 
 utterable misery. We lawyers are not of iron, sir, or of brass, any 
 more than you soldiers are of steel. We are conversant with the 
 crimes and distresses of civil society, as you are with those that 
 occur in a state of war, and to do our duty in either case, a little 
 apathy is perhaps necessary — But the devil take a soldier whose 
 heart can be as hard as his sword, and his dam catch the lawyer 
 who bronzes his bosom instead of his forehead ! — But come, I am 
 losing my Saturday at e'en— will you have the kindness to trust me 
 with these papers which relate to Miss Bertram's business? — and 
 stay — to-morrow you'll take a bachelor's dinner with an old lawyer, 
 —I insist upon it, at three precisely — and come an hour sooner. — 
 The old lady is to be buried on Monday ; it is the orphan's cause, 
 and we'll borrow an hour from the Sunday to talk over this busi- 
 ness—although I fear nothing can be done if she has altered her 
 settlement — unless perhaps it occurs within the sixty days, and then 
 if Miss Bertram can show that she possesses the character of heir- 
 at-law, why—— 
 
232 GUV MANNERING. 
 
 " But, hark ; my lieges are impatient of their interregnum — I do 
 not invite you to rejoin us, Colonel ; it would be a trespass on your 
 complaisance, unless you had begun the day with us, and gradually 
 glided on from wisdom to mirth, and from mirth to — to — to — extra- 
 vagance — Good-night. — Harry, go home with Mr. Mannering to 
 his lodging. — Colonel, I expect you at a little past two to-morrow." 
 
 The Colonel returned to his inn, equally surprised at the childish 
 frolics in which he had found his learned counsellor engaged, at the 
 candour and sound sense which he had in a moment summoned up 
 to meet the exigencies of his profession, and at the tone of feeling 
 which he displayed when he spoke of the friendless orphan. 
 
 In the morning, while the Colonel and his most quiet and silent 
 of all retainers, Dominie Sampson, were finishing the breakfast 
 which Barnes had made and poured out, after the Dominie had 
 scalded himself in the attempt, Mr. Pleydell was suddenly ushered 
 in. A nicely-dressed bob-wig, upon every hair of which a zealous 
 and careful barber had bestowed its proper allowance of powder ; a 
 well-brushed black suit, with very clean shoes and gold buckles and 
 stock-buckle ; a manner rather reserved and formal than intrusive, 
 but, withal, showing only the formality of manner, by no means 
 that of awkwardness ; a countenance, the expressive and some- 
 what comic features of which were in complete repose, — all showed 
 a being perfectly different from the choice spirit of the evening 
 before. A glance of shrewd and piercing fire in his eye was the 
 only marked expression which recalled the man of " Saturday at 
 e'en." 
 
 " I am come," said he, with a very polite address, "to use my 
 regal authority in your behalf in spirituals as well as temporals — 
 can I accompany you to the Presbyterian kirk, or Episcopal meet- 
 ing-house ? — Tros Tyriusve, a lawyer, you know, is of both re- 
 ligions, or rather I should say of both forms — or can I assist in 
 passing the forenoon otherwise ? — You'll excuse my old-fashioned 
 importunity. I was born in a time when a Scotchman was thought 
 inhospitable if he left a guest alone a moment, except when he slept 
 — but I trust you will tell me at once if I intrude." 
 
 " Not at all, my dear sir," answered Colonel Mannering — " I am 
 delighted to put myself under your pilotage. I should wish much 
 to hear some of your Scottish preachers whose talents have done 
 such honour to your country — your Blair, your Robertson, or your 
 Henry ; and I embrace your kind offer with all my heart — Only," 
 drawing the lawyer a little aside, and turning his eye towards 
 Sampson, " my worthy friend there in the reverie is a little helpless 
 and abstracted, and my servant, Barnes, who is his pilot in ordinary, 
 cannot well assist him here, especially as he has expressed his de- 
 
GUY MANNliRING. 233 
 
 termination of going to some of your darker and more remote 
 places of worship." 
 
 The lawyer's eye glanced at Dominie Sampson. " A curiosity 
 worth preserving — and I'll find you a fit custodier. — Here you, sir," 
 (to the waiter), " go to Luckie Finlayson's in the Cowgate for Miles 
 Macfin the cadie, he'll be there about this time, and tell him I wish 
 to speak to him." 
 
 The person wanted soon arrived. " I will commit your friend to 
 this man's charge," said Pleydell ; " he'll attend him, or conduct 
 him, wherever he chooses to go, with a happy indifference as to 
 kirk or market, meeting or court of justice, or — any other place 
 whatever, and bring him safe home at whatever hour you appoint ; 
 so that Mr. Barnes there may be left to the freedom of his own 
 will." 
 
 This was easily arranged, and the Colonel committed the 
 Dominie to the charge of this man while they should remain in 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 " And now, sir, if you please, we shall go to the Greyfriars 
 church, to hear our historian of Scotland, of the Continent, and of 
 America." 
 
 They were disappointed — he did not preach that morning.— 
 " Never mind," said the counsellor, " have a moment's patience, and 
 we shall do very well." 
 
 The colleague of Dr. Robertson ascended the pulpit." His ex- 
 ternal appearance was not prepossessing. A remarkably fair com- 
 plexion, strangely contrasted with a black wig without a grain of 
 powder ; a narrow chest and a stooping posture ; hands which, 
 placed like props on either side of the pulpit, seemed necessary 
 rather to support the person than to assist the gesticulation of the 
 preacher, — no gown, not even that of Geneva, a tumbled -band, and 
 a gesture which seemed scarce voluntary, were the first circum- 
 stances which struck a stranger. " The preacher seems a very 
 ungainly person," whispered Mannering to his new friend. 
 
 " Never fear ; he's the son of an excellent Scottish lawyer* — 
 he'll show blood, I'll warrant him." 
 
 The learned counsellor predicted truly. A lecture was delivered, 
 fraught with new, striking, and entertaining views of Scripture 
 history — a sermon, in which the Calvinism of the Kirk of Scotland 
 was ably supported, yet made the basis of a sound system of 
 practical morals, which should neither shelter the sinner under the 
 cloak of speculative faith, or of peculiarity of opinion, nor leave 
 him loose to the waves of unbelief and schism. Something there 
 was of an antiquated turn of argument and metaphor, but it only 
 served to give zest and peculiarity to the style of elocution. The 
 
234 GUY MANNERING, 
 
 sermon was not read— a scrap of paper containing the heads of the 
 discourse was occasionally referred to, and the enunciation, which 
 at first seemed imperfect and embarrassed, became, as the preacher 
 warmed in his progress, animated and distinct ; and although the 
 discourse could not be quoted as a correct specimen of pulpit elo- 
 quence, yet Mannering had seldom heard so much learning, meta- 
 physical acuteness, and energy of argument, brought into the 
 service of Christianity. 
 
 " Such," he said, going out of the church, " must have been the 
 preachers to whose unfearing minds, and acute, though sometimes 
 rudely exercised talents, we owe the Reformation." 
 
 "And yet that reverend gentleman," said Pleydell, "whom I love 
 for his father's sake and his own, has nothing of the sour or phari- 
 saical pride which has been imputed to some of the early fathers of 
 the Calvinistic Kirk of Scotland. His colleague and he differ, and 
 head different parties in the kirk, about particular points of church 
 discipline, but without for a moment losing personal regard or 
 respect for each other, or suffering malignity to interfere in an 
 opposition, steady, constant, and apparently conscientious on both 
 sides." 
 
 " And you, Mr. Pleydell, what do you think of their points of 
 difference ? " 
 
 " Why, I hope, Colonel, a plain man may go to heaven without 
 thinking about them at all ; — besides, inter nos, I am a member of 
 the suffering and Episcopal Church of Scotland— the shadow of a 
 shade now, and fortunately so ;— but I love to pray where my 
 fathers prayed before me, without thinking worse of the Presby- 
 terian forms because they do not affect me with the same associa- 
 tions." And with this remark they parted until dinner-time. 
 
 From the awkward access to the lawyer's mansion, Mannering 
 was induced to form very moderate expectations of the entertain- 
 ment which he was to receive. The approach looked even more 
 dismal by daylight than on the preceding evening. The houses on 
 each side of the lane were so close, that the neighbours might have 
 shaken hands with each other from the different sides, and occa- 
 sionally the space between was traversed by wooden galleries, and 
 thus entirely closed up. The stair, the scale-stair, was not well 
 cleaned ; and on entering the house, Mannering was struck with 
 the narrowness and meanness of the wainscotted passage. But the 
 library, into which he was shown by an elderly respectable-looking 
 man-servant, was a complete contrast to these unpromising appear- 
 ances. It was a well-proportioned room, hung with a portrait or 
 two of Scottish characters of eminence, by Jamieson, the Caledonian 
 Vandyke, and surrounded with books, the best editions of the 
 
GUY MANNERING. 235 
 
 best authors, and in particular, an admirable collection of 
 classics. 
 
 " These," said Pleydell, " are my tools of trade. A lawyer with- 
 out history or literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason ; if 
 he possesses some knowledge of these, he may venture to call him- 
 self an architect." 
 
 But Mannering was chiefly delighted with the view from the 
 windows, which commanded that incomparable prospect of the 
 ground between Edinhurgh and the sea ; the Frith of Forth, with 
 its islands ; the embayment which is terminated by the Law of 
 North Berwick ; and the varied shores of Fife to the northward, 
 indenting with a hilly outline the clear blue horizon. 
 
 When Mr. Pleydell had sufficiently enjoyed the surprise of his 
 guest, he called his attention to Miss Bertram's affairs. " I was in 
 hopes," he said, " though but faint, to have discovered some means 
 of ascertaining her indefeasible right to this property of Singleside ; 
 but my researches have been in vain. The old lady was certainly 
 absolute fiar, and might dispose of it in full right of property. All 
 that we have to hope is, that the devil may not have tempted her to 
 alter this very proper settlement. You must attend the old girl's 
 funeral to-morrow, to which you will receive an invitation, for I 
 have acquainted her agent with your being here on Miss Bertram's 
 part ; and I will meet you afterwards at the house she inhabited, 
 and be present to see fair play at the opening of the settlement. 
 The old cat had a little girl, the orphan of some relation, who lived 
 with her as a kind of slavish companion. I hope she has had the 
 conscience to make her independent, in consideration of the peine 
 forte et dure to which she subjected her during her lifetime." 
 
 Three gentlemen now appeared, and were introduced to the 
 stranger. They were men of good sense, gaiety, and general 
 information, so that the day passed very pleasantly over ; and 
 Colonel Mannering assisted, about eight o'clock at night, in dis- 
 cussing the landlord's bottle, which was, of course, a magnum. 
 Upon his return to the inn, he found a. card inviting him to the 
 funeral of Miss Margaret Bertram, late of Singleside, which was 
 to proceed from her own house to the place of interment in the 
 Greyfriars churchyard, at one o'clock afternoon. 
 
 At the appointed hour, Mannering went to a small house in the 
 suburbs to the southward of the city, where he found the place of 
 mourning, indicated, as usual in Scotland, by two rueful figures 
 with long black cloaks, white crapes and hat-bands, holding in 
 their hands poles, adorned with melancholy streamers of the same 
 description. By two other mutes, who, from their visages, seemed 
 suffering under the pressure of some strange calamity, he was 
 
236 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 ushered into the dining-parlour of the defunct, where the company 
 were assembled for the funeral. 
 
 In Scotland, the custom, now disused in England, of inviting 
 the relations of the deceased to the interment, is universally re- 
 tained. On many occasions this has a singular and striking effect, 
 but it degenerates into mere empty form and grimace, in cases 
 where the defunct has had the misfortune to live unbeloved and 
 die unlamented. The English service for the dead, one of the 
 most beautiful and impressive parts of the ritual of the church, 
 would have, in such cases, the effect of fixing the attention, and 
 uniting the thoughts and feelings of the audience present, in an 
 exercise of devotion so peculiarly adapted to such an occasion. 
 But, according to the Scottish custom, if there be not real feeling 
 among the assistants, there is nothing to supply the deficiency, and 
 exalt or rouse the attention ; so that a sense of tedious form, and 
 almost hypocritical restraint, is too apt to pervade the company 
 assembled for the mournful solemnity. Mrs. Margaret Bertram 
 was unluckily one of those whose good qualities had attached no 
 general friendship. She had no near relations who might have 
 mourned from natural affection, and therefore her funeral exhibited 
 merely the exterior trappings of sorrow. 
 
 Mannering, therefore, stood among this lugubrious company ot 
 cousins in the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth digree, composing his 
 countenance to the decent solemnity of all who were around him, 
 and looking as much concerned on Mrs. Margaret Bertram's 
 account, as if the deceased lady of Singleside had been his own 
 sister or mother. After a deep and awful pause, the company 
 began to talk aside — under their breaths, however, and as if in the 
 chamber of a dying person. 
 
 " Our poor friend," said one grave gentleman, scarcely opening 
 his mouth, for fear of deranging the necessary solemnity of his 
 features, and sliding his whisper from between his lips, which were 
 as little unclosed as possible—" our poor friend has died well to 
 pass in the world." 
 
 " Nae doubt," answered the person addressed, with half-closed 
 eyes ; " poor Mrs. Margaret was aye careful of the gear." 
 
 " Any news to-day, Colonel Mannering ? " said one of the gen- 
 tlemen whom he had dined with the day before, but in atone 
 which might, for its impressive gravity, have communicated the 
 death of his whole generation. 
 
 " Nothing particular, I believe sir," said Mannering, in the 
 cadence which was, he observed, appropriated to the house of 
 mourning. 
 
 ' I understand," continued the first speaker, emphatically, and 
 
GUY MANNERING. 237 
 
 with the air of one who is well informed — " I understand there is 
 a settlement." 
 
 " And what does little Jenny Gibson get ? " 
 
 " A hundred, and the auld repeater." 
 
 " That's but sma' gear, puir thing ; she had a sair time 
 o't with the auld leddy. But it's ill waiting for dead folk's 
 shoon." 
 
 " I am afraid," said the politician, who was close by Mannering, 
 " we have not done with your old friend Tippoo Saib yet — I doubt 
 he'll give the Company more plague ; and I am told, but you'll 
 know for certain, that East India Stock is not rising." 
 
 " I trust it will, sir, soon." 
 
 " Mrs. Margaret," said another person, mingling in the conversa- 
 tion, " had some India bonds. I kn,ow that, for I drew the interest 
 for her — it would be desirable now for the trustees and legatees to 
 have the Colonel's advice about the time and mode of converting 
 them into money. For my part I think. — But there's Mr. Mort- 
 cloke to tell us they are gaun to lift." 
 
 Mr. Mortcloke the undertaker did accordingly, with a visage of 
 professional length and most grievous solemnity, distribute among 
 the pall-bearers little cards, assigning their respective situations in 
 attendance upon the coffin. As this precedence is supposed to be 
 regulated by propinquity to the defunct, the undertaker, however 
 skilful a master of these lugubrious ceremonies, did not escape 
 giving some offence. To be related to Mrs. Bertram was to be of 
 kin to the lands of Singleside, and was a propinquity of which each 
 relative present at that moment was particularly jealous. Some 
 murmurs there were on the occasion, and our friend Dinmont gave 
 more open offence, being unable either to repress his discontent, or 
 to utter it in the key properly modulated to the solemnity. " I 
 think ye might hae at least gi'en me a leg o' her to carry," he ex- 
 claimed, in a voice considerably louder than propriety admitted. 
 " God ! and it hadna been for the rigs o' land, I would hae gotten 
 her a' to carry mysell, for as mony gentles as are here." 
 
 A score of frowning and reproving brows were bent upon the 
 unappalled yeoman, who, having given vent to his displeasure, 
 stalked sturdily down stairs with the rest of the company, totally 
 disregarding the censures of those whom his remarks had scan- 
 dalized. 
 
 And then the funeral pomp set forth ; saulies with their batons, 
 and gumphions of tarnished white crape, in honour of the well- 
 preserved maiden fame of Mrs. Margaret Bertram. Six starved 
 horses, themselves the very emblems of mortality, well cloaked and 
 plumed, lugging along the hearse with its dismal emblajomy, crept 
 
238 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 in slow state towards the place of interment, preceded by Jamie 
 Duff, an idiot, who with weepers and cravat made of white paper, 
 attended on every funeral, and followed by six mourning coaches, 
 filled with the company. Many of these now gave more free loose 
 to their tongues, and discussed with unrestrained earnestness the 
 amount of the succession, and the .probability of its destination. 
 The principal expectants, however, kept a prudent silence, indeed 
 ashamed to express hopes which might prove fallacious ; and 
 the agent, or man of business, who alone knew exactly how mat- 
 ters stood, maintained a countenance of mysterious importance, 
 as if determined to preserve the full interest of anxiety and 
 suspense. 
 
 At length they arrived at the churchyard gates, and from thence, 
 amid the gaping of two or three dozen of idle women with infants 
 in their arms, and accompanied by some twenty children, who 
 ran gamboling and screaming alongside of the sable procession, 
 they finally arrived at the burial-place of the Singleside family. 
 This was a square enclosure in the Greyfriars churchyard, guarded 
 on one side by a veteran angel, without a nose, and having only 
 one wing, who had the merit of having maintained his post for 
 a century, while his comrade cherub, who had stood sentinel on 
 the corresponding pedestal, lay a broken trunk among the hem- 
 lock, burdock, and nettles, which grew in gigantic luxuriance 
 around the walls of the mausoleum. A moss-grown and broken 
 inscription informed the reader, that in the year 1650 Captain 
 Andrew Bertram, first of Singleside, descended of the very ancient 
 and honourable house of Ellangowan, had caused this monument 
 to be erected for himself and his descendants. A reasonable 
 number of scythes and hour-glasses, and death's heads, and cross 
 bones, garnished the following sprig of sepulchral poetry, to the 
 memory of the founder of the mausoleum : 
 
 Nathaniel's heart, Bezaleel's hand, 
 If ever any had, 
 
 These boldly do I say had he, 
 Who lieth in this bed. 
 
 Here, then, amid the deep black fat loam into which her an- 
 cestors were now resolved, they deposited the body of Mrs. Mar- 
 garet Bertram ; and, like soldiers returning from a military 
 funeral, the nearest relations who might be interested in the 
 settlements of the lady, urged the dog-cattle of the hackney 
 coaches to all the speed of which they were capable, in order to 
 put an end to farther suspense on that interesting topic. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Die and endow a college or a cat. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 There is a fable told by Lucian, that while a troop of monkeys, 
 well drilled by an intelligent manager, were performing a tragedy 
 with great applause, the decorum of the whole scene was at once 
 destroyed, and the natural passions of the actors called forth 
 into very indecent and active emulation, by a wag who threw a 
 handful of nuts upon the stage. In like manner, the approaching 
 crisis stirred up among the expectants feelings of a nature very 
 different from those of which, under the superintendence of Mr. 
 Mortcloke, they had but now been endeavouring to imitate the 
 expression. Those eyes which were lately devoutly cast up to 
 heaven, or with greater humility bent solemnly upon earth, were 
 now sharply and alertly darting their glances through shuttles, and 
 trunks, and drawers, and cabinets, and all the odd corners of an 
 old maiden lady's repositories. Nor was their search without 
 interest, though they did not find the will of which they were in 
 quest. 
 
 Here was a promissory-note for £%o by the minister of the 
 Jionjuriwg chapel, interest marked as paid to Martinmas last, 
 carefully folded up in a new set of words to the old tune of 
 " Over the Water to Charlie ; " — there, was a curious love corre- 
 spondence between the deceased and a certain Lieutenant O'Kean 
 of a marching regiment of foot ; and tied up with the letters was 
 a document, which at once explained to the relatives why a con- 
 nexion that boded them little good had been suddenly broken off, 
 being the Lieutenant's bond for two hundred pounds, upon which 
 no interest whatever appeared to have been paid. Other bills 
 and bonds to a larger amount, and signed by better names (I 
 mean commercially) than those of the worthy divine and gallant 
 soldier, also occurred in the course of their researches, besides a 
 hoard of coins of every size and denomination, and scraps of 
 broken gold and silver, old ear-rings, hinges of cracked snuff- 
 boxes, mountings of spectacles, &c. &c. &c. Still no will made its 
 appearance, and Colonel Mannering began full well to hope that 
 the settlement which he had obtained from Glossin contained the 
 ultimate arrangement of the old lady's affairs. But his friend 
 Pleydell, who now came into the room, cautioned him against 
 entertaining this belief. 
 
 " I am well acquainted with the gentleman," he said, " who is 
 
240 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 conducting the search, and I guess from his manner that he 
 knows something more of the matter than any of us." Meantime, 
 while the search proceeds, let us take a brief glance at one or 
 two of the company, who seem most interested. 
 
 Of Dinmont, who, with his large hunting-whip under his arm, 
 stood poking his great round face over the shoulder of the 
 homme d'affaires, it is unnecessary to say anything. That thin- 
 looking oldish person, in a most correct and gentleman-like suit 
 of mourning, is Mac-Casquil, formerly of Drumquag, who was 
 ruined by having a legacy bequeathed to him of two shares in the 
 Ayr bank. His hopes on the present occasion are founded on a 
 very distant relationship, upon his sitting in the same pew with 
 the deceased every Sunday, and upon his playing at cribbage with 
 her regularly on the Saturday evenings — taking great care never to 
 come off a winner. That other coarse-looking man, wearing his 
 own greasy hair tied in a leathern cue more greasy still, is a tobac- 
 conist, a relation of Mrs. Bertram's mother, who, having a good 
 stock in trade when the colonial war broke out, trebled the price of 
 his commodity to all the world, Mrs. Bertram alone excepted, 
 whose tortoise-shell snuff-box was weekly filled with the best 
 rappee at the old prices, because the maid brought it to the shop 
 with Mrs. Bertram's respects to her cousin Mr. Quid. That young 
 fellow, who has not had the decency to put off his boots and 
 buckskins, might have stood as forward as most of them in the 
 graces of the old lady, who loved to look upon a comely young 
 man ; but it is thought he has forfeited the moment of fortune, 
 by sometimes neglecting her tea-table when solemnly invited ; 
 sometimes appearing there, when he had been dining with blither 
 company ; twice treading upon her cat's tail, and once affronting 
 her parrot. 
 
 To Mannering, the most interesting of the group was the poor 
 girl, who had been a sort of humble companion of the deceased, 
 as a subject upon whom she could at all times expectorate her 
 bad humour. She was for form's sake dragged into the room by 
 the deceased's favourite female attendant, where, shrinking into a 
 corner as soon as possible, she saw with wonder and affright the 
 intrusive researches of the strangers amongst those recesses to 
 which from childhood she had looked with awful veneration. 
 This girl was regarded with an unfavourable eye by all the com- 
 petitors, honest Dinmont only excepted ; the rest conceived they 
 should find in her a formidable competitor, whose claims might 
 at least encumber and diminish their chance of succession. Yet 
 she was the only person present who seemed really to feel sorrow 
 for the deceased. Mrs, Bertram had been her protectress^ although 
 
GUY MANNERING. 241 
 
 from selfish motives, and her capricious tyranny was forgotten at 
 the moment while the tears followed each other fast down the 
 cheeks of her frightened and friendless dependent. "There's 
 ower muckle saut water there, Drumquag," said the tobacconist 
 to the ex-proprietor, " to bode ither folk muckle gude. Folk 
 seldom greet that gate but they ken what it's for." Mr. Mac- 
 Casquil only replied with a nod, feeling the propriety of asserting 
 his superior gentry in presence of Mr. Pleydell and Colonel 
 Mannering. 
 
 "Very queer if there suld be nae will after a' friend," said Din- 
 mont, who began to grow impatient, to the man of business. 
 
 "A moment's patience, if you please — she was a good and 
 p.-udent woman, Mrs. Margaret Bertram — a good and prudent and 
 well-judging woman, and knew how to choose friends and deposi- 
 tories — she may have put her last will and testament, or rather her 
 mortis causa settlement, as it relates to heritage, into the hands of 
 some safe friend." 
 
 " I'll bet a rump and dozen," said Pleydell whispering to the 
 Colonel, " he has got it in his own pocket ;" — then addressing the 
 man of law, " Come, sir, we'll cut this short if you please — here is 
 a settlement of the estate of Singleside, executed several years ago, 
 
 in favour of Miss Lucy Bertram of Ellangowan " The company 
 
 stared fearfully wild. " You, I presume, Mr. Protocol, can inform 
 us if there is a later deed ? " 
 
 " Please to favour me, Mr. Pleydell ;" — and so saying he took the 
 deed out of the learned counsel's hand, and glanced his eye over 
 the contents. 
 
 " Too cool," said Pleydell, " too cool by half — he has another 
 deed in his pocket still." 
 
 " Why does he not show it then, and be d — d to him ! " said the 
 military gentleman, whose patience began to wax threadbare. 
 
 "Why, how should I know?" answered the barrister — "why 
 does a cat not kill a mouse when she takes him? — the conscious- 
 ness of power and the love of teasing, I suppose. — Well, Mr. 
 Protocol, what say you to that deed ? " 
 
 "Why, Mr. Pleydell, the deed is a well-drawn deed, properly 
 authenticated and tested in forms of the statute." 
 
 " But recalled or superseded by another of posterior date in your 
 possession, eh ? " said the counsellor. 
 
 " Something of the sort, I confess, Mr. Pleydell," rejoined the 
 man of business, producing a bundle tied with tape, and sealed at 
 each fold and ligation with black wax. " That deed, Mr. Pleydell, 
 which you produce and found upon, is dated 1st June 17 — ; but 
 this" — breaking the seals and unfolding the document slowly — "is 
 
 Q 
 
2+8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 dated the 20th — no, I see it is the 21st of April of this present year, 
 being ten years posterior." 
 
 " Marry, hang her, brock ! " said the counsellor, borrowing an 
 exclamation from Sir Toby Belch, " just the month in which Ellan- 
 gowan's distresses became generally public. But let us hear what 
 she has done." 
 
 Mr. Protocol, accordingly, having required silence, began to read 
 the settlement aloud in a slow, steady, business-like tone. The 
 group around, in whose eyes hope alternately awakened and faded, 
 and who were straining their apprehensions to get at the drift of 
 the testator's meaning through the mist of technical language in 
 which the conveyance had involved it, might have made a study 
 for Hogarth. 
 
 The deed was of an unexpected nature. It set forth with con- 
 veying and disponing all and whole the estate and lands of Single- 
 side and others, with the lands of Loverless, Liealone, Spinster's 
 Knowe, and heaven knows what beside, "to and in favours of" 
 (here the reader softened his voice to a gentle and modest piano) 
 " Peter Protocol, clerk to the signet, having the fullest confidence 
 in his capacity and integrity, (these are the very words which my 
 worthy deceased friend insisted upon my inserting), but in trust 
 always," (here the reader recovered his voice and style, and the 
 visages of several of the hearers, which had attained a longitude 
 that Mr. Mortcloke might have envied, were perceptibly shortened), 
 " in trust always, and for the uses, ends, and purposes herein-after 
 mentioned." 
 
 In these " uses, ends, and purposes," lay the cream of the affair. 
 The first was introduced by a preamble setting forth, that the 
 testatrix was lineally descended from the ancient house of Ellan- 
 gowan, her respected great-grandfather, Andrew Bertram, first of 
 Singleside, of happy memory, having been second son to Allan 
 Bertram, fifteenth Baron of Ellangowan. It proceeded to state, 
 that Henry Bertram, son and heir of Godfrey Bertram, now of 
 Ellangowan, had been stolen from his parents in infancy, but that 
 she, the testatrix, was well assured that he was yet alive in foreign 
 farts, and by the providence of heaven would be restored to the pos- 
 sessions of his ancestors — in which case the said Peter Protocol was 
 bound and obliged, likeas he bound and obliged himself, by accept- 
 ance of these presents, to denude himself of the said lands of 
 Singleside and others, and of all the other effects thereby conveyed 
 (excepting always a proper gratification for his own trouble) to and 
 in favour of the said Henry Bertram upon his return to his native 
 country. And during the time of his residing in foreign parts, or 
 jn case of his never again returning to Scotland, Mr. Peter Protocol, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 243 
 
 the trustee, was directed to distribute the rents of the land, and 
 interest of the other funds (deducting always a proper gratification 
 for his trouble in the premises), in equal portions, among four 
 charitable establishments pointed out in the will. The power of 
 management, of letting leases, of raising and lending out money, in 
 short, the full authority of a proprietor, was vested in this confiden- 
 tial trustee, and, in the event of his death, went to certain official 
 persons named in the deed. There were only two legacies ; one of 
 a hundred pounds to a favourite waiting-maid, another of the like 
 sum to Janet Gibson (whom the deed stated to have been supported 
 by the charity of the testatrix) for the purpose of binding her an 
 apprentice to some honest trade. 
 
 A settlement in mortmain is in Scotland termed a mortification, 
 and in one great borough (Aberdeen, if I remember rightly) there 
 is a municipal officer who takes care of these public endowments, 
 and is thence called the Master of Mortifications. One would 
 almost presume that the term had its origin in the effect which such 
 settlements usually produce upon the kinsmen of those by whom 
 they are executed. Heavy at least was the mortification which 
 befell the audience, who, in the late Mrs. Margaret Bertram's 
 parlour, had listened to this unexpected destination of the lands of 
 Singleside. There was a profound silence after the deed had been 
 read over. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell was the first to speak. He begged to look at the 
 deed, and having satisfied himself that it was correctly drawn and 
 executed, he returned it without any observation, only saying aside 
 to Mannerirtg, " Protocol is not worse than other people, I believe ; 
 but this old lady has determined, that if he do not turn rogue, it 
 shall not be for want of temptation." 
 
 " I really think," said Mr. Mac-Casquil of Drumquag, who, 
 having gulped down one half of his vexation, determined to give 
 vent to the rest, " I really think this is an extraordinary case ! 
 I should like now to know from Mr. Protocol, who, being sole and 
 unlimited trustee, must have been consulted upon this occasion ; 
 I should like, I say, to know, how Mrs. Bertram could possibly 
 believe in the existence of a boy, that a' the world kens was mur- 
 dered many a year since ? " 
 
 " Really, sir," said Mr. Protocol, " I do not conceive it is possible 
 for me to explain her motives more than she has done herself. Our 
 excellent deceased friend was a good woman, sir — a pious woman — 
 and might have grounds for confidence in the boy's safety which 
 are not accessible to us, sir." 
 
 " Hout," said the tobacconist, " I ken very weel what were her 
 grounds for confidence. There's Mrs. Rebecca (the maid) sitting 
 
 Q 2 
 
244 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 there, has tell'd me a hundred times in my ain shop, there was nae 
 kenning how her leddy wad settle her affairs, for an auld gipsy witch 
 wife at Gilsland had possessed her with a notion, that the callant — 
 Harry Bertram ca's she him ? — would come alive again someday 
 after a' — ye'U no deny that, Mrs. Rebecca ? — though I dare to say 
 ye forgot to put your mistress in mind of what ye promised to say 
 when I gied ye mony a half-crown — But ye'll no deny what I am 
 saying now, lass ? " 
 
 " I ken naething at a' about it," answered Rebecca, doggedly, and 
 looking straight forward with the firm countenance of one not 
 disposed to be compelled to remember more than was agreeable 
 to her. 
 
 " Weel said, Rebecca ! ye're satisfied wi' your ain share, ony 
 way," rejoined the tobacconist. 
 
 The buck of the second-head, for a buck of the first-head he was 
 not, had hitherto been slapping his boots with his switch-whip, and 
 looking like a spoiled child that has lost its supper. His murmurs, 
 however, were all vented inwardly, or at most in a soliloquy such 
 as this — " I am sorry, by G — d, I ever plagued myself about her — 
 I came here, by G — d, one night to drink tea, and I left King, and 
 the Duke's rider, Will Hack. They were toasting a round of 
 running horses ; by G — d, I might have got leave to wear the 
 jacket as well as other folk, if I had carried it on with them— and 
 she has not so much as left me that hundred ! " 
 
 " We'll make the payment of the note quite agreeable," said Mr. 
 Protocol, who had no wish to increase at that moment the odium 
 attached to his office — " And now, gentlemen, I fancy we have no 
 more to wait for here, and — I shall put the settlement of my excel- 
 lent and worthy friend on record to-morrow, that every gentleman 
 may examine the contents, and have free access to take an extract ; 
 and " — he proceeded to lock up the repositories of the deceased 
 with more speed than he had opened them — " Mrs. Rebecca, ye'll 
 be so kind as to keep all right here until we can let the house — 
 I had an offer from a tenant this morning, if such a thing should be, 
 and if I was to have any management." 
 
 Our friend Dinmont, having had his hopes as well as another, 
 had hitherto sate sulky enough in the arm-chair formerly appro- 
 priated to the deceased, and in which she would have been not 
 a little scandalized to have seen this colossal specimen of the 
 masculine gender lolling at length. His employment had been 
 rolling up, into the form of a coiled snake, the long lash of his 
 horse-whip, and then by a jerk causing it to unroll itself into the 
 middle of the floor. The first words he said when he had digested 
 the shock, contained a magnanimous declaration, which he pro- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 245 
 
 bably was not conscious of having uttered aloud — " Weel — blude's 
 thicker than water — she's welcome to the cheeses and the hams 
 just the same." But when the trustee had made the above-men- 
 tioned motion for the mourners to depart, and talked of the house 
 being immediately let, honest Dinmont got upon his feet, and 
 stunned the company with this blunt question, " And what's to 
 come o' this poor lassie then, Jenny Gibson? Sae mony o' us as 
 thought oursells sib to the family when the gear was parting, we 
 may do something for her amang us, surely." 
 
 This proposal seemed to dispose most of the assembly instantly 
 to evacuate the premises, although upon Mr. Protocol's motion they 
 had lingered as if around the grave of their disappointed hopes. 
 Drumquag said, or rather muttered, something of having a family 
 of his own, and took precedence, in virtue of his gentle blood, to 
 depart, as fast as possible. The tobacconist sturdily stood forward 
 and scouted the motion — " A little huzzie like that was weel eneugh 
 provided for already ; and Mr. Protocol, at ony rate, was the proper 
 person to take direction of her, as he had charge of her legacy ; " 
 and after uttering such his opinion in a steady and decisive tone of 
 voice, he also left the place. The buck made a stupid and brutal 
 attempt at a jest upon Mrs. Bertram's recommendation that the 
 poor girl should be taught some honest trade ; but encountered a 
 scowl from Colonel Mannering's darkening eye (to whom, in his 
 ignorance of the tone of good society, he had looked for applause) 
 that made him ache to the very back-bone. He shuffled down 
 stairs, therefore, as fast as possible. 
 
 Protocol, who was really a good sort of man, next expressed his 
 intention to take a temporary charge of the young lady, under 
 protest always, that his so doing should be considered as merely 
 eleemosynary ; when Dinmont at length got up, and having shaken 
 his huge dreadnought great-coat, as a Newfoundland dog does his 
 shaggy hide when he comes out of the water, ejaculated, " Weel, 
 deil hae me then, if ye hae ony fash wi' her, Mr. Protocol, if she 
 likes to gang hame wi' me, that is. Ye" see, Ailie and me we're 
 weel to pass, and we would like the lassies to hae a wee bit mair 
 lair than oursells, and to be neighbour-like — that wad we. — And ye 
 see Jenny canna miss but to ken manners, and the like o' reading 
 books, and sewing seams — having lived sae lang wi' a grand lady 
 like Lady Singleside ; or if she disna ken onything about it, I'm 
 jealous that our bairns will like her a' the better. And I'll take 
 care o' the bits o' claes, and what spending siller she maun hae ; so 
 the hundred pound may rin on in your hands, Mr. Protocol, and 
 I'll be adding something till't, till she'll maybe get a Liddesdale joe 
 that wants something to help to buy the hirsel.* — What d'ye say to 
 
246 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 that, hinny ? I'll take out a ticket for ye in the fly to Jethart — Od, 
 but ye maun take a powny after that o'er the Limestane rig — deil 
 a wheeled carriage ever gaed into Liddesdale.* — And I'll be very 
 glad if Mrs. Rebecca comes wi' you, hinny, and stays a month or 
 twa while ye're stranger like." 
 
 While Mrs. Rebecca was curtsying, and endeavouring to make 
 the poor orphan girl curtsy instead of crying, and while Dandie, in 
 his rough way, was encouraging them both, old Pleydell had re- 
 course to his snuff-box. " It's meat and drink to me now, Colonel," 
 
 he said, as he recovered himself, " to see a clown like this 1 
 
 must gratify him in his own way— must assist him to ruin himself; 
 —there's no help for it. Here, you Liddesdale— Dandie— Charlies- 
 hope — what do they call you ?" 
 
 The farmer turned, infinitely gratified even by this sort of notice ; 
 for in his heart, next to his .own landlord, he honoured a lawyer in 
 high practice. 
 
 " So you will not be advised against trying that question about 
 your marches ?" 
 
 "No —no, sir— naebody likes to lose their right, and to be laughed 
 at doun the haill water. But since your honour's no agreeable, 
 and is may be a friend to the other side like, we maun try some 
 other advocate." 
 
 " There — I told you so, Colonel Mannering ? — Well, sir, if you 
 must needs be a fool, the business is to give you the luxury of a 
 lawsuit at the least possible expense, and to bring you off con- 
 queror if possible. Let Mr. Protocol send me your papers, and I 
 will advise him how to conduct your cause. I don't see, after all, 
 why you sh6uld not have your lawsuits too, and your feuds in 
 the Court of Session, as well as your forefathers had their man- 
 slaughters and fire-raisings." 
 
 " Very natural, to be sure, sir. We wad just take the auld gate 
 as readily, if it werena for the law. And as the law binds us, the 
 law should loose us. Besides, a man's aye the better thought o' in 
 our country for having been afore the Feifteen." 
 
 " Excellently argued, my friend ! Away with you, and send 
 your papers to me. — Come, Colonel, we have no more to do 
 here." 
 
 "God, we'll ding Jock o' Pawston Cleugh now, after a'l" said 
 Dinmont, slapping his thigh in great exultation. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 947 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 ■ I am going to the parliament ; 
 
 You understand this bag : if you have any business 
 Depending there, be short, and let me hear it, 
 And pay your fees. 
 
 Little French Lawyer. 
 
 " Shall you be able to carry this honest fellow's cause for him ?" 
 said Mannering. 
 
 " Why, I don't know ; the battle is not to the strong, but he 
 shall come off triumphant over Jock of Dawston if we can make it 
 out. I owe him something. It is the pest of our profession, that 
 we seldom see the best side of human nature. People come to us 
 with every selfish feeling newly pointed and grinded ; they turn 
 down the very caulkers of their animosities and prejudices, as 
 smiths do with horses' shoes in a white frost. Many a man has 
 come to my garret yonder, that I have at first longed to pitch out 
 at the window, and yet, at length, have discovered that he was only 
 doing as I might have done in his case, being very angry, and, of 
 course, very unreasonable. I have now satisfied myself, that if 
 our profession sees more of human folly and human roguery than 
 others, it is because we witness them acting in that channel in 
 which they can most freely vent themselves. In civilized society, 
 law is the chimney through which all that smoke discharges itself 
 that used to circulate through the whole house, and put every one's 
 eyes out — no wonder, therefore, that the vent itself should some- 
 times get a little sooty. But we will take care our Liddesdale 
 man's cause is well conducted and well argued, so all unnecessary 
 expense will be saved — he shall have his pine-apple at wholesale 
 price." 
 
 " Will you do me the pleasure," said Mannering, as they parted, 
 " to dine with me at my lodgings ? my landlord says he has a bit 
 of red-deer venison, and some excellent wine." 
 
 "Venison — eh?" answered the counsellor alertly, but presently 
 added—" But no ! it's impossible — and I can't ask you home 
 neither. Monday's a sacred day — so's Tuesday — and Wednesday, 
 we are to be heard in the great teind case in presence — But stay 
 —it's frosty weather, and if you don't leave town, and that venison 
 would keep till Thursday" 
 
 " You will dine with me that day ?" 
 
 " Under certification." 
 
 " Well, then, I will indulge a thought I had of spending a week 
 
2-|8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 here ; and if the venison, will not keep, why we will see what else 
 our landlord can do for us." 
 
 " O, the venison will keep," said Pleydell ; " and now good-bye ; 
 — look at these two or three notes, and deliver them if you like the 
 addresses. I wrote them for you this morning — Farewell ; my 
 clerk has been waiting this hour to begin a d — d information." — 
 And away walked Mr. Pleydell with great activity, diving through 
 closes and ascending covered stairs, in order to attain the High 
 Street by an access, which, compared to the common route, was 
 what the Straits of Magellan are to the more- open but circuitous 
 passage round Cape Horn. 
 
 On looking at the notes of introduction which Pleydell had 
 thrust into his hand, Mannering was gratified with seeing that 
 they were addressed to some of the first literary characters of 
 Scotland. "To David Hume, Esq." "To John Home, Esq." 
 " To Dr. Ferguson." " To Dr. Black." " To Lord Kaimes." "To 
 Mr. Hutton." "To John Clerk, Esq. of Eldin." "To Adam 
 Smith, Esq." " To Dr. Robertson." 
 
 " Upon my word, my legal friend has a good selection of ac- 
 quaintances — these are names pretty widely blown indeed — an 
 East-Indian must rub up his faculties a little, and put his mind in 
 order, before he enters this sort of society." 
 
 Mannering gladly availed himself of these introductions ; and 
 we regret deeply it is not in our power to give the reader an account 
 of the pleasure and information which he received, in admission to 
 a circle never closed against strangers of sense and information, 
 and which has perhaps at no period been equalled, considering 
 the depth and variety of talent which it embraced and con- 
 centrated. 
 
 Upon the Thursday appointed, Mr. Pleydell made his appear- 
 ance at the inn where Colonel Mannering lodged. The venison 
 proved in high order, the claret excellent ; and the learned counsel, 
 a professed amateur in the affairs of the table, did distinguished 
 honour to both. I am uncertain, however, if even the good cheer 
 gave him more satisfaction than the presence of Dominie Sampson, 
 from whom, in his own juridical style of wit, he contrived to extract 
 great amusement, both for himself and one or two friends whom 
 the Colonel regaled on the same occasion. The grave and laconic 
 simplicity of Sampson's answers to the insidious questions of the 
 barrister, placed the bonhomie of his character in a more luminous 
 point of view than Mannering had yet seen it. Upon the same 
 occasion he drew forth a strange quantity of miscellaneous and 
 abstruse, though, generally speaking, useless learning. The lawyer 
 afterwards compared his mind to the magazine of a pawnbroker. 
 
GUY MANNU.RING a 4 g 
 
 stowed with goods of every description, but so cumbrously piled 
 together, and in such total disorganization, that the owner can 
 never lay his hands upon any one article at the moment he has 
 occasion for it. 
 
 As for the advocate himself, he afforded at least as much exercise 
 to Sampson as he extracted amusement from him. When the man 
 of law began to get into his altitudes, and his wit, naturally shrewd 
 and dry, became more lively and poignant, the Dominie looked 
 upon him with that sort of surprise with which we can conceive a 
 tame bear might regard his future associate, the monkey, on their 
 being first introduced to each other. It was Mr. Pleydell's delight 
 to state in grave and serious argument some position which he 
 knew the Dominie would be inclined to dispute. He then beheld 
 with exquisite pleasure the internal labour with which the honest 
 man arranged his ideas for reply, and tasked his inert and sluggish 
 powers to bring up all the heavy artillery of his learning for de- 
 molishing the schismatic or heretical opinion which had been stated 
 — when, behold ! before the ordnance could be discharged, the foe 
 had quitted the post, and appeared in a new position of annoyance 
 on the Dominie's flank or rear. Often did he exclaim "Pro- 
 digious ! " when, marching up to the enemy in full confidence of 
 victory, he found the field evacuated ; and it may be supposed that 
 it cost him no little labour to attempt a new formation. " He was 
 like a native Indian army," the Colonel said, "formidable by 
 numerical strength and size of ordnance, but liable to be thrown 
 into irreparable confusion by a movement to take them in flank." 
 — On the whole, however, the Dominie, though somewhat fatigued 
 with these mental exertions, made at unusual speed and upon the 
 pressure of the moment, reckoned this one of the white days of his 
 life, and always mentioned Mr. Pleydell as a very erudite and 
 fa-ce-ti-ous person. 
 
 By degrees the rest of the party dropped off, and left these three 
 gentlemen together. Their conversation turned to Mrs. Bertram's 
 settlements. " Now what could drive it into the noddle of that old 
 harridan," said Pleydell, " to disinherit poor Lucy Bertram, under 
 pretence of settling her property on a boy who has been so long 
 dead and gone ? — I ask your pardon, Mr. Sampson, I forgot what 
 an affecting case this was for you — I remember taking your exa- 
 mination upon it — and I never had so much trouble to make any 
 one speak three words consecutively. — You may talk of your 
 Pythagoreans, or your silent Bramins, Colonel, — go to, I tell you 
 this learned gentleman beats them all in taciturnity — but the words 
 of the wise are precious, and not to be thrown away lightly." 
 
 " Of a surety," said the Dominie, taking his blue-checqued 
 
25° GUY MANNERING. 
 
 handkerchief from his eyes, " that was a bitter day with me indeed; 
 ay, and a day of grief hard to be borne— but He giveth strength 
 who layeth on the load." 
 
 Colonel Mannering took this opportunity to request Mr. Pleydell 
 to inform him of the particulars attending the loss of the boy ; and 
 the counsellor, who was fond of talking upon subjects of criminal 
 jurisprudence, especially when connected with his own experience, 
 went through the circumstances at full length. " And what is your 
 opinion upon the result of the whole ?" 
 
 " O, that Kennedy was murdered : it's an old case which has 
 occurred on that coast before now — the case of Smuggler versus 
 Exciseman." 
 
 " What, then, is your conjecture concerning the fate of the 
 child ?" 
 
 " O, murdered too, doubtless," answered Pleydell. " He was old 
 enough to tell what he had seen, and these ruthless scoundrels 
 would not scruple committing a second Bethlehem massacre, if 
 they thought their interest required it." 
 
 The Dominie groaned deeply, and ejaculated, " Enormous I" 
 
 " Yet there was mention of gipsies in the business too, counsellor," 
 said Mannering, "and from what that vulgar-looking fellow said 
 after the funeral " 
 
 " Mrs. Margaret Bertram's idea that the child was alive was 
 founded upon the report of a gipsy," said Pleydell, catching at the 
 half-spoken hint—" I envy you the concatenation, Colonel — it is a 
 shame to me not to have drawn the same conclusion. We'll 
 follow this business up instantly — Here, hark ye, waiter, — go down 
 to Luckie Wood's in the Cowgate ; ye'll find my clerk Driver ; he'll 
 be set down to High-Jinks by this time (for we and our retainers, 
 Colonel, are exceedingly regular in our irregularities ;) tell him to 
 come here instantly, and I will pay his forfeits." 
 
 " He won't appear in character, will he ?" said Mannering. 
 
 " Ah ! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me," said Pleydell. 
 " But we must have some news from the land of Egypt, if possible. 
 O, if I had but hold of the slightest thread of this complicated 
 skein, you should see how I would unravel it ! — I would work the 
 truth out of your Bohemian, as the French call them, better than a 
 Monitoire, or a Plainte de Tournelle : I know how to manage a 
 refractory witness." 
 
 While Mr. Pleydell was thus vaunting his knowledge of his pro- 
 fession, the waiter re-entered with Mr. Driver, his mouth still 
 greasy with mutton pies, and the froth of the last draught of two- 
 penny yet unsubsided on his upper lip, with such speed had he 
 obeyed the commands of his principal.—" Driver, you must go 
 
GUY MANNERING. 251 
 
 instantly and find out the woman who was old Mrs. Margaret 
 Bertram's maid. Inquire for her everywhere ; but if you find it 
 necessary to have recourse to Protocol, Quid the tobacconist, or 
 any other of these folks, you will take care not to appear yourself, 
 but send some woman of your acquaintance — 1 d are say you know 
 enough that may be so condescending as to oblige you. When you 
 have found her out, engage her to come to my chambers to-morrow 
 at eight o'clock precisely." 
 
 " What shall I say to make her forthcoming ? " asked the aide- 
 de-camp. 
 
 " Anything you choose,'' replied the lawyer. " Is it my business 
 to make lies for you, do you think ? But let hei'be infirczsentiahy 
 eight o'clock, as I have said before." The clerk grinned, made his 
 reverence, and exit. 
 
 " That's a useful fellow," said the counsellor; "I don't believe 
 his match ever carried a process. He'll write to my dictating three 
 nights in the week without sleep, or, what's the same thing, he 
 writes as well and correctly when he's asleep as when he's awake. 
 Then he's such a steady fellow — some of them are always changing 
 their alehouses, so that they have.twenty cadies sweating after them, 
 like the bare-headed captains traversing the taverns of East-Cheap 
 in search of Sir John Falstaff. But this is a complete fixture ; — he 
 has his winter seat by the fire, and his summer seat by the window, 
 in Luckie Wood's, betwixt which seats are -his only migrations ; 
 there he's to be found at all times when he is off duty. It is my 
 opinion he never puts off his clothes or goes to sleep — sheer ale 
 supports him under everything. It is meat, drink, and clothing, bed, 
 board, and washing." 
 
 " And is he always fit for duty upon a sudden turn-out ? I should 
 distrust it, considering his quarters." 
 
 " O, drink never disturbs him, Colonel ; he can write for hours 
 after he cannot speak. I remember being called suddenly to draw * 
 an appeal case. I had been dining, and it was Saturday night, and 
 I had ill will to begin to it ; — however, they got me down to Cleri- 
 hugh's, and there we sat birling till I had a fair tappit hen* under 
 my belt, and then they persuaded me to draw the paper. Then we 
 had to seek Driver, and it was all that two men could do to bear 
 him in, for, when found, he was, as it happened, both motionless 
 and speechless. But no sooner was his pen put between his fin- 
 gers, his paper stretched before him, and he heard my voice, than 
 he began to write like a scrivener— and, excepting that we were 
 obliged to have somebody to dip his pen in the ink, for he could 
 not see the standish, I never saw a thing scrolled more hand- 
 somely." 
 
=33 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " But how did your joint production look the next morning?" 
 said the Colonel. 
 
 " Wheugh ! capital — not three words required to be altered ;* it 
 was sent off by that day's post. But you'll come and breakfast with 
 me to-morrow, and hear this woman's examination ? " 
 " Why, your hour is rather early." 
 
 " Can't make it later. If I were not on the boards of the Outer- 
 house precisely as the nine-hours bell rings, there would be a report 
 that I had got an apoplexy, and I should feel the effects of it all the 
 rest of the session." 
 
 " Well, I will make an exertion to wait upon you." 
 Here the company broke up for the evening. 
 In the morning, Colonel Mannering appeared at the counsellor's 
 chambers, although cursing the raw air of a Scottish morning in 
 December. Mr. Pleydell had got Mrs. Rebecca installed on one 
 side of his fire, accommodated her with a cup of chocolate, and was 
 already deeply engaged in conversation with her. " O no, I assure 
 you, Mrs. Rebecca, there is no intention to challenge your mistress's 
 will ; and I give you my word of honour that your legacy is quite 
 safe. You have deserved it by your conduct to your mistress, and I 
 wish it had been twice as much." 
 
 " Why, to be sure, sir, it's no right to mention what is said before 
 ane — ye heard how that dirty body Quid cast up to me the bits o' 
 compliments he gied me, and tell'd ower again ony loose cracks I 
 might hae had wi' him ; now if ane was talking loosely to your 
 honour, there's nae saying what might come o't." 
 
 " I assure you, my good Rebecca, my character and your own age 
 and appearance are your security, if you should talk as loosely as 
 an amatory poet." 
 
 " Aweel, if your honour thinks I am safe — the story is just this. 
 — Ye see, about a year ago, or no just sae lang, my leddy was ad- 
 vised to go to Gilsland for a while, for her spirits were distressing 
 her sair. Ellangowan's troubles began to be spoken o' publicly, 
 and sair vexed she was — for she was proud o' her family. For 
 Ellangowan himsell and her, they sometimes 'greed, and sometimes 
 no — but at last they didna 'grec at a' for tvva or three year — for he 
 was aye wanting to borrow siller, and that was what she .couldna 
 bide at no hand, and she was aye wanting it paid back again, and 
 that the Laird he liked as little. So, at last, they were clean aff 
 thegither. And then some of the company at Gilsland tells her 
 that the estate was to be sell'd ; and ye wad hae thought she had 
 taen an ill will at Miss Lucy Bertram frae that moment, for mony 
 a time she cried to me, ' O Becky, O Becky, if that useless peenging 
 thing o' a lassie there at Ellangowan, that canna keep her ne'er-do- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 253 
 
 weel father within bounds — if she had been but a lad-bairn, they 
 couldna hae sell'd the auld inheritance for that fool-body's debts ; ' 
 —and she would rin on that way till I was just wearied and sick to 
 hear her ban the puir lassie, as if she wadna hae been a lad-bairn, 
 and keepit the land, if it had been in her will to change her sect. 
 And ae day at the spaw-well, below the craig at Gilsland she was 
 seeing a very bonny family o' bairns — they belanged to ane Mac- 
 Crosky— and she broke out — ' Is not it an oddlike thing that ilka 
 waf carle* in the country has a son and heir, and that the house of 
 Ellangowan is without male succession ? ' There was a gipsy wife 
 stood ahint and heard her — a muckle sture fearsome-looking wife 
 she was as ever I set een on. — ' Wha is it,' says she, ' that dare say 
 the house of Ellangowan will perish without male succession ? ' 
 My mistress just turned on her — she was a high-spirited woman, 
 and aye ready wi' an ansv/er to a' body. ' It's me that says it,' says 
 she, ' that may say it with a sad heart.' Wi' that the gipsy wife 
 gripped till her hand : ' I ken you weel eneugh,' says she, ' though 
 ye kenna me — But as sure as that sun's in heaven, and as sure as 
 that water's rinning to the sea, and as sure as there's an ee that 
 sees, and an ear that hears us baith, — Harry Bertram, that was 
 thought to perish at Warroch Point, never did die there — he was 
 to have a weary weird o't till his ane-and-twentieth year, that was 
 aye said o' him — but if ye live and I live, ye'll hear mair o' him this 
 winter before the snaw lies-twa days on the Dun of Singleside — I 
 want nane o' your siller,' she said, ' to make ye think I am blearing 
 your ee — fare ye weel till after Martinmas.' — And there she left us 
 "standing.' 
 
 " Was she a very tall woman ? " interrupted Mannering. 
 
 " Had she black hair, black eyes, and a cut above the brow ? " 
 added the lawyer. 
 
 " She was the tallest woman I ever saw, and her hair was as black 
 as midnight, unless where it was grey, and she had a scar abune 
 the brow, that ye might hae laid the lith of your finger in. Naebody 
 that's seen her will ever forget her ; and I am morally sure that it 
 was on the ground o' what that gipsy-woman said that my mistress 
 made her will, having taen a dislike at the young leddy o' Ellan- 
 gowan ; and she liked her far waur after she was obliged to send 
 her £20, — for she said Miss Bertram, no content wi' letting the 
 Ellangowan property pass into strange hands, owing to her being 
 a lass and no a lad, was coming, by her poverty, to be a burden 
 and a disgrace to Singleside too.— But I hope my mistress's is a 
 good will for a' that, for it would be hard on me to lose the wee bit 
 legacy— I served for little fee and bountith, weel I wot." 
 The counsellor relieved her fears on this head, then inquired after 
 
2S4 GUV MANNEfelKG. 
 
 Jenny Gibson, and understood she had accepted Mr. Dinmont's 
 offer ; and " I have done sae mysell too, since he was sae discreet 
 as to ask me," said Mrs. Rebecca ; " they are very decent folk the 
 Dinmonts, though my lady didna dow to hear muckle about the 
 friends on that side the house. But she liked the Charlies-hope 
 hams, and the cheeses, and the muir-fowl, that they were aye send- 
 ing, and the lamb's-wool hose and mittens — she liked them weel 
 eneuch." 
 
 Mr. Pleydell now dismissed Mrs. Rebecca. When she was gone, 
 " I think I know the gipsy-woman," said the lawyer. 
 " I was just going to say the same," replied Mannering. 
 
 " And her name," said Pleydell 
 
 " Is Meg Merrilies," answered the Colonel. 
 " Are you avised of that ? " said the counsellor, looking at his 
 military friend with a comic expression of surprise. 
 
 Mannering answered, " that he had known such a woman when 
 he was at Ellangowan upwards of twenty years before ; " and then 
 made his learned friend acquainted with all the remarkable parti- 
 culars of his first visit there. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell listened with great attention, and then replied, " I 
 congratulated myself upon having made the acquaintance of a pro- 
 found theologian in your chaplain ; but I really did not expect to 
 find a pupil of Albumazar or Messahala in his patron. I have a 
 notion, however, this gipsy could tell us some more of the matter 
 than she derives from astrology or second-sight — I had her through 
 hands once, and could then make little of her ; but I must write to 
 Mac-Morlan to stir heaven and earth to find her out. I will gladly 
 
 come to shire myself to assist at her examination— I am still 
 
 in the commission of the peace there, though I have ceased to be 
 sheriff. I never had anything more at heart in my life than tracing 
 that murder, and the fate of the child. I must write to the sheriff 
 of Roxburghshire too, and to an active justice of peace in Cum- 
 berland." 
 
 " I hope when you come to the country you will make Wood- 
 bourne your head-quarters ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; I was afraid you were going to forbid me— But we 
 must go to breakfast now, or I shall be too late." 
 
 On the following day the new friends parted, and the Colonel 
 rejoined his family without any adventure worthy of being detailed 
 in these chapters. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 235 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Can no rest find me, no private place secure me, 
 But still my miseries like bloodhounds haunt me ? 
 Unfortunate young man, which way now guides thee, 
 Guides thee from death ? The country's laid around for thee. 
 
 Women Pleased. 
 
 Our narrative now recalls us for a moment to the period when 
 young Hazlewood received his wound. That accident had np 
 sooner happened than the consequences to Miss Mannering and to 
 himself rushed upon Brown's mind. From the manner in which 
 the muzzle of the piece was pointed when it went off, he had no great 
 fear that the consequences would be fatal. But an arrest in a 
 strange country, and while he was unprovided with any means of 
 establishing his rank and character, was at least to be avoided. He 
 therefore resolved to escape for the present to the neighbouring 
 coast of England, and to remain concealed there, if possible, until 
 he should receive letters from his regimental friends, and remit- 
 tances from his agent ; and then to resume his own character, and 
 offer to young Hazlewood and his friends any explanation or satis- 
 faction they might desire. With this purpose he walked stoutly 
 forward, after leaving the spot where the accident had happened, 
 and reached without adventure the village which we have called 
 Portanferry (but which the reader will in vain seek for under that 
 name in the county map.) A large open boat was just about to 
 leave the quay, bound for the little seaport of Allonby, in Cum- 
 berland. In this vessel Brown embarked, and resolved to make 
 that place his temporary abode, until he should receive letters and 
 money from England. 
 
 In the course of their short voyage he entered into some conver- 
 sation with the steersman, who was also owner of the boat, a jolly 
 old man, who had occasionally been engaged in the smuggling 
 trade, like most fishers on the coast. After talking about objects of 
 less interest, Brown endeavoured to turn the discourse toward 
 the Mannering family. The sailor had heard of the attack upon 
 the house at Woodbourne, but disapproved of the smugglers' pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 " Hands off is fair play. Zounds ! they'll bring the whole country 
 down upon them — na, na ! when I was in that way, I played at 
 giff-gaff with the officers — here a cargo taen — vera weel, that was 
 their luck ; — there another carried clean through, that was mine— 
 na, na ! hawks shouldna pike out hawks' een." 
 
=56 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " And this Colonel Mannering ? " said Brown. 
 
 " Troth, he's nae wise man neither, to interfere— no t'nat I blame 
 him for saving the gaugers' lives— that was very right ; but it wasna 
 like a gentleman to be fighting about the poor folk's pocks o' tea 
 and brandy kegs— however, he's a grand man and an officer man, 
 and they do what they like wi' the like o' us." 
 
 " And his daughter," said Brown, with a throbbing heart, " is 
 going to be married into a great family too, as I have heard ? " 
 
 " What, into the Hazlewood's ? " said the pilot. " Na, na, that's 
 but idle clashes— every Sabbath day, as regularly as it came round, 
 did the young man ride hame wi' the daughter of the late Ellan- 
 gowan ;— and my daughter Peggy's in the service up at Wood- 
 bourne, and she says she's sure young Hazlewood thinks nae mair 
 of Miss Mannering than you do." 
 
 Bitterly censuring his own precipitate adoption of a contrary 
 belief, Brown yet heard with delight that the suspicions of Julia's 
 fidelity, upon which he had so rashly acted, were probably void of 
 foundation. How must he in the meantime be suffering in her 
 opinion ? or what could she suppose of conduct, which must have 
 made him appear to her regardless alike of her peace of mind, and 
 of the interests of their affection ? The old man's connexion with 
 the family at Woodbourne seemed to offer a safe mode of com- 
 munication, of which he determined to avail himself. 
 
 " Your daughter is a maid-servant at Woodbourne ? — I knew 
 Miss Mannering in India, and though I am at present in an inferior 
 rank of life, I have great reason to hope she would interest herself 
 in my favour. I had a quarrel unfortunately with her father, who 
 was my commanding-officer, and I am sure the young lady would 
 endeavour to reconcile him to me. Perhaps your daughter could 
 deliver a letter to her upon the subject, without making mischief 
 between her father and her ? " 
 
 The old man, a friend to smuggling of every kind, readily 
 answered for the letter's being faithfully and secretly delivered ; 
 and, accordingly, as soon as they arrived at Allonby, Brown wrote 
 to Miss Mannering, stating the utmost contrition for what had 
 happened through his rashness, and conjuring her to let him have 
 an opportunity of pleading his own cause, and obtaining forgiveness 
 for his indiscretion. He did not judge it safe to go into any detail 
 concerning the circumstances by which he had been misled, and 
 upon the whole endeavoured to express himself with such ambiguity, 
 that if the letter should fall into wrong hands, it would be difficult 
 either to understand its real purport, or to trace the writer. This 
 letter the old man undertook faithfully to deliver to his daughter at 
 Woodbourne ; and, as his trade would speedily again bring him or 
 
GUY MANNERING. 257 
 
 his boat to Allonby, he promised farther to take charge of any 
 answer with which the young lady might intrust him. 
 
 And now our persecuted traveller landed at Allonby, and sought 
 for such accommodations as might at once suit his temporary 
 poverty, and his desire of remaining as much unobserved as pos- 
 sible. With this view he assumed the name and profession of his 
 friend Dudley, having command enough of the pencil to verify his 
 pretended character to his host "of Allonby. His baggage he pre- 
 tended to expect from Wigton ; and keeping himself as much 
 within doors as possible, awaited the return of the letters which he 
 had sent to his agent, to Delaserre, and to his Lieutenant-Colonel. 
 From the first he requested a supply of money ; he cenjured 
 Delaserre, if possible, to join him in Scotland ; and from the 
 Lieutenant-Colonel he required such testimony of his rank and 
 conduct in the regiment, as should place his character as a gentle- 
 man and officer beyond the power of question. The inconvenience 
 of being run short in his finances struck him so strongly, that he 
 wrote to Dinmont on that subject, requesting a small temporary 
 loan, having no doubt that, being within sixty or seventy miles of 
 his residence, he should receive a speedy as well as favourable 
 answer to his request of pecuniary accommodation, which was 
 owing, as he stated, to his having been robbed after their parting. 
 And then, with impatience enough* though without any serious 
 apprehension, he waited the answers of these various letters. 
 
 It must be observed, in excuse of his correspondents, that the 
 post was then much more tardy than since Mr. Palmer's ingenious 
 invention has taken place ; and with respect to honest Dinmont in 
 particular, as he rarely received above one letter a quarter (unless 
 during the time of his being engaged in a law-suit, when he regu- 
 larly sent to the post-town), his correspondence usually remained 
 for a month or two sticking in the postmaster's window, among 
 pamphlets, gingerbread, rolls, or ballads, according to the trade 
 which the said postmaster exercised. Besides, there was then 
 a custom, not yet wholly obsolete, of causing a letter, from one 
 town to another, perhaps within the distance of thirty miles, per- 
 form a circuit of two hundred miles before delivery ; which had the 
 combined advantage of airing the epistle thoroughly, of adding 
 some pence to the revenue of the post-office, and of exercising the 
 patience of the correspondents. Owing to these circumstances, 
 Brown remained several days in Allonby without any answers 
 whatever; and his stock of money, though husbanded with the 
 utmost economy, began to wear very low, when he received, by the 
 hands of a young fisherman, the following letter : — 
 
 " You have acted with the most cruel indiscretion ; you have 
 
 £ 
 
E 5 8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 ■shown how little I ca.i trust to your declarations that my peace 
 «md happiness are dear to you ; and your rashness has nearly 
 occasioned the death of a young man of the highest worth and 
 honour. Must I say more ? — must I add, that I have been myself 
 very ill in consequence of your violence and its effects ? And, alas ! 
 need I say still farther, that I have thought anxiously upon them as 
 they are likely to affect you, although you have given me such 
 slight cause to do so ? The C. is gone from home for several days ; 
 Mr. H. is almost quite recovered ; and I have reason to think that 
 the blame is laid in a quarter different from that where it is de- 
 served. Yet do not think of venturing here. Our fate has been 
 crossed by accidents of a nature too violent and terrible to permit 
 me to think of renewing a correspondence which has so often 
 threatened the most dreadful catastrophe. Farewell, therefore, and 
 believe that no one can wish your happiness more sincerely than 
 
 " J. M." 
 
 This letter contained that species of advice, which is frequently 
 given for the precise purpose that it may lead to a directly opposite 
 conduct from that which it recommends. At least so thought 
 Brown, who immediately asked the young fisherman if he came 
 from Portanferry. 
 
 " A)-," said the lad ; " I am auld Willie Johnstone's son, and I 
 got that letter frae my sister Peggy, that's laundry-maid at Wood- 
 bourne." 
 
 " My good friend, when do you sail ? " 
 
 " With the tide this evening." 
 
 " I'll return with you ; but as I do not desire to go to Portanferry, 
 I wish you could put me on shore somewhere on the coast." 
 
 " We can easily do that," said the lad. 
 
 Although the price of provisions, &c. was then very moderate, 
 the discharging his lodgings, and the expense of his living, together 
 with that of a change of dress, which safety, as well as a proper 
 regard to his external appearance, rendered necessary, brought 
 Brown's purse to a very low ebb. He left directions at the post- 
 office that his letters should be forwarded to Kippletringan, whither 
 he resolved to proceed, and reclaim the treasure which he had depo- 
 sited in the hands of Mrs. Mac-Candlish. He also felt it would be 
 his duty to assume his proper character as soon as he should receive 
 the necessary evidence for supporting it, and, as an officer in the 
 king's service, give and receive every explanation which might be 
 necessary with young Hazlewood. " If he is not very wrong- 
 headed indeed," he thought, "he must allow the manner in which 
 I acted, to have been the necessary consequence of his own ove\ 
 bearing conduct " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 259 
 
 And now we must suppose him once more embarked on the 
 Solway frith. The wind was adverse, attended by some rain, and 
 they struggled against it without much assistance from the tide. 
 The boat was heavily laden with goods (part of which were pro- 
 bably contraband), and laboured deep in the sea. Brown, who had 
 been bred a sailor, and was indeed skilled in most athletic exer- 
 cises, gave his powerful apd effectual assistance in rowing, or occa- 
 sionally in steering the boat, and his advice in the management, 
 which became the more delicate as the wind increased, and, being 
 opposed to the very rapid tides of that coast, made the voyage 
 perilous. At length, after spending the whole night upon the 
 frith, they were at morning within sight of a beautiful bay upon the 
 Scottish coast. The weather was now more mild. The snow 
 which had been for some time waning, had given way entirely 
 under the fresh gale of the preceding night. The more distant 
 hills, indeed, retained their snowy mantle, but all the open country 
 was cleared, unless where a few white patches indicated that it had 
 been drifted to an uncommon depth. Even under its wintry ap ■ 
 pearance, the shore was highly interesting. The line of sea-coast, 
 with all its varied curves, indentures, and embayments, swept away 
 from the sight on either hand, in that varied, intricate, yet graceful 
 and easy line, which the eye loves so well to pursue. And it was 
 no less relieved and varied in elevation than in outline, by the dif- 
 ferent forms of the shore ; the beach in some places being edged 
 by steep rocks, and in qthers rising smoothly from the sands in 
 easy and swelling slopes. Buildings of different kinds caught and 
 reflected the wintry sunbeams of a December morning, and the 
 woods, though now leafless, gave relief and variety to the landscape. 
 Brown felt that lively and awakening interest which taste and 
 sensibility always derive from the bewties of nature, when opening 
 suddenly to the eye, after the dulness and gloom 1 of a night voyage. 
 Perhaps — for who can presume to analyze that inexplicable feeling 
 which binds the person born in a mountainous country to his native 
 hills — perhaps some early associations, retaining their effect long 
 after the cause was forgotten, mingled in the feelings of pleasure 
 with which he regarded the scene before him. 
 
 " And what," said Brown to the boatman, " is the name of that 
 fine cape, that stretches into the sea with its sloping banks and 
 hillocks of wood, and forms the right side of the bay ? " 
 
 " Warroch Point," answered the lad. 
 
 " And that old castle, my friend, with the modern house situated 
 just beneath it ? It seems at this distance a very large building." 
 
 " That's the Auld Place, sir ; and that's the New Place below it. 
 We'll land you there, if you like." 
 
 R 2 
 
«6o GUY MANNER1NG. 
 
 " I should like it of all things. I must visit that ruin before 
 I continue my journey." 
 
 " Ay, it's a queer auld bit," said the fisherman ; " and that highest 
 tower is a gude land-mark as far as Ramsay in Man, and the Point 
 of Ayr ; — there was muckle fighting about the place langsyne." 
 
 Brown would have inquired into farther particulars, but a fisher- 
 man is seldom an antiquary. His boatman's local knowledge was 
 summed up in the information already given, " that it was a grand 
 land-mark, and that there had been muckle fighting about the bit 
 langsyne." 
 
 " I shall learn more of it," said Brown to himself, ■' when I get 
 ashore." 
 
 The boat continued its course close under the point upon which 
 the castle was situated, which frowned from the summit of its rocky 
 site upon the still agitated waves of the bay beneath. " I believe," 
 said the steersman, "ye'll get ashore here as dry as ony gate. 
 There's a place where their berlins and galleys, as they ca'd them, 
 used to lie in langsyne, but it's no used now, because it's ill carry- 
 ing gudes up the narrow stairs, or ower the rocks. Whiles of 
 a moonlight night I have landed articles there, though." 
 
 While he thus spoke, they pulled round a point of rock, and 
 found a very small harbour, partly formed by nature, partly by the 
 indefatigable labour of the ancient inhabitants of the castle, who, as 
 the fisherman observed, had found it essential for the protection of 
 their boats and small craft, though it could not receive vessels of 
 any burden. The two points of rock which formed the access 
 approached each other so nearly, that only one boat could enter at 
 a time. On each side were still remaining two immense iron rings, 
 deeply morticed into the solid rock. Through these, according to 
 tradition, there was nightly drawn a huge chain, secured by an 
 immense padlock, for the protection of the haven, and the armada 
 which it contained. A ledge of rock had, by the assistance of the 
 chisel and pick-axe, been formed into a sort of quay. The rock 
 was of extremely hard consistence, and the task so difficult, that, 
 according to the fisherman, a labourer who wrought at the work, 
 might in the evening have carried home in his bonnet all the 
 shivers which he had struck from the mass in the course of the 
 day. This little quay communicated with a rude staircase, already 
 repeatedly mentioned, which descended from the old castle. There 
 was also a communication between the beach and the quay, by 
 scrambling over the rocks. 
 
 " Ye had better land here," said the lad, " for the surf's running 
 high at the Shellicoat-stane, and there will no be a dry thread 
 amang us or we get the cargo out. — Na ! na ! " (in answer to an 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 261 
 
 offer of money) " ye have wrought for your passage, and wrought 
 far better than ony o' us. Gude-day to ye : I wiiss ye weel." 
 
 So saying, he pushed off in order to land his cargo on the opposite 
 side of the bay ; and Brown, with a small bundle in his hand, con- 
 taining the trifling stock of necessaries which he had been obliged 
 to purchase at Allonby, was left on the rocks beneath the ruin. 
 
 And thus, unconscious as the most absolute stranger, and in 
 circumstances which, if not destitute, were for the present highly 
 embarrassing ; without the countenance of a friend within the 
 circle of several hundred miles ; accused of a heavy crime, and, 
 what was as bad as all the rest, being nearly penniless, did the 
 harassed wanderer, for the first time after the interval of so many 
 years, approach the remains of the castle where his ancestors had 
 exercised all but regal dominion. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 -Yes, ye moss-green walls, 
 
 Ye towers defenceless, I revisit ye 
 
 Shame-stricken ! Where are all your trophies now ? 
 
 Your thronged courts, the revelry, the tumult, 
 
 That spoke the grandeur of my house, the homage 
 
 Of neighbouring Barons ? Mysterious Mother. 
 
 Entering the castle of Ellangowan by a postern door-way, 
 which showed symptoms of having been once secured with the 
 :nost jealous care, Brown (whom, since he has set foot upon the 
 property of his fathers, we shall hereafter call by his father's name 
 of Bertram) wandered from one ruined apartment to another, sur- 
 prised at the massive strength of some parts of the building, the 
 rude and impressive magnificence of others, and the great extent 
 of the whole. In two of these rooms, close beside each other, he 
 saw signs of recent habitation. In one small apartment were 
 empty bottles, half-gnawed bones, and dried fragments of bread. 
 In the vault which adjoined, and which was defended by a strong 
 door, then left open, he observed a considerable quantity of straw ; 
 and in both were the relics of recent fires. How little was it pos- 
 sible for Bertram to conceive, that such trivial circumstances were 
 closely connected with incidents affecting his prosperity, his honour, 
 perhaps his life. 
 
 After satisfying his curiosity by a hasty glance through the 
 interior of the castle, Bertram now advanced through the great 
 gateway which opened to the land, and paused to look upon the 
 noble landscape which it commanded. Having in vain endeavoured 
 
26a GUY MANNERING. 
 
 to guess the position of Woodbourne, and having nearly ascertained 
 that of Kippletringan, he turned to take a parting look at the, 
 stately ruins which he had just traversed. He admired the massive 
 and picturesque effect of the huge round towers, which, flanking 
 the gateway, gave a double portion of depth and majesty to the 
 high yet gloomy arch under which it opened. The carved stone 
 escutcheon of the ancient family, bearing for their arms three 
 wolves' heads, was hung diagonally beneath the helmet and crest, 
 the latter being a wolf couchant pierced with an arrow. On either 
 side stood as supporters, in full human size, or larger, a salvage 
 manproper, to use the language of heraldry, wreathed and cinctured, 
 and holding in his hand an oak tree eradicated, that is, torn up by 
 the roots. 
 
 " And the powerful barons who owned this blazonry," thought 
 Bertram, pursuing the usual train of ideas which flows upon the 
 mind at such scenes, — " do their posterity continue to possess the 
 lands which they had laboured to fortify so strongly? or are they 
 wanderers, ignorant perhaps even of the fame or power of their 
 forefathers, while their hereditary possessions are held by a race of 
 strangers ? Why is it," he thought, continuing to follow out the 
 succession of ideas which the scene prompted — " why is it that 
 some scenes awaken thoughts which belong as it were to dreams 
 of early and shadowy recollection, such as my old Bramin Moon- 
 shie would have ascribed to a state of previous existence ? Is it 
 the visions of our sleep that float confusedly in our memory, and 
 are recalled by the appearance of such real objects as in any re- 
 spect correspond to the phantoms they presented to our imagina- 
 tion ! How often do we find ourselves in society which we have 
 never before met, and yet feel impressed with a mysterious and ill- 
 defined consciousness, that neither the scene, the speakers, nor the 
 subject, are entirely new ; nay, feel as if we could anticipate that 
 part of the conversation which has not yet taken place ! It is even 
 so with me while I gaze upon that ruin ; nor can I divest myself of 
 the idea, that these massive towers, and that dark gateway, retiring 
 through its deep-vaulted and ribbed arches, and dimly lighted by 
 the court-yard beyond, are not entirely strange to me. Can it be, 
 that they have been familiar to me in infancy, and that I am to 
 seek in their vicinity those friends of whom my childhood has still 
 a tender though faint remembrance, and whom I early exchanged 
 for such severe taskmasters ? Yet Brown, wljo I think would not 
 have deceived me, always told me I was brought off from the eastern 
 coast, after a skirmish in which my father was killed ; and I do re- 
 member enough of a horrid scene of violence to strengthen his 
 account." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 263 
 
 It happened that the spot upon which young Bertram chanced to 
 station himself for the better viewing the castle, was nearly the 
 same on which his father died. It was marked by a large old oak 
 tree, the only one on the esplanade, and which, having been used 
 for executions by the barons of Ellangowan, was called the Justice- 
 Tree. It chanced, and the coincidence was remarkable, that 
 Glossin was this morning engaged with a person, whom he was in 
 the habit of consulting in such matters, concerning some projected 
 repairs, and a large addition to the house of Ellangowan, and that, 
 having no great pleasure in remains so intimately connected with 
 the grandeur of the former inhabitants, he had resolved to use the 
 stones of the ruinous castle in his new edifice. Accordingly he 
 came up the bank, followed by the land surveyor mentioned on a 
 former occasion, who was also in the habit of acting as a sort of 
 architect in case of necessity. In drawing the plans, &c, Glossin 
 was in the custom of relying upon his own skill. Bertram's back 
 was towards them as they came up the ascent, and he way quite 
 shrouded by the branches of the large tree, so that Glossin was 
 not aware of the presence of the stranger till he was close upon 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, sir, as I have often said before to you, the Old Place is a 
 perfect quarry of hewn stone, and it would be better for the estate 
 if it were all down, since it is only a den for smugglers." At 
 this instant Bertram turned short round upon Glossin at the 
 distance of two yards only, and said, — " Would you destroy this 
 fine old castle, sir?" 
 
 His face, person, and voice, were so exactly those of his father in 
 his best days, that Glossin, hearing his exclamation, and seeing 
 such a sudden apparition in the shape of his patron, and on nearly 
 the very spot where he had expired, almost thought the grave had 
 given up its dead ! — He staggered back two or three paces, as if 
 he had received a sudden and deadly wound. He instantly re- 
 covered, however, his presence of mind, stimulated by the thrilling 
 reflection that it was no inhabitant of the other world which stood 
 before him, but an injured man, whom the slightest want of dexterity 
 on his part might lead to acquaintance with his rights, and the 
 means of asserting them to his utter destruction. Yet his ideas 
 were so much confused by the shock he had received, that his first 
 question partook of the alarm. 
 
 " In the name of God, how came you here ?" said Glossin. 
 
 " How came I here ? " repeated Bertram, surprised at the solem- 
 nity of the address. " I landed a quarter of an hour since in the 
 little harbour beneath the castle, and was employing a moment's 
 leisure in viewing these fine ruins. I trust there is no intrusion? " 
 
264 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Intrusion, sir ? No, sir," said Glossin, in some degree recover- 
 ing his breath, and then whispered a few words into his companion's 
 ear, who immediately left him and descended towards the house. 
 " Intrusion, sir ? No, sir, — you or any gentleman are welcome to 
 satisfy your curiosity." 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said Bertram. " They call this the Old Place, 
 I am informed ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; in distinction to the New Place, my house there, 
 below." 
 
 Glossin, it must be remarked, was, during the following dialogue, 
 on the one hand eager to learn what local recollections young 
 Bertram had retained of the scenes of his infancy, and, on the 
 other, compelled to be extremely cautious in his replies, lest he 
 should awaken or assist, by some name, phrase, or anecdote, the 
 slumbering train of association. He suffered, indeed, during the 
 whole scene, the agonies which he so richly deserved ; yet his 
 pride and interest, like the fortitude of a North American Indian, 
 manned him to sustain the tortures inflicted at once by the con- 
 tending stings of a guilty conscience, of hatred, of fear, and of 
 suspicion. 
 
 " I wish to ask the name, sir," said Bertram, " of the family to 
 whom this stately ruin belongs ? " 
 
 " It is my property, sir ; my name is Glossin." 
 
 " Glossin ? — Glossin ? " repeated Bertram, as if the answer were 
 somewhat different from what he expected. " I beg your pardon, 
 Mr. Glossin ; I am apt to be very absent. — May I ask if the castle 
 has been long in your family ? " 
 
 " It was built, I believe, long ago, by a family called Mac-Dinga- 
 waie," answered Glossin ; suppressing, for obvious reasons, the 
 more familiar sound of Bertram, which might have awakened the 
 recollections which he was anxious to lull to rest, and slurring with 
 an evasive answer the question concerning the endurance of his 
 own possession. 
 
 " And how do you read the half-defaced motto, sir," said Ber- 
 tram, " which is upon that scroll above the entablature with the 
 arms ? " 
 
 " I — I — I really do not exactly know," replied Glossin. 
 
 " I should be apt to make it out, Our Right makes our Might." 
 
 " I believe it is something of that kind," said Glossin. 
 
 " May I ask, sir," said the stranger, " if it is your family 
 motto?" 
 
 " N — n — no— no — not ours. That is, I believe, the motto of the 
 former people — mine is — mine is — in fact I have had some corre- 
 spondence with Mr. Cumming of the Lyon Office in Edinburgh 
 
GUY MANNERING. 265 
 
 about mine. He writes me, the Glossins anciently bore for a motto, 
 ' He who takes it, makes it.' " 
 
 " If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were mine,'' said 
 Bertram, " I would assume the old motto, which seems to me the 
 better of the two." 
 
 Glossin, whose tongue by this time clove to the roof of his mouth, 
 only answered by a nod. 
 
 " It is odd enough," said Bertram, fixing his eye upon the arms 
 and gateway, and partly addressing Glossin, partly as it were 
 thinking aloud — "it is odd the tricks which our memory plays 
 us. The remnants of an old prophecy, or song, or rhyme, of 
 some kind or other, return to my recollection on hearing that motto 
 — stay— it is a strange jingle of sounds : 
 
 ' The dark shall be light, 
 And the wrong made right, 
 When Bertram's right and Bertram's might 
 Shall meet on ' 
 
 I cannot remember the last line — on some particular height — height 
 is the rhyme, I am sure ; but I cannot hit upon the preceding 
 word." 
 
 " Confound your memory," muttered Glossin, " you remember by 
 far too much of it ! " 
 
 " There are other rhymes connected with these early recollec- 
 tions," continued the young man : " Pray, sir, is there any song 
 current in this part of the world respecting a daughter of the King 
 of the Isle of Man eloping with a Scottish knight ? " 
 
 " I am the worst person in the world to consult upon legendary 
 antiquities," answered Glossin. 
 
 " I could sing such a -ballad," said Bertram, " from one end to 
 another, when I was a boy. You must know I left Scotland, which 
 is my native country, very young, and those who brought me up 
 discouraged all my attempts to preserve recollection of my native 
 land, on account, I believe, of a boyish wish which I had to escape 
 from their charge." 
 
 " Very natural," said Glossin, but speaking as if his utmost efforts 
 were unable to unseal his lips beyond the width of a quarter of an 
 inch, so that his whole utterance was a kind of compressed mutter- 
 ing, very different from the round, bold, bullying voice with which 
 he usually spoke. Indeed his appearance and demeanour during 
 all this conversation seemed to diminish even his strength and 
 stature ; so that he appeared to wither into the shadow of himself, 
 now advancing one foot, now the other, now stooping and wriggling 
 his shoulders, now fumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat, now 
 
266 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 clasping his hands together, — in short, he was the picture of a 
 mean-spirited shuffling rascal in the very agonies of detection. To 
 these appearances Bertram was totally inattentive, being dragged 
 on as it were by the current of his own associations. Indeed, al- 
 though he addressed Glossin, he was not so much thinking of him, 
 as arguing upon the embarrassing state of his own feelings and 
 recollection. " Yes," he said, " I preserved my language among 
 the sailors, most of whom spoke English, and when I could get into 
 a corner by myself, I used to sing all that song over from beginning 
 to end — I have forgot it all now — but I remember the tune well, 
 though I cannot guess what should at present so strongly recall it 
 to my memory." 
 
 He took his flageolet from his pocket, and played a simple 
 melody. Apparently the tune awoke the corresponding associations 
 of a damsel, who, close beside a fine spring about halfway down 
 the descent, and which had once supplied the castle with water, 
 was engaged in bleaching linen. She immediately took up the 
 song: 
 
 " Are these the Links of Forth, she said, 
 Or are they the crooks of Dee, 
 Or the bonny woods of Warroch-Head 
 That I so fain would see ? " 
 
 " By heaven," said Bertram, " it is the very ballad ! I must learn 
 these words from the girl." 
 
 " Confusion ! " thought Glossin ; " if I cannot put a stop to this, 
 all will be out. O the devil take all ballads, and ballad-makers, 
 and ballad-singers ! and that d — d jade too, to set up her pipe ! 
 
 You will have time enough for this on some other occasion," 
 
 he said aloud ; " at present " — (for now he saw his emissary with 
 two or three men coming up the bank), "at present we must have 
 some more serious conversation together." 
 
 " How do you mean, sir ?" said Bertram, turning short upon him, 
 and not liking the tone which he made use of. 
 
 " Why, sir, as to that — I believe your name is Brown ? " said 
 Glossin. 
 
 " And what of that, sir ? " 
 
 Glossin looked over his shoulder to see how near his party had 
 approached ; they were coming fast on. " Vanbeest Brown ? if 
 I mistake not." 
 
 " And what of that, sir ? " said Bertram, with increasing astonish- 
 ment and displeasure. 
 
 "Why, in that case," said Glossin, 1 observing his friends-had now 
 got upon the level space close beside them — " in that case you ar« 
 
GUY MANNERING. 267 
 
 my prisoner in the king's name ! " — At the same time he stretched 
 his hand towards Bertram's collar, while two of the men who had 
 come up seized upon his arms, he shook himself, however, free of 
 their grasp by a violent effort, in which he pitched the most perti- 
 nacious down the bank, and, drawing his cutlass, stood on the 
 defensive, while those who had felt his strength recoiled from his 
 presence, and gazed at a safe distance. " Observe," he called out 
 at the same time, " that I have no purpose to resist legal authority ; 
 satisfy me that you have a magistrate's warrant, and are authorised 
 to make this arrest, and I will obey it quietly ; but let no man who 
 loves his life venture to approach me, till I am satisfied for what 
 crime, and by whose authority, I. am apprehended." 
 
 Glossin then caused one of the officers to show a warrant for the 
 apprehension of Vanbeest Brown, accused of the crime of wilfully 
 and maliciously shooting at Charles Hazlewood, younger of Hazle- 
 wood, with an intent to kill, and also of other crimes and mis- 
 demeanours, and which appointed him, having been so apprehended, 
 to be brought before the next magistrate for examination. The 
 warrant being formal, and the fact such ,as he could not deny, 
 Bertram threw down his weapon, and submitted himself to the 
 officers, who, flying on him with eagerness corresponding to their 
 former pusillanimity, were about to load him with irons, alleging 
 the strength and activity which he had displayed, as a justification 
 of this severity. But Glossin was ashamed or afraid to permit this 
 unnecessary insult, and directed the prisoner to be treated with all 
 the decency, and even respect, that was consistent with safety. 
 Afraid, however, to introduce him into his own house, where still 
 further subjects of recollection might have been suggested, and 
 anxious at the same time to cover his own proceedings by the 
 sanction of another's authority, he ordered his carriage (for he had 
 lately set up a carriage) to be got ready, and in the meantime 
 directed refreshments to be given to the prisoner and the officers, 
 who were consigned to one of the rooms in the old castle, until the 
 means of conveyance for examination before a magistrate should 
 be provided. 
 
268 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Bring in the evidence 
 
 Thou robed man of justice, take thy place, 
 
 And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity, 
 
 Bench by his side — you are of the commission, 
 
 Sit you too. King Lear. 
 
 WHILE the carriage was getting ready, Glossin had a letter to 
 compose, about which he wasted no small time. It was to his 
 neighbour, as he was fond of calling him, Sir Robert Hazlewood 
 of Hazlewood, the head of an ancient and powerful interest in the 
 county, which had, in the decadence of the Ellangowan family, 
 gradually succeeded to much of their authority and influence. The 
 present representative of the family was an elderly man, dotingly 
 fond of his own family, which was limited to an only son and 
 daughter, and stoically indifferent to the fate of all mankind 
 besides. For the rest, he was honourable in his general dealings, 
 because he was afraid to suffer the censure of the world, and just 
 from a better motive. He was presumptuously over-conceited on 
 the score of family pride and importance, a feeling considerably 
 enhanced by his late succession to the title of a Nova Scotia 
 Baronet ; and he hated the memory of the Ellangowan family, 
 though now a memory only, because a certain baron of that house 
 was traditionally reported to have caused the founder of the Hazle- 
 wood family hold his stirrup until he mounted into his saddle. In 
 his general deportment he was pompous and important, affecting a 
 species of florid elocution, which often became ridiculous from his 
 misarranging the triads and quaternions with which he loaded his 
 sentences. 
 
 To this personage Glossin was now to write in such a conciliatory 
 style as might be most acceptable to his vanity and family pride, 
 and the following was the form of his note : — 
 
 "Mr. Gilbert Glossin" (he longed to add, of Ellangowan, but 
 prudence prevailed, and he suppressed that territorial designation) 
 " Mr. Gilbert Glossin has the honour to offer his most respectful 
 compliments to Sir Robert Hazlewood, and to inform him, that he 
 has this morning been fortunate enough to secure the person who 
 wounded Mr. C. Hazlewood. As Sir Robert Hazlewood may 
 probably choose to conduct the examination of this criminal him- 
 self, Mr. G. Glossin will cause the man to be carried to the inn at 
 Kippletringan, or to Hazlewood House, as Sir Robert Hazlewood 
 may be pleased to direct : And, with Sir Robert Hazlewood's per- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 269 
 
 mission, Mr. G. Glossin will attend him at either of these places 
 with the proofs and declarations which he has been so fortunate 
 as to collect respecting this atrocious business." 
 
 Addressed, 
 
 " Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazkwood, Bart. 
 " Hazlewood-House, &c, &c. 
 "Ell"- G"- 
 Tuesday." 
 
 This note he dispatched by a servant on horseback, and having 
 given the man some time to get a-head, and desired him to ride 
 fast, he ordered two officers of justice to get into the carriage with 
 Bertram ; and he himself, mounting his horse, accompanied them 
 at a slow pace to the point where the roads to Kippletringan and 
 Hazlewood-House separated, and there awaited the return of his 
 messenger, in order that his farther route might be determined by 
 the answer he should receive from the Baronet. In about half an 
 hour his servant returned with the following answer, handsomely 
 folded, and sealed with the Hazlewood arms, having the Nova 
 Scotia badge depending from the shield : — 
 
 " Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood returns Mr. G. Glossin's 
 compliments, and thanks him for the trouble he has taken in 
 a matter affecting the safety of Sir Robert's family. Sir R. H. 
 N requests Mr. G. G. will have the goodness to bring the prisoner to 
 Hazlewood-House for examination, with the other proofs or 
 declarations which he mentions. And after the business is over, 
 in case Mr. G. G. is not otherwise engaged, Sir R. and Lady 
 Hazlewood request his company to dinner." 
 
 Addressed, 
 
 " Mr. Gilbert Glossin, &c. 
 " Hazlewood-House, 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " Soh ! " thought Mr. Glossin, " here is one finger in at least, and 
 that I will make the means of introducing my whole hand. But I 
 must first get clear of this wretched young fellow. — I think I can 
 manage Sir Robert. He is dull and pompous, and will be alike 
 disposed to listen to my suggestions upon the law of the case, and 
 to assume the credit of acting upon them as his own proper 
 motion. So I shall have the advantage of being the real magis- 
 trate, without the odium of responsibility." 
 
 As he cherished these hopes and expectations, the carriage 
 approached Hazlewood-House through a noble avenue of old oaks, 
 
270 GUY MANNERING 
 
 which shrouded the ancient abbey-resembling building so called. 
 It was a large edifice built at different periods, part having actually 
 been a priory, upon the suppression of which, in the time of Queen 
 Mary, the first of the family had obtained a gift of the house and 
 surrounding lands from the crown. It was pleasantly situated in a 
 large deer park, on the banks of the river we have before mentioned. 
 The scenery around was of a dark, solemn, and somewhat melan- 
 choly cast, according well with the architecture of the house. 
 Everything appeared to be kept in the highest possible order, and 
 announced the opulence and rank of the proprietor. 
 - As Mr. Glossin's carriage stopped at the door of the hall, Sir 
 Robert reconnoitred the new vehicle from the windows. According 
 to his aristocratic feelings, there was a degree of presumption in 
 this novus homo, this Mr. Gilbert Glossin, late writer in , pre- 
 suming to set up such an accommodation at all ; but his wrath was 
 mitigated when he observed that the mantle upon the panels only 
 bore a plain cipher of G. G. This apparent modesty was indeed 
 solely owing to the delay of Mr. Cumming of the Lyon Office, who, 
 being at that time engaged in discovering and matriculating the 
 arms of two commissaries from North America, three English- 
 Irish peers, and two great Jamaica traders, had been more slow 
 than usual in finding an escutcheon for the new Laird of Ellan- 
 gowan. But his delay told to the advantage of Glossin in the 
 opinion of the proud Baronet. 
 
 While the officers of justice detained their prisoner in a sort of 
 steward's room, Mr. Glossin was ushered into what was called the 
 great oak-parlour, a long room, panelled with well-varnished 
 wainscot, and adorned with the grim portraits of Sir Robert Hazle- 
 wood's ancestry. The visitor, who had no internal consciousness 
 of worth to balance that of meanness of birth, felt his inferiority, 
 and by the depth of his bow and the obsequiousness of his 
 demeanour, showed that the Laird of Ellangowan was sunk for the 
 time in the old and submissive habits, of the quondam retainer of 
 the law. He would have persuaded himself, indeed, that he was 
 only humouring the pride of the old Baronet, for the purpose of 
 turning it to his own advantage ; but his feelings were of a mingled 
 nature, and he felt the influence of those very prejudices which he 
 pretended to flatter. 
 
 The Baronet received his visitor with that condescending parade 
 which was meant at once to assert his own vast superiority, and to 
 show the generosity and courtesy with which he could waive it, and 
 descend to the level of ordinary conversation with ordinary men. 
 He thanked Glossin for his attention to a matter in which " young 
 Hazlewood" was so intimately concerned, and, pointing to his 
 
GUY MANNERING. s 7 i 
 
 family pictures, observed, with a gracious smile, " Indeed these 
 venerable gentlemen, Mr. Glossin, are as much obliged as I am in 
 this case, for the labour, pains, care, and trouble which you have 
 taken in their behalf; and I have no doubt, were they capable of 
 expressing themselves, would join me, sir, in thanking you for the 
 favour you have conferred upon the house of Hazlewood, by taking 
 care, and trouble, sir, and interest, in behalf of the young gentleman 
 who is to continue their name and family." 
 
 Thrice bowed Glossin, and each time more profoundly than 
 before ; once in honour of the knight who stood upright before him, 
 once in respect to the quiet personages who patiently hung upon 
 the wainscot, and a third time in deference to the young gentleman 
 who was to carry on the name and family. Roturier as he was, Sir 
 Robert was gratified by the homage which he rendered, and pro- 
 ceeded, in a tone of gracious familiarity : " And now, Mr. Glossin, 
 my exceeding good friend, you must allow me to avail myself of 
 your knowledge of law in our proceedings in this matter. I am not 
 much in the habit of acting as a justice of the peace ; it suits better 
 with other gentlemen, whose domestic and family affairs require 
 less constant superintendence, attention, and management, than 
 mine." 
 
 Of course, whatever small assistance Mr. Glossin could render 
 was entirely at Sir Robert Hazlewood's service ; but, as Sir Robert 
 Hazlewood's name stood high in the list of the faculty, the said Mr. 
 Glossin could not presume to hope it could be either necessary or 
 useful. 
 
 " Why, my good sir, you will understand me only to mean, that 
 I am something deficient in the practical knowledge of the ordinary 
 details of justice-business. I was indeed educated to the bar, and 
 might boast perhaps at one time, that I had made some progress in 
 the speculative, and abstract, and abstruse doctrines of our munici- 
 pal code ; but there is in the present day so little opportunity of a 
 man of family and fortune rising to that eminence at the bar, which 
 is attained by adventurers who are as willing to plead for John-a- 
 Nokes, as for the first noble of the land, that I was really early dis- 
 gusted with practice. The first case, indeed, which was laid on my 
 table, quite sickened me ; it respected a bargain, sir, of tallow, 
 ■between a butcher and a candlemaker ; and I found it was expected 
 that I should grease my mouth, not only with their vulgar names, 
 but with all the technical terms, and phrases, and peculiar language, 
 of their dirty arts. Upon my honour, my good sir, I have never 
 been able to bear the smell of a tallow-candle since." 
 
 Pitying, as seemed to be expected, the mean use to which the 
 Baronet's faculties had been degraded on this melancholy occasion, 
 
272 GUY MANNER1NG. 
 
 Mr. Glossin offered to officiate as clerk or assessor, or in any way 
 in which he could be most useful. " And with a view to possessing 
 you of the whole business, and in the first place, there will, I 
 believe, be no difficulty in proving the main fact, that this was the 
 person who fired the unhappy piece. Should he deny it, it can be 
 proved by Mr. Hazlewood, I presume?" 
 
 "Young Hazlewood is not at home to-day, Mr. Glossin.'' 
 
 " But we can have the oath of the servant who attended him," 
 said the ready Mr. Glossin ; " indeed I hardly think the fact will 
 be disputed. I am more apprehen sive, that, from the too favour- 
 able and indulgent manner in which I have understood that Mr. 
 Hazlewood has been pleased to represent the business, the assault 
 may be considered as accidental, and the injury as unintentional, so 
 that the fellow may be immediately set at liberty, to do more mis- 
 chief." 
 
 " I have not the honour to know the gentleman who now holds 
 the office of king's advocate," replied Sir Robert, gravely ; " but I 
 presume, sir — nay, I am confident, that he will consider the mere 
 fact of having wounded young Hazlewood of Hazlewood, even by 
 inadvertency, to take the matter in its mildest and gentlest, and in 
 its most favourable and improbable light, as a crime which will be 
 too easily atoned by^imprisonment, and as more deserving of depor- 
 tation." 
 
 " Indeed, Sir Robert," said his assenting brother in justice, "I am 
 entirely of your opinion; but, I don't know how it is, I have 
 observed the Edinburgh gentlemen of the bar, and even the officers 
 of the crown, pique themselves upon an indifferent administration 
 of justice, without respect to rank and family ; and I should 
 fear" 
 
 "How, sir, without respect to rank and family ? Will you tell me 
 that doctrine can be held by men of birth and legal education ? 
 No, sir ; if a trifle stolen in the street is termed mere pickery, but 
 is elevated into sacrilege if the crime be committed in a church, so, 
 according to the just gradations of society, the guilt of an injury is 
 enhanced by the rank of the person to whom it is offered, done, or 
 perpetrated, sir." 
 
 Glossin bowed low to this declaration ex cathedra, but observed, 
 that in case of the very worst, and of such unnatural doctrines 
 being actually held as he had already hinted, " the law had another 
 hold on Mr. Vanbeest Brown." 
 
 " Vanbeest Brown ! is that the fellow's name ? Good God ! that 
 young Hazlewood of Hazlewood should have had his life endan- 
 gered, the clavicle of his right shoulder considerably lacerated and 
 dislodged, several large drops or slugs deposited in the acromion 
 
GUY MANNERING. 073 
 
 process, as the account of the family surgeon expressly bears, and 
 all by an obscure wretch named Vanbeest Brown ! " 
 
 " Why, really, Sir Robert, it is a thing which one can hardly bear 
 to think of ; but, begging ten thousand pardons for resuming what 
 I was about to say, a person of the same name is, as appears 
 from these papers" (producing Dirk Hatteraick's pocket-book), 
 " mate to the smuggling vessel who offered such violence at 
 Woodbourne, and I have no doubt that this is the same indi- 
 vidual ; which, however, your acute discrimination will easily be 
 able to ascertain." 
 
 "The same, my good sir, he must assuredly be — it would be injus- 
 tice even to the meanest of the people, to suppose there could be 
 found among them two persons doomed to bear a name so shock- 
 ing to one's ears as this of Vanbeest Brown." 
 
 " True, Sir Robert ; most unquestionably ; there cannot be a 
 shadow of doubt of it. But you see farther, that this circumstance 
 accounts for the man's desperate conduct. You, Sir Robert, will 
 discover the motive for his crime — you, I say, will discover it with- 
 out difficulty, on your giving your mind to the examination ; for my 
 part, I cannot help suspecting the moving spring to have been 
 revenge for the gallantry with which Mr. Hazlewood, with all the 
 spirit of his renowned forefathers, defended the house at Wood- 
 bourne against this villain and his lawless companions." 
 
 " I will inquire into it, my good sir," said the learned Baronet. 
 " Yet even now I venture to conjecture that I shall adopt the solu- 
 tion or explanation of this riddle, enigma, or mystery, which you 
 have in some degree thus started. Yes ! revenge it must be — and, 
 good Heaven ! entertained by and against whom? — entertained, 
 fostered, cherished, against young Hazlewood of Hazlewood, and in 
 part carried into effect, executed, and implemented, by the hand of 
 Vanbeest Brown ! These are dreadful days indeed, my worthy 
 neighbour" (this epithet indicated a rapid advance in the Baronet's 
 good graces) — " days when the bulwarks of society are shaken to 
 their mighty base, and that rank, which forms, as it were, its highest 
 grace and ornament, is mingled and confused with the viler parts 
 of the architecture. O my good Mr. Gilbert Glossin, in my time, 
 sir, the use of swords and pistols, and such honourable arms, was 
 reserved by the nobility and gentry to themselves, and the disputes 
 of the vulgar were decided by the weapons which nature had given 
 them, or by cudgels, cut, broken, or hewed out of the next wood. 
 But now, sir, the clouted shoe of the peasant galls the kibe of the 
 courtier. The lower ranks have their quarrels, sir, and their points 
 of honour, and their revenges, which they must bring, forsooth, to 
 fatal arbitrement. But well, well ! it will last my time — let us have 
 
274 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 in this fellow, this Vanbeest Brown, and make an end of him at 
 least for the present." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 'Twas be 
 
 Gave heat unto the injury, which returned, 
 Like a petard ill-lighted, into the bosom 
 Of him gave fire to't. Yet I hope his hurt 
 Is not so dangerous but he may recover. 
 
 Fair Maid of the Inn. 
 
 THE prisoner was now presented before the two worshipful 
 magistrates. Glossin, partly from some compunctious visitings, 
 and partly out of his cautious resolution to suffer Sir Robert Hazle- 
 wood to be the ostensible manager of the whole examination, looked 
 down upon the table, and busied himself with reading and arranging 
 the papers respecting the business, only now and then throwing in 
 a skilful catchword as prompter, when he saw the principal, and 
 apparently most active magistrate, stand in need of a hint. As for 
 Sir Robert Hazlewood, he assumed, on his part, a happy mixture 
 of the austerity of the justice, combined with the display of personal 
 dignity appertaining to the Baronet of ancient family. 
 
 " There, constables, let him stand there at the bottom of the table. 
 — Be so good as look me in the face, sir, and raise your voice as 
 you answer the questions which I am going to put to you." 
 
 " May I beg, in the first place, to know, sir, who it is that takes 
 the trouble to interrogate me ? " said the prisoner ; " for the honest 
 gentlemen who have brought me here have not been pleased to 
 furnish any information upon that point." 
 
 " And pray, sir," answered Sir Robert, " what has my name and 
 quality to do with the questions I am about to ask you ? " 
 
 " Nothing, perhaps, sir," replied Bertram ; " but it may consider- 
 ably influence my disposition to answer them." 
 
 " Why, then, sir, you will please to be informed that you are in 
 presence of Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood, and another jus- 
 tice of peace for this county — that's all." 
 
 As this intimation produced a less stunning effect upon the pri- 
 soner than he had anticipated, Sir Robert proceeded in his investi- 
 gation with an increasing dislike to the object of it, 
 
 " Is your name Vanbeest Brown, sir ?" 
 
 " It is," answered the prisoner. 
 
 " So far well j — and how are we to design you farther, sir?" de- 
 manded the Justice. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 275 
 
 "Captain in his Majesty's regiment of Horse," answered 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 The Baronet's ears received this intimation with astonishment ; 
 but he was refreshed in courage by an incredulous look from 
 Glossin, and by hearing him gently utter a sort of interjectional 
 whistle, in a note of surprise and contempt. " I believe, my friend," 
 said Sir Robert, " we shall find for you, before we part, a more 
 humble title." 
 
 "If you do, sir," replied his prisoner, " I shall willingly submit to 
 any punishment which such an imposture shall be thought to 
 deserve." 
 
 "Well, sir, we shall see," continued Sir Robert. " Do you know 
 young Hazlewood of Hazlewood ? " 
 
 " I never saw the gentleman who I am informed bears that name 
 excepting once, and I regret that it was under very unpleasant cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 " You mean to acknowledge, then," said the Baronet, " that you 
 inflicted upon young Hazlewood of Hazlewood that wound which 
 endangered his life, considerably lacerated the clavicle of his right 
 shoulder, and deposited, as the family surgeon declares, several 
 large drops or slugs in the acromion process ? " 
 
 "Why, sir," replied Bertram, "I can only say I am equally igno- 
 rant of and sorry for the extent Of the damage which the young gen- 
 tleman has sustained. I met him in a narrow path, walking with 
 two ladies and a servant, and before I could either pass them or 
 address them, this young Hazlewood took his gun from his servant, 
 presented it against my body, and commanded me in the most 
 haughty tone to stand back. I was neither inclined to submit to his 
 authority, nor to leave him in possession of the means to injure me, 
 which he seemed disposed to use with such rashness. I therefore 
 closed with him for the purpose of disarming him ; and just as I 
 had nearly effected my purpose, the piece went off accidentally, 
 and, to my regret then and since, inflicted upon the young gen- 
 tleman a severer chastisement than I desired, though I am glad 
 to understand it is like to prove no more than his unprovoked 
 folly deserved." 
 
 " And so, sir," said the Baronet, every feature swoln with offended 
 dignity, — " You, sir, admit, sir, that it was your purpose, sir, and 
 your intention, sir, and the real jet and object of your assault, sir, 
 to disarm young Hazlewood of Hazlewood of his gun, sir, or his 
 fowling-piece, or his fuzee, or whatever you please to call it, sir, 
 upon the king's highway, sir ? I think this will do, my worthy 
 neighbour ! I think he should stand committed !" 
 
 " You are by far the best judge, Sir Robert," said Glossin, in his 
 
 s 2 
 
aj6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 most insinuating tone ; " but if I might presume to hint, there was 
 something about these smugglers." 
 
 "Very true, good sir. — And besides, sir, you Vanbeest Brown, 
 who call yourself a captain in his Majesty's service, are no better 
 or worse than a rascally mate of a smuggler." 
 
 "Really, sir," said Bertram, "you are an old gentlemen, and 
 acting under some strange delusion, otherwise I should be very 
 angry with you." 
 
 " Old gentleman, sir ! strange delusion, sir ! " said Sir Robert, 
 
 colouring with indignation. " I protest and declare Why, sir, 
 
 have you any papers or letters that can establish your pretended 
 rank, and estate, and commission ? " 
 
 " None at present, sir," answered Bertram ; " but in the return of 
 a post or two " 
 
 " And how do you, sir," continued the Baronet, " if you are a 
 captain in his Majesty's service, how do you chance to be travelling 
 in Scotland without letters of introduction, credentials, baggage, or 
 any thing belonging to your pretended rank, estate, and condition, 
 as I said before ? " 
 
 " Sir," replied the prisoner, " I had the misfortune to be robbed 
 of my clothes and baggage." 
 
 " Oho ! then you are the gentleman who took a post-chaise from 
 
 to Kippletringan, gave the boy the slip on the road, and sent 
 
 two of your accomplices to beat the boy and bring away the 
 baggage ? " 
 
 " I was, sir, in a carriage as you describe, was obliged to alight 
 in the snow, and lost my way endeavouring to find the road to Kip- 
 pletringan. The landlady of the inn will inform you that on my 
 arrival there the next day, my first inquiries were after the boy." 
 
 "Then give me leave to ask where you spent the night? — 
 not in the snow, I presume ? you do not suppose that will pass, or 
 be taken, credited, and received ? " 
 
 " I beg leave," said Bertram, his recollection turning to the gipsy 
 female, and to the promise he had given her, " I beg leave to de- 
 cline answering that question." 
 
 '' I thoughtas much," said Sir Robert. — "Were you not during that 
 night in the ruins of Derncleugh ? — in the ruins of Derncleugh, sir ?" 
 
 " I have told you that I do not intend answering that question," 
 replied Bertram. 
 
 " Well, sir, then you will stand committed, sir," said Sir Robert, 
 " and be sent to prison, sir, that's all, sir. — Have the goodness to 
 look at these papers : are you the Vanbeest Brown who is there 
 mentioned ? " 
 
 It must be remarked that Glossin had shuffled among the papers 
 
GUY MANNERING. 277 
 
 some writings which really did belong to Bertram, and which had 
 been found by the officers in the old vault where his portmanteau 
 was ransacked. 
 
 " Some of these papers," said Bertram, looking over them, " are 
 mine, and were in my portfolio when it was stolen from the post- 
 chaise. They are memoranda of little value, and, I see, have been 
 carefully selected as affording no evidence of my rank or character, 
 which many of the other papers would have established fully. 
 They are mingled with ship-accounts and other papers, belonging 
 apparently to a person of the same name." 
 
 " And wilt thou attempt to persuade me, friend," demanded Sir 
 Robert, " that there are two persons in this country, at the same 
 time, of thy very uncommon and awkwardly sounding name ? " 
 
 " I really do not see, sir, as there is an old Hazlewood and a 
 young Hazlewood, why there should not be an old and a young 
 Vanbeest Brown. And, to speak seriously, I was educated in Hol- 
 land, and I know that this name, however uncouth it may sound in 
 British ears" 
 
 Glossin, conscious that the prisoner was now about to enter upon 
 dangerous ground, interfered, though the interruption was unneces- 
 sary, for the purpose of diverting the attention of Sir Robert Hazle- 
 wood, who was speechless and motionless with indignation at the 
 presumptuous comparison implied in Bertram's last speech. In 
 fact, the veins of his throat and of his temples swelled almost to 
 bursting, and he sat with the indignant and disconcerted air of one 
 who has received a mortal insult from a quarter to which he holds 
 it unmeet and indecorous to make any reply. While with a bent 
 brow and an angry eye he was drawing in his breath slowly and ma- 
 jestically, and puffing it forth again with deep and solemn exertion, 
 Glossin stepped in to his assistance. " I should think now, Sir 
 Robert, with great submission, that this matter may be closed. One 
 of the constables, besides the pregnant proof already produced, 
 offers to make oath, that the sword of which the prisoner was this 
 morning deprived (while using it, by the way, in resistance to a 
 legal warrant) was a cutlass taken from him in a fray between the 
 officers and smugglers, just previous to their attack upon Wood- 
 bourne. And yet," he added, " I would not have you form any 
 rash construction upon that subject ; perhaps the young man can 
 explain how he came by that weapon." 
 
 " That question, sir," said Bertram, " I shall also leave un- 
 answered." 
 
 " There is yet another circumstance to be inquired into, always 
 under Sir Robert's leave," insinuated Glossin. " This prisoner put 
 into the hands of Mrs. Mac-Candlish of Kippletringan, a parcel 
 
278 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 containing a variety of gold coins and valuable articles of different 
 kinds. Perhaps, Sir Robert, you might think it right to ask, how 
 he came by property of a description which seldom occurs." 
 
 " You, sir, Mr. Vanbeest Brown, sir, you hear the question, sir, 
 which the gentleman asks you ? '"' 
 
 " I have particular reasons for declining to answer that question," 
 answered Bertram. 
 
 " Then I am afraid, sir," said Glossin, who had brought matters 
 to the point he desired to reach, " our duty must lay us under the 
 necessity to sign a warrant of committal." 
 
 " As you please, sir," answered Bertram : " take care, however, 
 what you do. Observe, that I inform you that I am a captain in his 
 
 Majesty's regiment, and that I am just returned from India, 
 
 and therefore cannot possibly be connected with any of those con- 
 traband traders you talk of ; that my Lieutenant-Colonel is now at 
 Nottingham, the Major, with the officers of my corps, at Kingston- 
 upon-Thames. I offer before you both to submit to any degree of 
 ignominy, if, within the return of the Kingston and Nottingham 
 posts, I am not able to establish these points. Or, you may write 
 to the agent for the regiment, if you please, and " 
 
 " This is all very well, sir," said Glossin, beginning to fear lest 
 the firm expostulation of Bertram should make some impression on 
 Sir Robert, who would almost have died of shame at committing 
 such a solecism as sending a captain of horse to jail — " This is all 
 very well, sir ; but is there no person nearer whom you could 
 refer to ? " 
 
 " There are only two persons in this country who know anything 
 of me," replied the prisoner. " One is a plain Liddesdale sheep- 
 farmer, called Dinmont of Charlies-hope ; but he knows nothing 
 more of me than what I told him, and what I now tell you." 
 
 " Why, this is well enough, Sir Robert ! " said Glossin. " I sup- 
 pose he would bring forward this thick-skulled fellow to give his 
 oath of credulity, Sir Robert, ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " And what is your other witness, friend ? " said the Baronet. 
 
 " A gentleman whom I have some reluctance to mention, because 
 of certain private reasons ; but under whose command I served 
 some time in India, and who is too much a man of honour to refuse 
 his testimony to my character as a soldier and gentleman." 
 
 " And who is this doughty witness, pray, sir ? " said Sir Robert, 
 — " some half-pay quarter-master or sergeant, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Colonel Guy Mannering, late of the regiment, in which, as 
 
 I told you, I have a troop." 
 
 " Colonel Guy Mannering ! " thought Glossin, — ,( who the devi] 
 could have guessed this ? " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 279 
 
 " Colonel Guy Mannering ! " echoed the Baronet, considerably 
 shaken in his opinion. — "My good sir," — apart to Glossin, "the 
 young man with a dreadfully plebeian name, and a good deal of 
 modest assurance, has nevertheless something of the tone, and 
 manners, and feeling of a gentleman, of one at least who has lived 
 in good society ; — they do give commissions very loosely, and care- 
 lessly, and inaccurately, in India ; — I think we had better pause till 
 Colonel Mannering shall return; he is now, I believe, at Edinburgh." 
 
 " You are in every respect the best judge, Sir Robert," answered 
 Glossin, " in every possible respect. I would only submit to you, 
 that we are certainly hardly entitled to dismiss this man upon an 
 assertion which cannot be satisfied by proof, and that we shall 
 incur a heavy responsibility by detaining him in private custody, 
 without committing him to a public jail. Undoubtedly, however, 
 you are the best judge, Sir Robert ; — and I would only say, for my 
 own part, that I very lately incurred severe censure by detaining a 
 person in a place which I thought perfectly secure, and under the 
 custody of the proper officers. The man made his escape, and I 
 have no doubt my own character for attention and circumspection 
 as a magistrate has in some degree suffered — I only hint this — I 
 will join in any step you, Sir Robert, think most advisable." But 
 Mr. Glossin was well aware that such a hint was of power suffi- 
 cient to decide the motions of his self-important, but not self-rely- 
 ing colleague. So that Sir Robert Hazlewood summed up the 
 business in the following speech, which proceeded partly upon the 
 supposition of the prisoner being really a gentleman, and partly 
 upon the opposite belief that he was a villain and an assassin. 
 
 " Sir, Mr. Vanbeest Brown — I would call you Captain Brown if 
 there was the least reason, or cause, or grounds to suppose that 
 you are a captain, or had a troop in the very respectable corps you 
 mention, or indeed in any other corps in his Majesty's service, as to 
 which circumstance I beg to be understood to give no positive, 
 settled, or unalterable judgment, declaration or opinion. I say, there- 
 fore, sir, Mr. Brown, we have determined, considering the un- 
 pleasant predicament in which you now stand, having been robbed, 
 as you say, an assertion as to which I suspend my opinion, and 
 being possessed of much and valuable treasure, and of a brass- 
 handled cutlass besides, as to your obtaining which you will favour 
 us with no explanation — I say, sir, we have determined and re- 
 solved, and made up our minds, to commit you to jail, or rather to 
 assign you an apartment therein, in order that you may be forth- 
 coming upon Colonel Mannering's return from Edinburgh." 
 
 " With humble submission, Sir Robert," said Glossin, " may I 
 inquire if it is your purpose to send this young gentleman to the 
 
28o GUY MANNERING. 
 
 county jail ? — for if that were not your settled intention, I would 
 take the liberty to hint, that there would be less hardship in sending 
 him to the Bridewell at Pbrtanferry, where he can be secured with- 
 out public exposure ; a circumstance which, on the mere chance of 
 his story being really true, is much to be avoided." 
 
 " Why, there is a guard of soldiers at Portanferry, to be sure, 
 for protection of the goods in the Custom-house ; and upon the 
 whole, considering every thing, and that the place is comfortable 
 for such a place, I say, all things considered, we will commit this 
 person, I would rather say authorize him to be detained, in the 
 workhouse at Portanferry." 
 
 The warrant was made out accordingly, and Bertram was in- 
 formed he was next morning to be removed to his place of confine- 
 ment, as Sir Robert had determined he should not be taken there 
 under cloud of night, for fear of rescue. He was, during the in- 
 terval, to be detained at Hazlewood-House. 
 
 " It cannot be so hard as my imprisonment by the Looties in 
 India," he thought ; " nor can it last so long. But the deuce take 
 the old formal dunderhead, and his more sly associate, who speaks 
 always under his breath, — they cannot understand a plain man's 
 story when it is told them." 
 
 In the meanwhile Glossin took leave of the Baronet, with a thou- 
 sand respectful bows and cringing apologies for not accepting his 
 invitation to dinner, and venturing to hope he might be pardoned 
 in paying his respects to him, Lady Hazlewood, and young Mr. 
 Hazlewood, on some future occasion. 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said the Baronet, very graciously. " I hope our 
 family was never at anytime deficient in civility to our neighbours; 
 and when I ride that way, good Mr. Glossin, I will convince you of 
 this by calling at your house as familiarly as is consistent — that is, 
 as can be hoped or expected." 
 
 " And now," said Glossin to himself, " to find Dirk Hatteraick 
 and his people, — to get the guard sent off from the Custom-house, 
 — and then for the grand cast of the dice. Everything must de- 
 pend upon speed. How lucky that Mannering has betaken himself 
 to Edinburgh ! His knowledge of this young fellow is a most 
 perilous addition to my dangers," — here he suffered his horse to 
 slacken his pace. " What if I should try to compound with the 
 heir ? — It's likely he might be brought to pay a round sum for 
 restitution, and I could give up Hatteraick— But no, no, no ! there 
 were too many eyes on me, Hatteraick himself, and the gipsy 
 sailor, and that old hag, — No, no ! I must stick to my original 
 plan." And with that he struck his spurs against his horse's flanks, 
 and rode forward at a hard trot to put his machines in motion. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 281 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 A prison is a house of care, 
 A place where none can thrive, 
 A touchstone true to try a friend, 
 A grave for one alive. 
 Sometimes a place of right, 
 Sometimes a place of wrong, 
 Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves, 
 And honest men among. 
 
 Inscription on Edinburgh Tolbooth. 
 
 EARLY on the following morning, the carriage which had brought 
 Bertram to Hazlewood-House, was, with his two silent and surly 
 attendants, appointed to convey him to his place of confinement at 
 Portanferry. This building adjoined to the Custom-house estab- 
 lished at that little seaport, and both were situated so close to the 
 sea-beach, that it was necessary to defend the back part with a large 
 and strong rampart or bulwark of huge stones, disposed in a slope 
 towards the surf, which often reached and broke upon them. The 
 front was surrounded by a high wall, enclosing a small court-yard, 
 within which the miserable inmates of the mansion were occasion- 
 ally permitted to take exercise and air. The prison was used as a 
 House of Correction, and sometimes as a chapel of ease to the 
 county jail, which was old, and far from being conveniently situated 
 with reference to the Kippletringan district of the county. Mac- 
 Guffog, the officer by whom Bertram had at first been apprehended, 
 and who was now in attendance upon him, was keeper of this 
 palace of little-ease. He caused the carriage to be drawn close up 
 to the outer gate, and got out himself to summon the warders. The 
 noise of his rap alarmed some twenty or thirty ragged boys, who 
 left off sailing their mimic sloops and frigates in the little pools of 
 salt water left by the receding tide, and hastily crowded round the 
 vehicle to see what luckless being was to be delivered to the prison- 
 house out of " Glossin's braw new carriage." The door of the court- 
 yard, after the heavy clanking of many chains and bars, was opened 
 by Mrs. Mac-Guffog, an awful spectacle, being a woman for strength 
 and resolution capable of maintaining order among her riotous 
 inmates, and of administering the discipline of the house, as it was 
 called, during the absence of her husband, or when he chanced to 
 have taken an over-dose of the creature. The growling voice of 
 this Amazon, which rivalled in harshness the crashing music of her 
 own bolts and bars, soon dispersed in every direction the little 
 varlets who had thronged around her threshold, and she next ad- 
 dressed her amiable help-mate • — 
 
28« GUV MANNERING. 
 
 " Be sharp, man, and get out the swell, canst thou not ? " 
 
 " Hold your tongue and be d — d, you ! " answered her 
 
 loving husband, with two additional epithets of great energy, but 
 which we beg to be excused 'from repeating. Then, addressing 
 Bertram, — 
 
 " Come, will you get out, my handy lad, or must we lend you a 
 lift ? " 
 
 Bertram came out of the carriage, and, collared by the constable 
 as he put his foot on the ground, was dragged, though he offered 
 no resistance, across the threshold, amid the continued shouts of 
 the little sans culottes, who looked on at such distance as their 
 fear of Mrs. Mac-Guffog permitted. The instant his foot had 
 crossed the fatal porch, the portress again dropped her chains, drew 
 her bolts, and turning with both hands an immense key, took it 
 from the lock, and thrust into a huge side-pocket of red cloth. 
 
 Bertram was now in the small court already mentioned. Two 
 or three prisoners were sauntering along the pavement, and deriving 
 as it were a feeling of refreshment from the momentary glimpse 
 with which the opening door had extended their prospect to the 
 other side of a dirty street. Nor can this be thought surprising, 
 when.it is considered, that, unless on such occasions, their view 
 was confined to the grated front of their prison, the high and sable 
 walls of the court-yard, the heaven above them, and the pavement 
 beneath their feet ; a sameness of landscape, which, to use the 
 poet's expression, " lay like a load on the wearied eye," and had 
 fostered in some a callous and dull misanthropy, in others that 
 sickness of the heart which induces him who is immured already 
 in a living grave, to wish for a sepulchre yet more calm and 
 sequestered. 
 
 Mac-Guffog, when they entered the court-yard, suffered Bertram 
 to pause for a minute, and look upon his companions in affliction. 
 When he had cast his eye around, on faces on which guilt, and 
 despondence, and low excess, had fixed their stigma ; upon the spend- 
 thrift, and the swindler, and the thief, the bankrupt debtor, the 
 " moping idiot, and the madman gay," whom a paltry spirit of eco- 
 nomy congregated to share this dismal habitation, he felt his heart 
 recoil with inexpressible loathing from enduring the contamination 
 of their society even for a moment. 
 
 " I hope, sir," he said to the keeper, " you intend to assign me a 
 place of confinement apart ? " 
 
 " And what should I be the better of that ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, I can but be detained here a day or two, and it would 
 be very disagreeable to me to mix in the sort of company this place 
 affords." 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 283 
 
 " And what do I care for that ? * 
 
 " Why, then, sir, to speak to your feelings," said Bertram, " I 
 shall be willing to make you a handsome compliment for this 
 indulgence." 
 
 " Ay, but when, Captain ? when and how ? that's the question, or 
 rather the twa questions," said the jailor. 
 
 " When I am delivered, and get my remittances from England," 
 answered the prisoner. 
 
 Mac-Guffog shook his head incredulously. 
 
 " Why, friend, you do not pretend to believe that I am really a 
 malefactor ? " said Bertram. 
 
 " Why, I no ken," said the fellow ; " but if you are on the account, 
 ye're nae sharp ane, that's the day-light o't." 
 
 " And why do you say I am no sharp one ? " 
 
 " Why, wha but a crackbrained greenhorn wad hae let them keep 
 up the siller that ye left at the Gordon- Arms ? " said the constable. 
 " Deil fetch me, but I wad have had it out o' their wames ! Ye had 
 nae right to be strippit o' your money and sent to jail without a 
 mark to pay your fees ; they might have keepit the rest o' the 
 articles for evidence. But why, for a blind bottle-head, did not ye 
 ask the guineas ? and I kept winking and nodding a' the time, and 
 the donnert deevil wad never ance look my way ! " 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Bertram, " if I have a title to have that pro- 
 perty delivered up to me, I shall apply for it ; and there is a good 
 deal more than enough to pay any demand you can set up." 
 
 " I dinna ken a bit about that," said Mac-Guffog ; " ye may hst 
 here lang eneugh. And then the gieing credit maun be considered 
 in the fees. But, however, as ye do seem to be a chap by common, 
 though my wife says I lose by my good-nature, if ye gie me an 
 order for my fees upon that money — I daresay Glossin will make it 
 forthcoming — I ken something about an escape from Ellangowan 
 — ay, ay, he'll be glad to carry me through, and be neighbour-like." 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Bertram, " if I am not furnished in a day 
 or two otherwise, you shall have such an order." 
 
 " Weel, weel, then ye shall be put up like a prince," said Mac- 
 Guffog. "But mark ye me, friend, that we may have nae colly- 
 shangie afterhend, these are the fees that I always charge a swell 
 that must have his lib-ken to himsell — Thirty shillings a-week for 
 lodgings, and a guinea for garnish ; half-a-guinea a-week for a single 
 bed, — and I dinna get the whole of it, for I must gie half-a-crown 
 out of it to Donald Laider that's in for sheep-stealing, that should 
 sleep with you by rule, and he'll expect clean strae, and maybe some 
 whisky beside. So I make little upon that." 
 
 " Well, sir, go on." 
 
284 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Then for meat and liquor, ye may have the best, and I never 
 charge abune twenty per cent, ower tavern price for pleasing a gen- 
 tleman that way — and that's little eneugh for sending in and sending 
 out, and wearing the lassie's shoon out. And then if ye're dowie, 
 I will sit wi' you a gliff in the evening mysell, man, and help ye out 
 wi' your bottle ; — I have drank mony a glass wi' Glossin, man, that 
 did you up, though he's a justice now. And then I'se warrant ye'll 
 be for fire thir cauld nights, or if ye want candle, that's an expen- 
 sive article, for it's against the rules. And now I've tell'd ye the 
 head articles of the charge, and I dinna think there's muckle 
 mair, though there will aye be some odd expenses ower and 
 abune." 
 
 " Well, sir, I must trust to your conscience, if ever you happened 
 to hear of such a thing — I cannot.help myself." 
 
 " Na, na, sir," answered the cautious jailor, " I'll no permit you 
 to be saying that — I'm forcing naething upon ye ; — an ye dinna 
 like the price, ye needna take the article — I force no man ; I was 
 only explaining what civility was : but if ye like to take the com- 
 mon run of the house, it's a' ane to me — I'll be saved trouble, 
 that's a'." 
 
 " Nay, my friend, I have, as I suppose you may easily guess, no 
 inclination to dispute your terms upon such a penalty," answered 
 Bertram. " Come, show me where I am to be, for I would fain be 
 alone for a little while." 
 
 " Ay, ay, come along then, Captain," said the fellow, with a con- 
 tortion of visage which he intended to be a smile : " and I'll tell you 
 now, — to show you that 1 have a conscience, as ye ca't, d— n me if 
 I charge ye abune sixpence a-day for the freedom o' the court, and 
 ye may walk in't very near three hours a-day, and play at pitch-and- 
 toss, and handba', and what not." 
 
 With this gracious promise, he ushered Bertram into the house, 
 and showed him up a steep and narrow stone staircase, at the top 
 of which was a strong door, clenched with iron and studded with 
 nails. Beyond this door was a narrow passage or gallery, having 
 three cells on each side, wretched vaults, with iron bed-frames and 
 straw mattresses. But at the farther end was a small apartment, of 
 rather a more decent appearance, that is, having less the air of a 
 place of confinement, since, unless for the large lock and chain 
 upon the door, and the crossed and ponderous stanchions upon the 
 window, it rather resembled the " worst inn's worst room." It was 
 designed as a sort of infirmary for prisoners whose state of health 
 required some indulgence ; and, in fact, Donald Laider, Bertram's 
 destined chum, had been just dragged out of one of the two beds 
 which it contained, to try whether clean straw and whisky might 
 
GUY MANNERING. 285 
 
 not have a better chance to cure his intermitting fever. This pro- 
 cess of ejection had been carried into force by Mrs. Mac-Guffog 
 while her husband parleyed with Bertram- in the court-yard, that 
 good lady having a distinct presentiment of the manner in which 
 the treaty must necessarily terminate. Apparently the expulsion 
 had not taken place without some application of the strong hand, 
 for one of the bed-posts of a sort of tent-bed was broken down, so 
 that the tester and curtains hung forward into the middle of the 
 narrow chamber, like the banner of a chieftain, half-sinking, amid 
 the confusion of a combat. 
 
 " Never mind that being out o' sorts, Captain," said Mrs. Mac- 
 Guffog, who now followed them into the room ; then turning her 
 back to the prisoner, with as much delicacy as the action admitted, 
 she whipped from her knee her ferret garter, and applied it to 
 splicing and fastening the broken bed-post — then used more pins 
 than her apparel could well spare to fasten up the bed-curtains in 
 festoons — then shook the bed-clothes into something like form — 
 then flung over all a tattered patch-work quilt, and pronounced 
 that things were now "something purpose-like." "And there's 
 your bed, Captain," pointing to a massy four-posted hulk, which, 
 owing to the inequality of the floor, that had sunk considerably (the 
 house, though new, having been built by contract), stood on three 
 legs, and held the fourth aloft as if pawing the air, and in the atti- 
 tude of advancing like an elephant passant upon the panel of a 
 coach — " There's your bed and the blankets ; but if ye want sheets, 
 or bowster, or pillow, or ony sort o' napery for the table, or for 
 your hands, ye'll hae to speak to me about it, for that's out o' 
 the gudeman's line" (Mac-Guffog had by this time left the room, 
 to avoid, probably, any appeal which might be made to him 
 upon this new exaction), "and he never engages for onything like 
 that." 
 
 " In God's name," said Bertram, "let me have what is decent, 
 and make any charge you please." 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, that's sune settled ; we'll no excise you neither, 
 though we live sae near the Custom-house. And I maun see to 
 get you some fire and some dinner too, I'se warrant ; but your 
 dinner will be but a puir ane the day, no expecting company that 
 would be nice and fashious." — So saying, and in all haste, Mrs. 
 Mac-Guffog fetched a scuttle of live coals, and having replenished 
 " the rusty grate, unconscious of a fire " for months before, she pro- 
 ceeded with unwashed hands to arrange the stipulated bed-linen 
 (alas, how different from Ailie Dinmont's !) and, muttering to her- 
 self as she discharged her task, seemed, in inveterate spleen of 
 temper, to grudge even those accommodations for which she was 
 
(86 aCV MANNERINO 
 
 to receive payment. At length, however, she departed, grumbling 
 between her teeth, that " she wad rather lock up a haill ward than 
 be fiking about thae niff-naffy gentles that gae sae muckle fash wi' 
 their fancies." 
 
 When she was gone, Bertram found himself reduced to the 
 alternative of pacing his little apartment for exercise, or gazing out 
 upon the sea in such proportions as could be seen from the narrow 
 panes of his window, obscured by dirt and by close iron-bars, or 
 reading over the records of brutal wit and blackguardism which 
 despair had scrawled upon the half-whitened walls. The sounds 
 were as uncomfortable as the objects of sight ; the sullen dash of 
 the tide, which was now retreating, and the occasional opening and 
 shutting of a door, with all its accompaniments of jarring bolts and 
 creaking hinges, mingling occasionally with the dull monotony of 
 the retiring ocean. Sometimes, too, he could hear the hoarse 
 growl of the keeper, or the shriller strain of his helpmate, almost 
 always in the tone of discontent, anger, or insolence. At other 
 times the large mastiff, chained in the court-yard, answered with 
 furious bark the insults of the idle loiterers who made a sport of 
 incensing him. 
 
 At length the tedium of this weary space was broken by the 
 entrance of a dirty-looking serving wench, who made some pre- 
 parations for dinner by laying a half-dirty cloth upon a whole-dirty 
 deal table. A knife and fork, which had not been worn out by 
 overcleaning, flanked a cracked delf plate ; a nearly empty mustard- 
 pot, placed on one side of the table, balanced a saltcellar, containing 
 an article of a greyish, or rather a blackish mixture, upon the other, 
 both of stone-ware, and bearing too obvious marks of recent service. 
 Shortly after, the same Hebe brought up a plate of beef-collops, 
 done in the frying-pan, with a huge allowance of grease floating in 
 an ocean of lukewarm water ; and having added a coarse loaf to 
 these savoury viands, she requested to know what liquors the 
 gentleman chose to order. The appearance of this fare was not 
 very inviting ; but Bertram endeavoured to mend his commons by 
 ordering wine, which he found tolerably good, and, with the 
 assistance of some indifferent cheese, made his dinner chiefly off 
 the brown loaf. When his meal was over, the girl presented her 
 master's compliments, and, if agreeable to the gentleman, he would 
 help him to spend the evening. Bertram desired to be excused, 
 and begged, instead of this gracious society, that he might be fur- 
 nished with paper, pen, ink and candles. The light appeared in 
 the shape of one long broken tallow-candle, inclining over a tin 
 candlestick coated with grease ; as for the writing materials, the 
 prisoner was informed that he might have them the next day if he 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 287 
 
 chose to send out to buy them, Bertram next desired the maid to 
 procure him a book, and enforced his request with a shilling ; in 
 consequence of which, after long absence, she re-appeared with 
 two odd volumes of the Newgate Calendar, which she had borrowed 
 from Sam Silverquill, an idle apprentice, who was imprisoned 
 under a charge of forgery. Having laid the books on the table, 
 she retired, and left Bertram to studies which were not ill adapted 
 to his present melancholy situation. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV, 
 
 But if thou shouldst be dragg"d in scorn 
 
 To yonder ignominious tree, 
 Thou shalt not want one faithful friend 
 
 To share the cruel fate's decrees 
 
 Shenstone. 
 
 Plunged in the gloomy reflections which were naturally excited 
 by his dismal reading, and disconsolate situation, Bertram, for the 
 first time in his life, felt himself affected with a disposition to low 
 spirits. " I have been in worse situations than this too," he said ; 
 — "more dangerous, for here is no danger; more dismal in pro- 
 spect, for my present confinement must necessarily be short ; more 
 intolerable for the time, for here at least I have fire, food, and 
 shelter. Yet, with reading these bloody tales of crime and misery, 
 in a place so corresponding to the ideas which they excite, and in 
 listening to these sad sounds, I feel a stronger disposition to melan- 
 choly than in my life I ever experienced. But I will not give way 
 to it — Begone, thou record of guilt and infamy !" he said, flinging 
 the book upon the spare bed ; " a Scottish jail shall not break, on 
 the very first day, the spirits which have resisted climate, and want, 
 and penury, and disease, and imprisonment, in a foreign land. I 
 have fought many a hard battle with dame Fortune, and she shall 
 not beat me now if I can help it." 
 
 Then bending his mind to a strong effort, he endeavoured to 
 view his situation in the most favourable light. Delaserre must 
 soon be in Scotland ; the certificates from his commanding-officer 
 must soon arrive; nay, if Mannering were first applied to, who 
 could say but the effect might be a reconciliation between them ? 
 He had often observed, and now remembered, that when his former 
 colonel took Jhe part of any one, it was never by halves, and that 
 he seemed to love those persons most who had lain under obliga- 
 tion to him. In the present case, a favour, which could be asked 
 with honour and granted with readiness, might be the means of 
 
288 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 reconciling them to each other. From this his feelings naturally 
 turned towards Julia ; and, without very nicely measuring the 
 distance between a soldier of fortune, who expected that her father's 
 attestation would deliver him from confinement, and the heiress of 
 that father's wealth and expectations, he was building the gayest 
 castle in the clouds, and varnishing it with all the tints of a 
 summer-evening sky, when his labour was interrupted by a loud 
 knocking at the outer-gate, answered by the barking of the gaunt 
 half-starved mastiff, which was quartered in the court-yard as an 
 addition to the garrison. After much scrupulous precaution the 
 gate was opened, and some person admitted. The house door was 
 next unbarred, unlocked, and unchained, a dog's feet pattered up 
 stairs in great haste, and the animal was heard scratching and 
 whining at the door of the room. Next a heavy step was heard 
 lumbering up, and Mac-Guffog's voice in the character of pilot — 
 " This way, this way ; take care of the step ;— that's the room." — 
 Bertram's door was then unbolted, and, to his great surprise and 
 joy, his terrier Wasp rushed into the apartment, and almost de- 
 voured him with caresses, followed by the massy form of his friend 
 from Charlies-hope. 
 
 " Eh whow ! Eh whow ! " ejaculated the honest farmer, as he 
 looked round upon his friend's miserable apartment and wretched 
 accommodation — " What's this o't ! what's this o't ! " 
 
 " Just a trick of fortune, my good friend," said Bertram, riling 
 and shaking him heartily by the hand, " that's all." 
 
 " But what will be dune about it ? — or what can be dune about 
 it ?" said honest Dandie : — " is't for debt, or what is't for ?" 
 
 "Why, it is not for debt," answered Bertram ; " and if you have 
 time to sit down, I'll tell you all I know of the matter myself." 
 
 " If I hae time?" said Dandie, with an accent on the word that 
 sounded like a howl of derision—" Ou, what the deevil am I come 
 here for, man, but just ance errand to see about it ? But ye'll no 
 be the waur o' something to eat, I trow ; — it's getting late at e'en — 
 I tell'd the folk at the Change, where I put up Dumple, to send 
 ower my supper here, and the chield Mac-Guffog is agreeable to 
 let it in — I hae settled a' that. — And now let's hear your story— 
 Whisht, Wasp, man ! wow but he's glad to see you, poor thing !" 
 
 Bertram's story, being confined to the accident of Hazlewood, 
 and the confusion made between his own identity and that of one 
 of the smugglers who had been active in the assault of Wood- 
 bourne, and chanced to bear the same name, was soon told. Din- 
 mont listened very attentively. "Aweel," he said, "this suld be 
 nae sic dooms-desperate business surely — the lad's doing weel 
 again that was hurt, and what signifies twa or three lead draps in 
 
GUY MANNERING. 289 
 
 his shouther ? if ye had putten out his ee, it would hae been another 
 case. But eh, as I wuss auld Sherra Pleydell was to the fore here ! 
 — Od, he was the man for sorting them, and the queerest rough- 
 spoken deevil too that ever ye heard !" 
 
 " But now tell me, my excellent friend, how did you find out I 
 was here ? " 
 
 " Od, lad, queerly eneugh," said Dandie ; " but I'll tell ye that 
 after we are done wi' our supper, for it will maybe no be sae weel 
 to speak about it while that lang-lugged limmer o' a lass is gaun 
 flisking in and out o' the room." 
 
 Bertram's curiosity was in some degree put to rest by the appear- 
 ance of the supper which his friend had ordered, which, although 
 homely enough, had the appetising cleanliness in which Mrs. Mac- 
 GufFog's cookery was so eminently deficient. Dinmont also, pre- 
 mising he had ridden the whole day since breakfast-time, without 
 tasting anything " to speak of," which qualifying phrase related to 
 about three pounds of cold roast mutton which he had discussed at 
 his mid-day stage, — Dinmont, I say, fell stoutly upon the good 
 cheer, and, like one of Homer's heroes, said little, either good or 
 bad, till the rage of thirst and hunger was appeased. At length, 
 after a draught of home-brewed ale, he began by observing, 
 "Aweel, aweel, that hen," looking upon the lamentable relics of 
 what had been once a large fowl, " wasna a bad ane to be bred at 
 a town end, though it's no like our barn-door chuckies at Charlies- 
 hope — and I am glad to see that this vexing job hasna taen awa 
 your appetite, Captain." 
 
 " Why, really, my dinner was not so excellent, Mr. Dinmont, as 
 to spoil my supper." 
 
 " I daur say no, I daur say no," said Dandie. — " But noo, hinny, 
 that ye hae brought us the brandy, and the mug wi' the het water, 
 and the sugar, and a' right, ye may steek the door, ye see, for we 
 wad hae some o' our ain cracks." The damsel accordingly retired, 
 and shut the door of the apartment, to which she added the pre- 
 caution of drawing a large bolt on the outside. 
 
 As soon as she was gone, Dandie reconnoitred the premises, 
 listened at the key-hole, as if he had been listening for the blowing 
 of an otter, and having satisfied himself that there were no 
 eavesdroppers, returned to the table ; and making himself what 
 he called a gey stiff cheerer, poked the fire, and began his story 
 in an under-tone of gravity and importance not very usual with 
 him. 
 
 " Ye see, Captain, I had been in Edinbro' for twa or three days, 
 looking after the burial of a friend that we hae lost, and maybe I 
 suld hae had something for my ride ; but there's disappointments 
 
«90 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 in a' things, and wha can help the like o' that ? And I had a wee 
 bit law business besides, but that's neither here nor there. In 
 short, I had got my matters settled, and hame I cam ; and the 
 morn awa to the muirs to see what the herds had been about, and 
 I thought I might as weel gie a look to the Tout-hope head, where 
 Jock o' Dawston and me has the outcast about a march. Weel, 
 just as I was coming upon the bit, I saw a man afore me that I 
 kenn'd was nane o' our herds, and it's a wild bit to meet ony other 
 body, so when I cam up to him, it was Tod Gabriel the fox-hunter. 
 So I says to him, rather surprised like, < What are ye doing up 
 amang the craws here, without your hounds, man ? are ye seeking 
 the fox without the dogs?' So he said, ' Na, gudeman, but I 
 wanted to see yoursell.' 
 
 ' Ay,' said I, ' and ye'll be wanting eilding now, or something to 
 pit ower the winter ?' 
 
 ' Na, na,' quo' he, ' it's no that I'm seeking ; but ye tak an unco 
 concern in that Captain Brown that was staying wi' you, dy'e no ?' 
 
 ' Troth do I, Gabriel,' says I, 'and what about him, lad?' 
 
 " Says he, ' There's mair tak an interest in him than you, and 
 some that I am bound to obey ; and it's no just on my ain will 
 that I'm here to tell you something about him that will no please 
 you.' 
 
 ' Faith, naething will please me,' quo' I, ' that's no pleasing to 
 him.' 
 
 ' And then,' quo' he, ' ye'll be ill-sorted to hear that he's like to 
 be in the prison at Portanferry, if he disna tak a' the better care o' 
 himsell, for there's been warrants out to tak him as soon as he 
 comes ower the water frae Allonby. And now, gudeman, an ever 
 ye wish him weel, ye maun ride down to Portanferry, and let nae 
 grass grow at the nag's heels ; and if ye find him in confinement, 
 ye maun stay beside him night and day, for a day or twa, for he'll 
 want friends that hae baith heart and hand ; and if ye neglect this, 
 ye'll never rue but ance, for it will be for a' your life.' 
 
 ' But, safe us, man,' quo' I, ' how did ye learn a' this ? it's an unco 
 way between this and Portanferry.' 
 
 ' Never ye mind that,' quo' he ; ' them that brought us the news 
 rade night and day, and ye maun be aff instantly if ye wad do ony 
 gude — and sae I have naething mair to tell ye.' — Sae he sat him- 
 sell doun and hirselled doun into the glen, where it wad hae been 
 ill following him wi' the beast, and I cam back to Charlies-hope to 
 tell the gudewife, for I was uncertain what to do. It wad look 
 unco-like, I thought, just to be sent out on a hunt-the-gowk errand 
 wi' a land-louper like that. But, Lord ! as the gudewife set up her 
 throat about it, and said what a shame it wad be if ye was to come 
 
GUY MANNERING. S91 
 
 to ony wrang, an I could help ye ; and then in cam your letter that 
 confirmed it. So I took to the kist, and out wi' the pickle notes in 
 case they should be needed, and a' the bairns ran to saddle Dumple. 
 By great luck I had taen the other beast to Edinbro', sae Dumple 
 was as fresh as a rose. Sae aff I set, and Wasp wi' me, for ye wad 
 really hae thought he kenn'd where I was gaun, puir beast ; and 
 here I am after a trot o' sixty mile, or near by. But Wasp rade 
 thirty o' them afore me on the saddle, and the puir doggie balanced 
 itsell as ane of the weans wad hae dune, whether I trotted or 
 cantered." 
 
 In this strange story Bertram obviously saw, supposing the 
 warning to be true, some intimation of danger more violent and 
 imminent than could be likely to arise from a few days' imprison- 
 ment. At the same time it was equally evident that some unknown 
 friend was working in his behalf. " Did you not say," he asked 
 Dinmont, " that this man Gabriel was of gipsy blood ?" 
 
 " It was e'en judged sae," said Dinmont, " and I think this maks 
 it likely ; for they aye ken where the gangs o' ilk ither are to be 
 found, and they can gar news flee like a foot-ba' through the 
 country an they like. An' I forgat to tell ye, there's been an unco 
 inquiry after the auld wife that we saw in Bewcastle ; the sheriff's 
 had folk ower the Limestane Edge after her, and down the 
 Hermitage and Liddel, and a' gates, and a reward offered for her 
 to appear, o' fifty pounds sterling, nae less; and Justice Forster, 
 he's had out warrants, as I am tell'd, in Cumberland, and an unco 
 ranging and riping they have had a' gates seeking for her ; but 
 she'll no be taen wi' them unless she likes, for a' that." 
 
 " And how comes that ?" said Bertram. 
 
 " Ou, I dinna ken ; I daur say it's nonsense, but they say she has 
 gathered the fern-seed, and can gang ony gate she likes, like Jock- 
 the-Giant-killer in the ballant, wi' his coat o' darkness and his 
 shoon o' swiftness, Ony way she's a kind o' queen amang the 
 gipsies ; she is mair than a hundred year auld, folk say, and minds 
 the coming in o' the moss-troopers in the troublesome times when 
 the Stuarts were put awa. Sae, if she canna hide hersell, she kens 
 them that can hide her weel eneugh, ye need na doubt that. Od, 
 an I had kenn'd it had been Meg Merrilies yon night at Tibb 
 Mumps's, I wad taen care how I crossed her." 
 
 Bertram listened with great attention to this account, which 
 tallied so well in many points with what he had himself seen of 
 this gipsy sibyl. After a moment's consideration, he concluded it 
 would be no breach of faith to mention what he had seen at Dern- 
 cleugh to a person who held Meg in such reverence as Dinmont 
 obviously did. He told his story accordingly, often interrupted by 
 
 T 2 
 
igx GUY MANNERING. 
 
 ejaculations, such as, " Weel, the like o' that now !" or " Na, dell 
 an that's no something now !" 
 
 When our Liddesdale friend had heard the whole to an end, he 
 shook his great black head—" Weel, I'll uphaud there's baith gude 
 and ill amang the gipsies, and if they deal wi' the Enemy, it's 
 a' their ain business, and no ours. — I ken what the streeking the 
 corpse wad be, weel eneugh. Thae smuggler deevils, when ony 
 o' them's killed in a fray, they'll send for a wife like Meg far 
 eneugh to dress the corpse ; od, it's a' the burial they ever think 
 o' ! and then to be put into the ground without ony decency, just 
 like dogs. But they stick to it that they'll be streekit, and hae an 
 auld wife when they're dying, to rime ower prayers, and ballants, 
 and charms, as they ca' them, rather than they'll hae a minister to 
 come and pray wi' them — that's an auld threep o' theirs ; and I am 
 thinking the man that died will hae been ane o' the folk that was 
 shot when they burnt Woodbourne." 
 
 " But, my good friend, Woodbourne is not burnt," said Bertram. 
 
 " Weel, the better for them that bides in't," answered the store- 
 farmer. " Od, we had it up the water wi' us, that there wasna a 
 stane on the tap o' anither. But there was righting, ony way ; I 
 daur to say, it would be fine fun ! And, as I said, ye may take it 
 on trust, that that's been ane o' the men killed there, and that its 
 been the gipsies that took your pockmanky when they fand the 
 chaise stickin' in the snaw — they wadna pass the like o' that — it 
 wad just come to their hand like the bowl o' a pint stoup." * 
 
 " But if this woman is a sovereign among them, why was she 
 not able to afford me open protection, and to get me back my 
 property ? " 
 
 " Ou, wha kens? she has muckle to say wi' them, but whiles 
 they'll tak their ain way for a' that, when they're under temptation. 
 And then there's the smugglers that they're aye leagued wi' ; she 
 maybe couldna manage them sae weel — they're aye banded the- 
 gither. — I've heard that the gipsies ken when the smugglers will 
 come aff, and where they're to land, better than the very mer- 
 chants that deal wi' them. And then, to the boot o' that, she's 
 whiles crack-brained, and has a bee in her head ; they say that 
 whether her spaeings and fortune-tellings be true or no, for certain 
 she believes in them a' hersell, and is aye guiding hersell by some 
 queer prophecy or anither. So she disna aye gang the straight 
 road to the well. — But deil o' sic a story as yours, wi' glamour and 
 dead folk and losing ane's gate, I ever heard out o' the tale-books ! 
 —But whisht, I hear the keeper coming." 
 
 Mac-Guffog accordingly interrupted their discourse by the harsh 
 harmony of the bolts and bars, and showed his bloated visage at 
 
GUY MANNERING. 293 
 
 the opening door. " Come, Mr. Dinmont, we have put off locking 
 up for an hour to oblige ye ; ye must go to your quarters." 
 
 " Quarters, man ? I intend to sleep here the night. There's a 
 spare bed in the Captain's room." 
 
 " It's impossible 1" answered the keeper. 
 
 " But I say it is possible, and that I winna stir — and there's a 
 dram t'ye." 
 
 Mac-Guffog drank off the- spirits, and resumed his objection. 
 " But it's against rule, sir ; ye have committed nae malefaction." 
 
 " I'll break your head," said the sturdy Liddesdale man, " if ye 
 say ony mair about it, and that will be malefaction eneugh to entitle 
 me to ae night's lodging wi' you ony way." 
 
 " But I tell ye, Mr. Dinmont," reiterated the keeper, " it's against 
 rule, and I behoved to lose my post." 
 
 " Weel, Mac-Guffog," said Dandie, " I hae just twa things to 
 say. Ye ken wha I am weel enough, and that I wadna loose a 
 prisoner." 
 
 " And how do I ken that ? " answered the jailor. 
 
 " Weel, if ye dinna ken that," said the resolute farmer, " ye ken 
 this ; — ye ken ye're whiles obliged to be up our water in the way 
 o' your business; now, if ye let me stay quietly here the night 
 wi' the Captain, I'se pay ye double fees for the .room ; and if ye say 
 no, ye shall hae the best sark-fu' o' sair banes that ever ye had in 
 your life, the first time ye set a foot by Liddel-moat !" 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, gudeman," said Mac-Guffog, " a wilfu' man 
 maun hae his way ; but if I am challenged for it by the justices, 
 I ken wha sail bear the wyte ;" — and having sealed this observa- 
 tion with a- deep oath or two, he retired to bed, after carefully 
 securing all the doors of the Bridewell. The bell from the town 
 steeple tolled nine just as the ceremony was concluded. 
 
 " Although it's but early hours," said the farmer, who had ob- 
 served that his friend looked somewhat pale and fatigued, " I 
 think we had better lie down, Captain, if ye're no agreeable to 
 another cheerer. But troth, ye're nae glass-breaker ; and neither 
 am I, unless it be a screed wi' the neighbours, or when I'm on 
 a ramble." 
 
 Bertram readily assented to the motion of his faithful friend, but, 
 on looking at the bed, felt repugnance to trust himself undressed to 
 Mrs. Mac-Guffog's clean sheets. 
 
 " I'm muckle o' your opinion, Captain," said Dandie. " Od, this 
 bed looks as if a' the colliers in Sanquhar had been in't thegither. 
 But it'll no win through my muckle coat." So saying, he flung 
 himself upon the frail bed with a force that made all its timbers 
 crack, and in a few moments gave audible signal that he was fast 
 
294 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 asleep. Bertram slipped off his coat and boots, and occupied the 
 other dormitory. The strangeness of his destiny, and the mysteries 
 which appeared to thicken around him, while he seemed alike to 
 be persecuted and protected by secret enemies and friends, arising 
 out of a class of people with whom he had no previous connexion, 
 for some time occupied his thoughts. Fatigue, however, gradually 
 composed his mind, and in a short time he was as fast asleep as 
 his companion. And in this comfortable state of oblivion we must 
 leave them, until we acquaint the reader with some other circum- 
 stances which occurred about the same period. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Say from whence 
 
 You owe this strange intelligence ? or why 
 Upon this blasted heath you stop our way 
 With such prophetic greeting ? — 
 Speak, I charge you. Macbeth. 
 
 UPON the evening of the day when Bertram's examination had 
 taken place, Colonel Mannering arrived at Woodbourne from 
 Edinburgh. He found his family in their usual state, which pro- 
 bably, so far as Julia was concerned, would not have been the 
 case had she learned the news of Bertram's arrest. But as, during 
 the Colonel's absence, the two young ladies lived much retired, 
 this circumstance fortunately had not reached Woodbourne. A 
 letter had already made Miss Bertram acquainted with the down- 
 fall of the expectations which had been formed upon the bequest 
 of her kinswoman. Whatever hopes that news might have dis- 
 pelled, the disappointment did not prevent her from joining her 
 friend in affording a cheerful reception to the Colonel, to whom 
 she thus endeavoured to express the deep sense she entertained of 
 his paternal kindness. She touched on her regret, that at such 
 «t season of the year he should have made, upon her account, a 
 journey so fruitless. 
 
 " That it was fruitless to you, my dear," said the Colonel, " I do 
 Aiost deeply lament ; but for my own share, I have made some 
 valuable acquaintances, and have spent the time I have been 
 absent in Edinburgh with peculiar satisfaction ; so that, on that 
 score, there is nothing to be regretted. Even our friend the 
 Dominie is returned thrice the man he was, from having sharpened 
 his wits in controversy with the geniuses of the northern metro- 
 polis," 
 
UUY MANNERING. 29S 
 
 " Of a surety," said the Dominie, with great complacency, " I did 
 wrestle, and was not overcome, though my adversary was cunning 
 in his art." 
 
 " I presume, 1 ' said Miss Mannering, " the contest was somewhat 
 fatiguing, Mr. Sampson ?" 
 
 " Very much, young lady — howbeit, I girded up my loins and 
 strove against him." 
 
 " I can bear witness,'' said the Colonel, " I never saw an affair 
 better contested. The enemy was like the Mahratta cavalry ; he 
 assailed on all sides, and presented no fair mark for artillery ; but 
 Mr. Sampson stood to his guns, notwithstanding, and fired away, 
 now upon the enemy, and now upon the dust which he had raised. 
 But we must not fight our battles over again to-night — to-morrow 
 we shall have the whole at breakfast." 
 
 The next morning at breakfast, however, the Dominie did not 
 make his appearance. He had walked out, a servant said, early 
 in the morning. It was so common for him to forget his meals, 
 that his absence never deranged the family. The housekeeper, a 
 decent old-fashioned Presbyterian matron, having, as such, the 
 highest respect for Sampson's theological acquisitions, had it in 
 charge on 'these occasions to take care that he was no sufferer by 
 his absence of mind, and therefore usually waylaid him on his 
 return, to remind him of his sublunary wants, and to minister to 
 their relief. It seldom, however, happened, that he was absent 
 from two meals together, as was the case in the present instance. 
 We must explain the cause of this unusual occurrence. 
 
 The conversation which Mr. Pleydell had held with Mr. Manner- 
 ing on the subject of the loss of Harry Bertram, had awakened all 
 the painful sensations which that event had inflicted upon Samp- 
 son. The affectionate heart of the poor Dominie had always 
 reproached him, that his negligence in leaving the child in the 
 care of Frank Kennedy had been the proximate cause of the 
 murder of the one, the loss of the other, the death of Mrs. Bertram, 
 and the ruin of the family of his patron. It was a subject which 
 he never conversed upon, — if indeed his mode of speech could be 
 called conversation at any time, — but it was often present to his 
 imagination. The sort of hope so strongly affirmed and asserted 
 in Mrs. Bertram's last settlement, had excited a corresponding 
 feeling in the Dominie's bosom, which was exasperated into a sort 
 of sickening anxiety, by the discredit with which Pleydell had 
 treated it. — "Assuredly," thought Sampson to himself, "he is a 
 man of erudition, and well skilled in the weighty matters of the 
 law ; but he is also a man of humorous levity and inconsistency of 
 speech; and wherefore should he pronounce ex cathedra as it 
 
296 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 were, on the hope expressed by worthy Madam Margaret Bertram 
 of Singleside ? " — 
 
 All this, I say, the Dominie thought to himself; for had he 
 uttered half the sentence, his jaws would have ached for a month 
 under the unusual fatigue of such a continued exertion. The result 
 of these cogitations was a resolution to go and visit the scene of 
 the tragedy at Warroch Point, where he had not been for many 
 years — not, indeed, since the fatal accident had happened. The 
 walk was a long one, for the Point of Warroch lay on the farther 
 side of the Ellangowan property, which was interposed between it 
 and Woodbourne. Besides the Dominie went astray more than 
 once, and met with brooks swoln into torrents by the melting of the 
 snow, where he, honest man, had only the summer-recollection of 
 little trickling rills. 
 
 At length, however, he reached the woods which he had made 
 the object of his excursion, and traversed them with care, muddling 
 his disturbed brains with vague efforts to recall every circumstance 
 of the catastrophe. It will readily be supposed that the influence 
 of local situation and association was inadequate to produce con- 
 clusions different from those which he had formed under the im- 
 mediate pressure of the occurrences themselves. " With many a 
 weary sigh, therefore, and many a groan," the poor Dominie re- 
 turned from his hopeless pilgrimage, and weariedly plodded his 
 way towards Woodbourne, debating at times in his altered mind a 
 question which was forced upon him by the cravings of an appetite 
 rather of the keenest, namely, whether he had breakfasted that 
 morning or no ? — It was in this twilight humour, now thinking of 
 the loss of the child, then involuntarily compelled to meditate upon 
 the somewhat incongruous subject of hung-beef, rolls, and butter, 
 that his route, which was different from that which he had taken in 
 the morning, conducted him past the small ruined tower, or rather 
 vestige of a tower called by the country people the Kaim of 
 Derncleugh. 
 
 The reader may recollect the description of this ruin in the 
 twenty-seventh chapter of this narrative, as the vault in which 
 young Bertram, under the auspices of Meg Merrilies, witnessed the 
 death of Hatteraick's lieutenant. The tradition of the country 
 added ghostly terrors to the natural awe inspired by the situation of 
 this place, which terrors the gipsies, who so long inhabited the 
 vicinity, had probably invented, or at least propagated, for their 
 own advantage. It was said, that during the times of the Gal- 
 wegian independence, one Hanlon Mac-Dingawaie, brother to the 
 reigning chief, Knarth Mac-Dingawaie, murdered his brother and 
 sovereign, in order to usurp the principality from his infant nephew, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 297 
 
 and that being pursued for vengeance by the faithful allies and re- 
 tainers of the house, who espoused the cause of the lawful heir, he 
 was compelled to retreat, with a few followers whom he had involved 
 in his crime, to this impregnable tower called the Kaim of Dern- 
 cleugh, where he defended himself until nearly reduced by famine, 
 when, setting fire to the place, he and the small remaining garrison 
 desperately perished by their own swords, rather than fall into the 
 hands of their exasperated enemies. This tragedy, which consider- 
 ing the wild times wherein it was placed, might have some founda- 
 tion in truth, was larded with many legends of superstition and 
 diablerie, so that most of the peasants of the neighbourhood, if 
 benighted, would rather have chosen to make a considerable circuit, 
 than pass these haunted walls. The lights, often seen around the 
 tower when used as the rendezvous of the lawless characters by 
 whom it was occasionally frequented, were accounted for, under 
 authority of these tales^of witchery, in a manner at once convenient 
 for the private parties concerned, and satisfactory to the public. 
 
 Now it must be confessed that our friend Sampson, although a 
 profound scholar and mathematician, had not travelled so far in 
 philosophy as to doubt the reality of witchcraft or apparitions. 
 Bom indeed at a time when a doubt in the existence of witches 
 was interpreted as equivalent to a justification of their infernal 
 practices, a belief of such legends had been impressed upon the 
 Dominie as an article indivisible from his religious faith ; and per- 
 haps it would have been equally difficult to have induced him to 
 doubt the one as the other. With these feelings, and in a thick 
 misty day, which was already drawing to its close, Dominie Samp- 
 son did not pass the Kaim of Derncleugh without some feelings of 
 tacit horror. 
 
 What, then, was his astonishment, when, on passing the door — 
 that door which was supposed to have been placed there by one 
 of the latter Lairds of Ellangowan to prevent presumptuous 
 strangers from incurring the dangers of the haunted vault — that 
 door, supposed to be always locked, and the key of which was 
 popularly said to be deposited with the presbytery — that door, that 
 very door, opened suddenly, and the figure of Meg Merrilies, well 
 known, though not seen for many a revolving year, was placed at ' 
 once before the eyes of the startled Dominie ! She stood imme- 
 diately before him in the foot-path, confronting him so absolutely, 
 that he could not avoid her except by fairly turning back, which his 
 manhood prevented him from thinking of. 
 
 " I kenn'd ye wad be here," she said, with her harsh and hollow 
 voice : "I ken wha ye seek ; but ye maun do my bidding." 
 
 " Get thee behind me ! " said the alarmed Dominie—" Avoid yc ! 
 
ag8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 — Conjurote, scelestissima — neqnissima — spurcissima — iniquissima 
 — clique miserrima — conjuro le ! ! ! " 
 
 Meg stood her ground against this tremendous volley of superla- 
 tives, which Sampson hawked up from the pit of his stomach, and 
 hurled at her in thunder. "Is the carl daft," she said, "wi' his 
 glamour ? " 
 
 "Conjuro," continued the Dominie, " abjuro contestor, atque 
 viriliter impero tibi ! "■> 
 
 " What, in the name of Sathan, are ye feared for, wi' your French 
 gibberish, that would make a dog sick ? Listen, ye stickit stibbler, 
 to what I tell ye, or ye sail rue it while there's a limb o' ye hings 
 to anither ! — Tell Colonel Mannering that I ken he's seeking me. 
 He kens, and I ken, that the blood will be wiped out, and the lost 
 will be found, 
 
 And Bertram's right and Bertram's might 
 Shall meet on Ellangowan height. 
 
 Hae, there's a letter to him ; I was gaun to send it in another way. 
 — I canna write mysell ; but I hae them that will baith write and 
 read, and ride and rin for me. Tell him the time's coming now, 
 and the weird's dreed, and the wheel's turning. Bid him look 
 at the stars as he has looked at them before, — Will ye mind 
 a' this?" 
 
 "Assuredly," said the Dominie, "I am dubious — for, woman, I 
 am perturbed at thy words, and my flesh quakes to hear thee." 
 " They'll do you nae ill though, and maybe muckle gude." 
 " Avoid ye ! I desire no good that comes by unlawful means.'' 
 " Fule-body that thou art ! " said Meg, stepping up to him with a 
 frown of indignation that made her dark eyes flash like lamps from 
 under her bent brows—" fule-body ! if I meant ye wrang, couldna 
 I clod ye ower that craig, and wad man ken how ye cam by your 
 end mair than Frank Kennedy ? Hear ye that, ye worricow ? " 
 
 " In the name of all that is good," said the Dominie, recoiling, 
 and pointing his long pewter-headed walking-cane like a javelin at 
 the supposed sorceress, — " in the name of all that is good, bide 
 off hands ! I will not be handled — woman, stand off, upon thine 
 own proper peril ! — desist, I say — I am strong — lo, I will resist !" 
 -Here his speech was cut short; for Meg, armed with super- 
 natural strength (as the Dominie asserted), broke in upon his guard, 
 put by a thrust which he made at her with his cane, and lifted him 
 into the vault, " as easily," said he, " as I could sway a Kitchen's 
 Atlas." 
 
 " Sit down there," she said, pushing the half-throttled preacher 
 with some violence against a broken chair — " sit down there, and 
 

 4 
 
 * 
 
GUY MANNERING. 299 
 
 gather your wind and your senses, ye black barrow-tram o' the kirk 
 that ye are ! Are ye fou or fasting ? " 
 
 " Fasting — from all but sin," answered the Dominie, who, recover- 
 ing his voice, and finding his exorcisms only served to exasperate 
 the intractable sorceress, thought it best to affect complaisance and 
 submission, inwardly conning over, however, the wholesome con- 
 jurations which he durst no longer utter aloud. But as the Domi- 
 nie's brain was by no means equal to carry on two trains of ideas 
 at the same time, a word or two of his mental exercise sometimes 
 escaped, and mingled with his uttered speech in a manner ludicrous 
 enough, especially as the poor man shrunk himself together after 
 every escape of the kind, from terror of the effect it might produce 
 upon the irritable feelings of the witch. 
 
 Meg, in the meanwhile, went to a great black cauldron that was 
 boiling on a fire on the floor, and, lifting the lid, an odour was 
 diffused through the vault, which, if the vapours of a witch's caul- 
 dron could in aught be trusted, promised better things than the 
 hell-broth which such vessels are usually supposed . to contain. It 
 was in fact the savour of a goodly stew, composed [of fowls, hares, 
 partridges, and moorgame, boiled in a large mess with potatoes, 
 onions, and leeks, and from the size of the cauldron, appeared to 
 be prepared for half a dozen of people at least. " So ye hae eat 
 naething a' day?" said Meg, heaving a large portion of this mess 
 into a brown dish, and strewing it savourily with salt and pepper.* 
 
 " Nothing," answered the Dominie — scelestissima ! — that is — 
 gudewife." 
 
 " Hae then,'' said she, placing the dish before him, " there's what 
 will warm your heart." 
 
 " I do not hunger — malefica — that is to say — Mrs. Merrilies ! " 
 for he said unto himself, " the savour is sweet, but it hath been 
 cooked by a Canidia or an Ericthoe." 
 
 " If ye dinna eat instantly, and put some saul in ye, by the bread 
 and the salt, I'll put it down your throat wi' the cutty spoon, scauld- 
 ing as it is, and whether ye will or no. Gape, sinner, and swallow ! " 
 
 Sampson, afraid of eye of newt, and toe of frog, tigers' chaudrons, 
 and so forth, had determined not to venture ; but the smell of the 
 stew was fast melting his obstinacy, which flowed from his chops as 
 it were in streams of water, and the witch's threats decided him to 
 feed. Hunger and fear are excellent casuists. 
 
 "Saul," said Hunger, "feasted with the witch of Endor."— 
 " And," quoth Fear, " the salt which she sprinkled upon the food 
 showeth plainly it is not a necromantic banquet, in which that 
 seasoning never occurs."—" And besides," says Hunger, after the 
 first spoonful, " it is savoury and refreshing viands," 
 
Soo GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " So ye like the meat?" said the hostess. 
 
 " Yea," answered the Dominie, " and J, give thee thanks— scele- 
 ratissima ! — which means — Mrs. Margaret." 
 
 " Aweel, eat your fill ; but an ye kenn'd how it was gotten, ye 
 maybe wadna like it sae weel." Sampson's spoon dropped, in the 
 act of conveying its load to his mouth. " There's been mony a 
 moonlight watch to bring a 'that trade thegither," continued Meg, 
 — " the folk that are to eat that dinner thought little o' your game- 
 laws." 
 
 "Is that all ? " thought Sampson, resuming his spoon, and shovel- 
 ling away manfully; " I will not lack my food upon that argument." 
 
 " Now, ye maun tak a dram." 
 
 " I will," quoth Sampson — " conjuro te— that is, I thank you 
 heartily," for he thought to himself, in for a penny, in for a pound ; 
 and he fairly drank the witch's health in a cupful of brandy. When 
 he had put this cope-stone upon Meg's good cheer, he felt, as he- 
 said, " mightily elevated, and afraid of no evil which could befall 
 unto him." 
 
 "Will ye remember my errand now?" said Meg Merrilies; " I 
 ken by the cast o' your ee that ye're anither man than when you 
 cam in." 
 
 " I will, Mrs. Margaret," repeated Sampson stoutly ; " I will 
 deliver unto him the sealed yepistle, and will add what you please 
 to send by word of mouth." 
 
 " Then I'll make it short," says Meg. "Tell him to look at the 
 stars without fail this night, and to do what I desire him in that 
 letter, as he would wish 
 
 That Bertram's right and Bertram's might 
 Should meet on Ellangowan height. 
 
 I have seen him twice when he saw na me ; I ken when he was in 
 this country first, and I ken what's brought him back again. Up, 
 an' to the gate ! ye're ower lang here — follow me." 
 
 Sampson followed the sibyl accordingly, who guided him about a 
 quarter of a mile through the woods, by a shorter cut than he could 
 have found for himself ; they then entered upon the common, Meg 
 still marching before him at a great pace, until she gained the top 
 of a small hillock which overhung the road. 
 
 " Here," she said, " stand still here. Look how the setting sun 
 breaks through yon cloud that's been darkening the lift a' day. 
 See where the first stream o' light fa's — it's upon Donagild's round 
 tower — the oldest tower in the Castle o' Ellangowan — that's no for 
 naething ! — See as it's glooming to seaward abune yon sloop in the 
 bay — that's no for naething neither. — Here I stood on this very 
 
GUY MANNERING. 301 
 
 spot," said she, drawing herself up so as not to lose one hair-breadth 
 of her uncommon height, and stretching out her long sinewy arm 
 and clenched hand, " here I stood, when I tauld the last Laird o' 
 Ellangowan what was coming on his house ; — and did that fa' to 
 the ground ? Na — it hit even ower sair ! — And here, where I brake 
 the wand of peace ower him — here I stand again — to bid God bless 
 and prosper the just heir of Ellangowan that will sune be brought 
 to his ain ; and the best laird he shall be that Ellangowan has seen 
 for three hundred years. — I'll no live to see it, maybe ; but there 
 will be mony a blythe ee see it though mine be closed. And now, 
 Abel Sampson, as ever ye lo'ed the house of Ellangowan, away wi" 
 my message to the English Colonel, as if life and death were upon 
 your haste ! " 
 
 So saying, she turned suddenly from the amazed Dominie, and 
 regained with swift and long strides the shelter of the wood from 
 which she had issued, at the point where it most encroached upon 
 the common. Sampson gazed after her for a moment in utter as- 
 tonishment, and then obeyed her directions, hurrying toWoodbourne 
 at a pace very unusual for him, exclaiming three times, " Pro- 
 digious ! prodigious ! pro-di-gi-ous ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 It is not madness 
 
 That I have uttertl ; bring me to the test, 
 And I the matter will re-word ; which madness 
 Would gambol from. Hamlet. 
 
 As Mr. Sampson crossed the hall with a bewildered look, Mrs. 
 Allan, the good housekeeper, who, with the reverent attention which 
 is usually rendered to the clergy in Scotland, was on the watch for 
 his return, sallied forth to meet him — " What's this o't now, Mr. 
 Sampson ; this is waur than ever ! — ye'll really do yourself some 
 injury wi' these lang fasts — naething's sae hurtful to the stamach, 
 Mr. Sampson ; — if ye would but put some peppermint draps in your 
 pocket, or let Barnes cut ye a sandwich." 
 
 " Avoid thee ! " quoth the Dominie, his mind running still upon 
 his interview with Meg Merrilies, and making for the dining- 
 parlour. 
 
 " Na, ye needna gang in there, the cloth's been removed an hour 
 syne, and the Colonel's at his wine ; but just step into my room, I 
 have a nice steak that the cook will do in a moment." 
 
 " Exorciso te J " said Sampson, — " that is, I have dined." 
 
3°2 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Dined ! it's impossible — wha can ye hae dined wi', you that 
 gangs out nae gate ? " 
 
 " With Beelzebub, I believe," said the minister. 
 
 "Na, then he's bewitched for certain," said the housekeeper, 
 letting go her hold ; " he's bewitched, or he's daft, and ony way the 
 Colonel maun just guide him his ain gate — Wae's me ! Hech, sirs ! 
 It's a sair thing to see learning bring folk to this ! "* And with this 
 compassionate ejaculation she retreated into her own premises. 
 
 The object of her commiseration had by this time entered the 
 dining-parlour, where his appearance gave great surprise. He was 
 mud up to the shoulders, and the natural paleness of his hue was 
 twice as cadaverous as usual, through terror, fatigue, and perturba- 
 tion of mind. " What on earth is the meaning of this, Mr. Samp- 
 son ?" said Mannering, who observed Miss Bertram looking much 
 alarmed for her sjmple but attached friend. 
 
 " Exorciso" — said the Dominie. 
 
 " How, sir?" replied the astonished Colonel. 
 
 " I crave pardon, honourable sir ! but my wits "— — 
 
 " Are gone a wool-gathering, I think — pray, Mr. Sampson, collect 
 yourself, and let me know the meaning of all this." 
 
 Sampson was about to reply, but finding his Latin formula of 
 exorcism still came most readily to his tongue, he prudently desisted 
 from the attempt, and put the scrap of paper which he had received 
 from the gipsy into Mannering's hand, who broke the seal and read 
 it with surprise. " This seems to be some jest," he said, " and a 
 very dull one." 
 
 " It came from no jesting person," said Mr. Sampson. 
 
 " From whom then did it come ? " demanded Mannering. 
 
 The Dominie, who often displayed some delicacy of recollection 
 in cases where Miss Bertram had an interest, remembered the 
 painful circumstances connected with Meg Merrilies, looked at the 
 young ladies, and remained silent. " We will join you at the tea- 
 table in an instant, Julia," said the Colonel ; " I see that Mr. Samp- 
 son wishes to speak to me alone. — And now they are gone, what, in 
 Heaven's name, Mr. Sampson, is the meaning of all this ?" 
 
 " It may be a message from Heaven," said the Dominie, " but it 
 came by Beelzebub's postmistress. It was that witch, Meg Merri- 
 Hes, who should have been burned with a tar-barrel twenty years 
 since, for a harlot, thief, witch, and gipsy." 
 
 "Are you sure it was she?" said the Colonel, with great 
 interest. 
 
 " Sure, honoured sir ? — Of a truth she is one not to be forgotten— 
 the like o' Meg Merrilies is not to be seen in any land." 
 
 The Colonel paced the room rapidly, cogitating with himself. 
 
GUY MANNER1NG. 363 
 
 " To send out to apprehend her — but it is too distant to send to 
 Mac-Morlan, and Sir Robert Hazlewood is a pompous coxcomb ; 
 besides the chance of not finding her upon the spot, or that the 
 humour of silence that seized her before may again return ; — no, I 
 will not, to save being thought a fool, neglect the course she points 
 out. Many of her class set out by being impostors, and end by be- 
 coming enthusiasts, or hold a kind of darkling conduct between 
 both lines, unconscious almost when they are cheating themselves, 
 or when imposing on others. — Well, my course is a plain one at 
 any rate ; and if my efforts are fruitless, it shall not be owing to 
 over-jealousy of my own character for wisdom." 
 
 With this he rang the bell, and ordering Barnes into his private 
 sitting-room, gave him some orders, with the result of which the 
 reader may be made hereafter acquainted. We must now take up 
 another adventure, which is also to be woven into the story of this 
 remarkable day. 
 
 Charles Hazlewood had not ventured to make a visit at Wood- 
 bourne during the absence of the Colonel. Indeed Mannering's 
 whole behaviour had impressed upon him an opinion that this would 
 be disagreeable j and such was the ascendency which the success- 
 ful soldier and accomplished gentleman had attained over the 
 young man's conduct, that in no respect would he have ventured to 
 offend him. He saw, or thought he saw, in Colonel Mannering's 
 general conduct, an approbation of his attachment to Miss Ber- 
 tram. But then he saw still more plainly the impropriety of any 
 attempt at a private correspondence, of which his parents could not 
 be supposed to approve, and he respected this barrier interposed 
 betwixt them, both on Mannering's account, and as he was the 
 liberal and zealous protector of Miss Bertram. " No," said he to 
 himself, " I will not endanger the comfort of my Lucy's present 
 retreat, until I can offer her a home of her own." 
 
 With this valorous resolution, which he maintained, although his 
 horse, from constant habit, turned his head down the avenue of 
 Woodbourne, and although he himself passed the lodge twice every 
 day, Charles Hazlewood withstood a strong inclination to ride down, 
 just to ask how the young ladies were, and whether he could be of 
 any service to them during Colonel Mannering's absence. But on 
 the second occasion he felt the temptation so severe, that he resolved 
 not to expose himself to it a third time ; and, contenting himself 
 with sending hopes and inquiries, and so forth, to Woodbourne, he 
 resolved to make a visit long promised to a family at some distance, 
 and to return at such time as to be one of the earliest among 
 Mannering's visitors who should congratulate his safe arrival from 
 his distant and hazardous expedition to Edinburgh. Accordingly, 
 
3°4 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 he made out his visit, and having arranged matters so as to be in- 
 formed within a few hours after Colonel Mannering reached home, 
 he finally resolved to take leave of the friends with whom he had 
 spent the intervening time, with the intention of dining at Wood- 
 bourne, where he was in a great measure domesticated; and this 
 (for he thought much more deeply on the subject than was neces- 
 sary) would, he flattered himself, appear a simple, natural, and easy 
 mode of conducting himself. 
 
 Fate, however, of which lovers make so many complaints, was in 
 this case unfavourable to Charles Hazlewood. His horse's shoes 
 required an alteration, in consequence of the fresh weather having 
 decidedly commenced. The lady of the house where he was a 
 visitor, chose to indulge in her own room till a very late breakfast 
 hour. His friend also insisted on showing him a litter of puppies, 
 which his favourite pointer bitch had produced that morning. The 
 colours had occasioned some doubts about the paternity, a weighty 
 question of legitimacy to the decision of which Hazlewood's opinion 
 was called in as arbiter between his friend and his groom, and which 
 inferred in its consequences which of the litter should be drowned, 
 which saved. Besides, the Laird himself delayed our young lover's 
 departure for a considerable time, endeavouring with long and 
 superfluous rhetoric, to insinuate to Sir Robert Hazlewood, through 
 the medium of his son, bis own particular ideas respecting the line 
 of a meditated turnpike road. It is greatly to the shame of our 
 young lover's apprehension, that after the tenth reiterated account 
 of the matter, he could not see the advantage to be obtained by the 
 proposed road passing over the Lang-hirst, Windyknowe, the Good- 
 house-park, Hailziecroft, and then crossing the river at Simon's 
 Pool, and so by the road to Kippletringan ; and the less eligible 
 line pointed out by the English surveyor, which would go clear 
 through the main enclosures at Hazlewood, and cut within a mile, 
 or nearly so, of the house itself, destroying the privacy and plea- 
 sure, as his informer contended, of the grounds. 
 
 In short, the adviser (whose actual interest was to have the bridge 
 built as near as possible to a farm of his own) failed in every effort 
 to attract young Hazlewood's attention, until he mentioned by 
 chance that the proposed line was favoured by " that fellow Glos- 
 sin," who pretended to take a lead in the county. On a sudden, 
 young Hazlewood became attentive and interested ; and having 
 satisfied himself which was the line that Glossin patronised, assured 
 his friend it should not be his fault if his father did not countenance 
 any other instead of that. But these various interruptions consumed 
 the morning. Hazlewood got on horseback at least three hours 
 later than he intended, and, cursing fine ladies, pointers, puppies, 
 
GUY MANNERINQ. 305 
 
 and turnpike acts of parliament, saw himself detained beyond the 
 time when he could, with propriety, intrude upon the family at 
 Woodbourne. 
 
 He had passed, therefore, the turn of the road which led to that 
 mansion, only edified by the distant appearance of the blue smoke 
 curling against the pale sky of the winter evening, when he thought 
 he beheld the Dominie taking a footpath for the house through the 
 woods. He called after him, but in vain ; for that honest gentle- 
 man, never the most susceptible of extraneous impressions, had 
 just that moment parted from Meg Merrilies, and was too deeply 
 wrapt up in pondering upon her vaticinations, to make any answer 
 to Hazlewood's call. He was therefore obliged to let him proceed 
 without inquiry after the health of the young ladies, or any other 
 fishing question, to which he might, by good chance, have had an 
 answer returned wherein Miss Bertram's name might have been 
 mentioned. All cause for haste was now over, and, slackening the 
 reins upon his horse's neck, he permitted the animal to ascend at 
 his own leisure the steep sandy track between two high banks, 
 which, rising to a considerable height, commanded, at length, an 
 extensive view of the neighbouring country. 
 
 Hazlewood was, however, so far from eagerly looking forward to 
 this prospect, though it had the recommendation that great part of 
 the land was his father's, and must necessarily be his own, that his 
 head still turned backward towards the chimneys of Woodbourne, 
 although, at every step his horse made, the difficulty of employing 
 his eyes in that direction became greater. From the reverie in 
 which he was sunk, he was suddenly roused by a voice too harsh to 
 be called female, yet too shrill for a man : " What's kept you on 
 the road sae lang ? — maun ither folk do your wark ? " 
 
 He looked up ; the spokeswoman was very tall, had a voluminous 
 handkerchief rolled round her head, grizzled hair flowing in elf- 
 locks from beneath it, a long red cloak, and a staff in her hand, 
 headed with a sort of spear-point — it was, in short, Meg Merrilies. 
 Hazlewood had never seen this remarkable figure before ; he drew 
 up his reins in astonishment at her appearance, and made a full 
 stop. " I think," continued she, " they that hae taen interest in the 
 house of Ellangowan suld sleep nane this night ; three men hae 
 been seeking ye, and you are gaun hame to sleep in your bed — d'ye 
 think if the lad-bairn fa's, the sister will do weel ? na, na ! " 
 
 " I don't understand you, good woman," said Hazlewood : "if you 
 
 speak of Miss 1 mean of any of the late Ellangowan family, 
 
 tell me what I can do for them." 
 
 " Of the late Ellangowan family ?" she answered with, great vehe- 
 mence ; " of the late Ellangowan family ! and when was there ever, 
 
 u 
 
3oS GUY MANNERING. 
 
 or when will there ever be, a family of Ellangowan, but bearing the 
 gallant name of the bauld Bertrams P " 
 
 " But what do you mean, good woman ? " 
 
 " I am nae good woman — a' the country kens I am bad eneugh, 
 and baith they and I may be sorry eneugh that I am nae better. 
 But I can do what good women canna and daurna do. I can do 
 what would freeze the blood o' them that is bred in biggit wa's for 
 naething but to bind bairns' heads, and to hap them in the cradle. 
 Hear me ! — The guard's drawn off at the Customhouse at Portan- 
 ferry, and it's brought up to Hazlewood-House by your father's 
 orders, because he thinks his house is to be attacked this night by 
 the smugglers — there's naebody means to touch his house ; he has 
 gude blood and gentle blood — I say little o' him for himsell, but 
 there's naebody thinks him worth meddling wi\ Send the horse- 
 men back to their post, cannily and quietly — see an they winna hae 
 wark the night — ay will they — the guns will flash and the swords 
 will glitter in the braw moon." 
 
 " Good God ! what do you mean ! " said young Hazlewood ; 
 " your words and manner would persuade me you are mad, and yet 
 there is a strange combination in what yovi say." 
 
 " I am not mad ! " exclaimed the gipsy ; " I have been imprisoned 
 for mad — scourged for mad— banished for mad — but mad I am not. 
 Hear ye, Charles Hazlewood of Hazlewood : d'ye bear malice 
 against him that wounded you ? " 
 
 " No, dame, God forbid ; my arm is quite well, and I have always 
 said the shot was discharged by accident. I should be glad to tell 
 the young man so himself." 
 
 " Then do what I bid ye," answered Meg Merrilies, " and ye'll do 
 him mair gude than ever he did you ill ; for if he was left to his ill- 
 Wishers he would be a bloody corpse ere morn, or a banished man 
 — but there's ane abune a'.— Do as I bid you ; send back the sol- 
 diers to Portanferry. There's nae mair fear o' Hazlewood-House 
 than there's o' Criffelfell." And she vanished with her usual cele- 
 rity of pace. 
 
 It would seem that the appearance of this female, and the mixture 
 of frenzy and enthusiasm in her manner, seldom failed to produce 
 the strongest impression upon those whom she addressed. Her 
 words, though wild, were too plain and intelligible for actual mad- 
 ness, and yet too vehement and extravagant for sober-minded com- 
 munication. She seemed acting under the influence of an imagina- 
 tion rather strongly excited than deranged ; and it is wonderful 
 how palpably the difference, in such cases, is impressed upon the 
 mind of the auditor. This may account for the attention with 
 which her strange and mysterious hints were heard and acted upon, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 307 
 
 it is certain, at least, that young Hazlewood was strongly impressed 
 by her sudden appearance and imperative tone. He rode to 
 Hazlewood at a brisk pace. It had been dark for some time before 
 he reached the house, and on his arrival there, he saw a confirma- 
 tion of what the sibyl had hinted., 
 
 Thirty dragoon horses stood under a shed near the offices, with 
 their bridles linked together. Three or four soldiers attended as a 
 guard, while others stamped up and down with their long broad- 
 swords and heavy boots in front of the house. Hazlewood asked a 
 non-commissioned officer "from whence they came?" 
 
 " From Portanferry." 
 
 " Had they left any guard there ? " 
 
 " No ; they had been drawn off by order of Sir Robert Hazle- 
 wood, for the defence of his house, against an attack which was 
 threatened by the smugglers." 
 
 Charles Hazlewood instantly went in quest of his father, and 
 having paid his respects to him upon his return, requested to know 
 upon what account he had thought it necessary to send for a mili- 
 tary escort. Sir Robert assured his son in reply, " that from the 
 information, intelligence, and tidings, which had been communicated 
 to, and laid before him, he had the deepest reason to believe, credit, 
 and be convinced, that a riotous assault would that night be 
 attempted and perpetrated against Hazlewood-House, by a set of 
 smugglers, gipsies, and other desperadoes." 
 
 " And what, my dear sir," said his son, " should direct the fury of 
 such persons against ours rather than any other house in the 
 country ? " • 
 
 " I should rather think, suppose, and be of opinion, sir," an- 
 swered Sir Robert, " with deference to your wisdom and experi- 
 ence, that on these occasions and times, the vengeance of such per- 
 sons is directed or levelled against the most important and distin- 
 guished in point of rank, talent, birth, and situation, who have 
 checked, interfered with, and discountenanced their unlawful and 
 illegal and criminal actions or deeds." 
 
 Young Hazlewood, who knew his father's foible, answered, " that 
 the cause of his surprise did not lie where Sir Robert apprehended, 
 but that he only wondered they should think of attacking a house 
 where there were so many servants, and where a signal to the 
 neighbouring tenants could call in such strong assistance ; " and 
 added, " that he doubted much whether the reputation of the family 
 would not in some degree suffer from calling soldiers from their 
 duty at the Custom-house to protect them, as if they were not suffi- 
 ciently strong to defend themselves upon any ordinary occasion." 
 He even hinted, " that in case their house's enemies should observe 
 
 u a 
 
3°8 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 that this precaution had been taken unnecessarily, there would be no 
 end of their sarcasms." 
 
 Sir Robert Hazlewood was rather puzzled at this intimation, for, 
 like most dull men, he heartily hated and feared ridicule. He 
 gathered himself up, and looked with a sort of pompous embarass- 
 ment, as if he wished to be thought to despise the opinion of the 
 public, which in reality he dreaded. 
 
 " I really should have thought," he said, " that the injury which 
 had already been aimed at my house in your person, being the next 
 heir and representative of the Hazlewood family, failing me — I should 
 have thought and believed, I say, that this would have justified me 
 sufficiently in the eyes of the most respectable and the greater part 
 of the people, for taking such precautions as are calculated to pre- 
 vent and impede a repetition of outrage." 
 
 " Really, sir," said Charles, " I must remind you of what I have 
 often said before, that I am positive the discharge of the piece was 
 accidental." 
 
 " Sir, it was not accidental," said his father, angrily ; " but you 
 will be wiser than your elders." 
 
 " Really, sir," replied Hazlewood, " in what so intimately con- 
 cerns myself" 
 
 " Sir, it does not concern you but in a very secondary degree- 
 that is, it does not concern you, as a giddy young fellow, who takes 
 pleasure in contradicting his father ; but it concerns the country, 
 sir ; and the county, sir ; and the public, sir ; and the kingdom of 
 Scotland, in so far as the interest of the Hazlewood family, sir, is 
 committed, and interested, and put in peril, in, by, and through you, 
 sir. And the fellow is in safe custody, and Mr. Glossin thinks " 
 
 "Mr. Glossin, sir?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, the gentleman who has purchased Ellangowan — you 
 know who I mean, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered the young man ; " but I should hardly have 
 expected to hear you quote such authority. Why, this fellow — all 
 the world knows him to be sordid, mean, tricking ; and I suspect 
 him to be worse. And you, yourself, my dear sir, when did you call 
 such a person a gentleman in your life before ? " 
 
 " Why, Charles, I did not mean gentleman in the precise sense 
 and meaning, and restricted and proper use, to which, no doubt, the 
 phrase ought legitimately to be confined ; but I meant to use it rela- 
 tively, as marking something of that state to which he has elevated 
 and raised himself — as designing, in short, a decent and wealthy and 
 estimable sort of a person." 
 
 " Allow me to ask, sir," said Charles, " if it was by this man's 
 orders that the guard was drawn from Portanferry ? ' 
 
GUY MANNERING. 309 
 
 " Sir," replied the Baronet, " I do apprehend that Mr. Glossin 
 would not presume to give orders, or even an opinion, unless asked, 
 in a matter in which Hazlewood-House and the House of Hazle- 
 wood — -meaning by the one this mansion-house of my family, and by 
 the other, typically, metaphorically, and parabolically, the family 
 itself — I say then where the House of Hazlewood, or Hazlewood- 
 House, was so immediately concerned." 
 
 " I presume, however, sir," said the son, " this Glossin approved 
 of the proposal ? " 
 
 " Sir," replied his father, " I thought it decent and right and proper 
 to consult him as the nearest magistrate, as soon as the report of the 
 intended outrage reached my ears ; and although he declined, out of 
 deference and respect, as became our relative situations, to concur 
 in the order, yet he did entirely approve of my arrangement." 
 
 At this moment a horse's feet were heard coming very fast up the 
 avenue. In a few minutes the door opened, and Mr. Mac-Morlan 
 presented himself. " I am under great concern to intrude, Sir 
 Robert, but" 
 
 " Give me leave, Mr. Mac-Morlan," said Sir Robert, with a gra- 
 cious flourish of welcome ; " this is no intrusion, sir ; for your situa- 
 tion as Sheriff-substitute calling upon you to attend to the peace of 
 the county (and you, doubtless, feeling yourself particularly called 
 upon to protect Hazlewood-House), you have an acknowledged, and 
 admitted, and undeniable right, sir, to enter the house of the first 
 gentleman in Scotland, uninvited — always presuming you to be 
 called there by the duty of your office." 
 
 " It is indeed the duty of my office," said Mac-Morlan, who 
 waited with impatience an opportunity to speak, " that makes me 
 an intruder." 
 
 "No intrusion !" reiterated the Baronet, gracefully waving his 
 hand. 
 
 " But permit me to say, Sir Robert," said the Sheriff-substitute, 
 " I do not come with the purpose of remaining here, but to recall 
 these soldiers to Portanferry, and to assure you that I will answer 
 for the safety of your house." 
 
 "To withdraw the guard from Hazlewood-House I" exclaimed 
 the proprietor in mingled displeasure and surprise; " and you will 
 be answerable for it ! And pray, who are you, sir, that I should 
 take your security, and caution, and pledge, official or personal, for 
 the safety of Hazlewood-House ? — I think, sir, and believe, sir, and 
 am of opinion, sir, that if any one of these family pictures were 
 deranged, or destroyed, or injured, it would be difficult for me to 
 make up the loss upon the guarantee which you so obligingly 
 offer me." 
 
3" GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " In that case I shall be sorry for it, Sir Robert," answered the 
 downright Mac-Morlan ; "but I presume I may escape the pain of 
 feeling my conduct the cause of such irreparable loss, as I can 
 assureyou there will be no attempt upon Hazlewood-House whatever, 
 and I have received information which induces me to suspect that 
 the rumour was put afloat merely in order to occasion the removal 
 of the soldiers from Portanferry. And under this strong belief and 
 conviction, I must exert my authority as sheriff and chief magis- 
 trate of police, to order the whole, or greater part of them, back 
 again. I regret much, that by my accidental absence a good deal 
 of delay has already taken place, and we shall not now reach Port- 
 anferry until it is late." 
 
 As Mr. Mac-Morlan was the superior magistrate, and expressed 
 himself peremptory in the purpose of acting as such, the Baronet, 
 though highly offended, could only say, " Very well, sir, it is very 
 well. Nay, sir, take them all with you — I am far from desiring any 
 to be left here, sir. We, sir, can protect ourselves, sir. But you 
 will have the goodness to observe, sir, that you are acting on your 
 own proper risk, sir, and peril, sir, and responsibility, sir, if any- 
 thing shall happen or befall to Hazlewood-House, sir, or the inha- 
 bitants, sir, or to the furniture and paintings, sir." 
 
 " I am acting to the best of my judgment and information, Sir 
 Robert," said Mac-Morlan, " and I must pray of you to believe so, 
 and to pardon me accordingly. I beg you to observe it is no time 
 for ceremony — it is already very late." 
 
 But Sir Robert, without deigning to listen to his apologies, im- 
 mediately employed himself with much parade in arming and array- 
 ing his domestics. Charles Hazlewood longed to accompanythemili- 
 tary, which were about to depart for Portanferry, and which were now 
 drawn up and mounted by direction, and under the guidance of Mr. 
 Mac-Morlan, as the civil magistrate. But it would have given just 
 pain and offence to his father to have left him at a moment when 
 he conceived himself and his mansion-house in danger. Young 
 Hazlewood therefore gazed from a window with suppressed regret 
 and displeasure, until he heard the officer give the word of com- 
 mand — " From the right to the front, by files, m-a-rch. Leading 
 file, to the right wheel — Trot." — The whole party of soldiers then 
 getting into a sharp and uniform pace, were soon lost among the 
 trees, and the noise of the hoofs died speedily away in the 
 distance. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 31I 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 Wi' coulters and wi' forehammers * 
 
 We garr'd the bars bang merrily, 
 Until we came to the inner prison, 
 
 Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie. 
 
 Old Border Ballad. 
 
 We return to Portanferry, and to Bertram and his honest' 
 hearted friend, whom we left most innocent inhabitants of a place 
 built for the guilty. The slumbers of the farmer were as sound as 
 it was possible. 
 
 But Bertram's first heavy sleep passed away long before mid- 
 night, nor could he again recover that state of oblivion. Added to 
 the uncertain and uncomfortable state of his mind, his body felt 
 feverish and oppressed. This was chiefly owing to the close and 
 confined air of the small apartment in which they slept. After 
 enduring for some time the broiling and suffocating feeling 
 attendant upon such an atmosphere, he rose to endeavour to open 
 the window of the apartment, and thus to procure a change of air. 
 Alas ! the first trial reminded him that he was in gaol, and that the 
 building being contrived for security, not comfort, the means of 
 procuring fresh air were not left at the disposal of the wretched 
 inhabitants. 
 
 Disappointed in this attempt, he stood by the unmanageable 
 window for some time. Little Wasp, though oppressed with the 
 fatigue of his journey on the preceding day, crept out of bed after 
 his master, and stood by him rubbing his shaggy coat against his 
 legs, and expressing, by a murmuring sound, the delight which he 
 felt at being restored to him. Thus accompanied, and waiting 
 until the feverish feeling which at present agitated his blood should 
 subside into a desire for warmth and slumber, Bertram remained 
 for some time looking out upon the sea. 
 
 The tide was now nearly full, and dashed hoarse and near, below 
 the base of the building. Now and then a large wave reached 
 even the barrier or bulwark which defended the foundation of the 
 house, and was flung upon it with greater force and noise than 
 those which only broke upon the sand. Far in the distance, under 
 the indistinct light of a hazy and often over-clouded moon, the 
 ocean rolled its multitudinous complication of waves, crossing, 
 bursting, and mingling with each other. 
 
 " A wild and dim spectacle," said Bertram to himself, "like those 
 crossing tides of fate which have tossed me about the world from 
 
312 GUY MANNER1NG. 
 
 my infancy upwards ! When will this uncertainty cease, and how 
 soon shall I be permitted to look out for a tranquil home, where I 
 may cultivate in quiet, and without dread and perplexity, those arts 
 of peace from which my cares have been hitherto so forcibly 
 diverted ? The ear of Fancy, it is said, can discover the voice of 
 sea-nymphs and tritons amid the bursting murmurs of the ocean ; 
 would that I could do so, and that some siren or Proteus would 
 arise from these billows, to unriddle for me the strange maze of ' 
 fate in which I am so deeply entangled ! — Happy friend ! " he 
 said, looking at the bed where Dinmont had deposited his bulky 
 person, " thy cares are confined to the narrow round of a healthy 
 and thriving occupation ! Thou canst lay them aside at pleasure, 
 and enjoy the deep repose of body and mind which wholesome 
 labour has prepared for thee ! " 
 
 At this moment his reflections were broken by little Wasp, who, 
 attempting to spring up against the window, began to yelp and 
 bark most furiously. The sounds reached Dinmont's ears, but 
 without dissipating the illusion which had transported him from 
 this wretched apartment to the free air of his own green hills. 
 " Hoy, Yarrow, man ! — far yaud — far yaud ! " he muttered between 
 his teeth, imagining, doubtless, that he was calling to his sheep- 
 dog, and hounding him in shepherds' • phrase against some 
 intruders on the grazing. The continued barking of the terrier 
 within was answered by the angry challenge of the mastiff in the 
 court-yard, which had for a long time been silent, excepting only 
 an occasional short and deep note, uttered when the moon shone 
 suddenly from among the clouds. Now, his clamour was continued 
 and furious, and seemed to be excited by some disturbance distinct 
 from the barking of Wasp, which had first given him the alarm, 
 and which, with much trouble, his master had contrived to still 
 into an angry note of low growling. 
 
 At last Bertram, whose attention was now fully awakened, con- 
 ceived that he saw a boat upon the sea, and heard in good earnest 
 the sound of oars and of human voices mingling with the dash of 
 the billows. " Some benighted fisherman," he thought, " or 
 perhaps some of the desperate traders from the Isle of Man. 
 They are very hardy, however, to approach so near to the Custom- 
 house, where there must be sentinels. It is a large boat, like a 
 long-boat, and full of people ; perhaps it belongs to the reven»e 
 service." — Bertram was confirmed in this last opinion, by observing 
 that the boat made for a little quay which ran into the sea behind 
 the Custom-house, and, jumping ashore one after another, the 
 crew, to the number of twenty hands, glided secretly up a small 
 lane which divided the Custom-house from the Bridewell and dis- 
 
OUY MANNERING. 313 
 
 appeared from his sight, leaving only two persons to take care of 
 the boat. 
 
 The dash of these men's oars at first, and latterly the suppressed 
 sounds of their voices, had excited the wrath of the wakeful 
 sentinel in the court-yard, who now exalted his deep voice into such 
 a horrid and continuous din, that it awakened his brute master, as 
 savage a ban-dog as himself. His cry from a window, of " How 
 now, Tearum, what's the matter, sir ? — down, d — n ye ! down ! " 
 produced no abatement of Tearum's vociferation, which in part 
 prevented his master from hearing the sounds of alarm which his 
 ferocious vigilance was in the act of challenging. But the mate of 
 the two-legged Cerberus was gifted with sharper ears than her 
 husband. She also was now at the window — " B — t ye gae down 
 and let loose the dog,"' she said ; " they're sporting the door of the 
 Custom-house, and the auld sap at Hazlewood-House has ordered 
 off the guard. But ye hae nae mair heart than a cat." And down 
 the amazon sallied to perform the task herself, while her helpmate, 
 more jealous of insurrection within doors, than of storm from with- 
 out, went from cell to cell to see that the inhabitants of each were 
 carefully secured. 
 
 These latter sounds, with which we have made the reader 
 acquainted, had their origin in front of the house, and were con- 
 sequently imperfectly heard by Bertram, whose apartment, as we 
 have already noticed, looked from the back part of the building 
 upon the sea. He heard, however, a stir and tumult in the house, 
 which did not seem to accord with the stern seclusion of a prison 
 at the hour of midnight, and, connecting them with the arrival of 
 an armed boat at that dead hour, could not but suppose that some- 
 thing extraordinary was about to take place. In this belief he 
 shook Dinmont by the shoulder — " Eh! — Ay ! — Oh ! — Ailie, woman, 
 it's no time to get up yet," groaned the sleeping man of the 
 mountains. More roughly shaken, however, he gathered himself 
 up, shook his ears, and asked, " In the name of Providence, what's 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " That I can't tell you," replied Bertram ; " but either the place 
 is on fire, or some extraordinary thing is about to happen. Are 
 you not sensible of a smell of fire ? Do you not hear what a noise 
 there is of clashing doors within the house, and of hoarse voices, 
 murmurs, and distant shouts on the outside ? Upon my word, 
 I believe something very extraordinary has taken place — Get up, 
 for the love of Heaven, and let us be on our guard." 
 
 Dinmont rose at the idea of danger, as intrepid and undismayed 
 as any of his ancestors when the beacon-light was kindled. " Od, 
 Captain this is a queer place ! they winna let ye out in the day, 
 
314 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 and they winna let ye sleep in the night, Deil, but it wad break 
 my heart in a fortnight. But, Lord-sake, what a racket they're 
 making now! — Od, I wish we had some light. — Wasp — Wasp, 
 whisht, hinny — whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear what they're 
 doing — Deil's in ye, will ye whisht ? " 
 
 They sought in vain among the embers the means of lighting 
 their candle, and the noise without still continued. Dinmont in his 
 turn had recourse to the window — " Lordsake, Captain ! come here 
 — Od, they hae broken the Custom-house ! " 
 
 Bertram hastened to the window,, and plainly saw a miscellaneous 
 crowd of smugglers, and blackguards of different descriptions, 
 some carrying lighted torches, others bearing packages and 
 barrels down the lane to the boat that was lying at the quay, to 
 which two or three other fisher-boats were now brought round. 
 They were loading each of these in their turn, and one or two had 
 already put off to seaward. " This speaks for itself," said Bertram ; 
 " but I fear something worse has happened. Do you perceive a 
 strong smell of smoke, or is it my fancy ? " 
 
 " Fancy ? " answered Dinmont, " there's a reek like a killogie. 
 Od, if they burn the Custom-house, it will catch here, and we'll 
 iunt like a tar-barrel a' thegither. — Eh ! it wad be fearsome to be 
 burnt alive for naething, like as if ane had been a warlock ! — Mac- 
 Guffog, hear ye ! " — roaring at the top of his voice ; " an ye wad 
 ever hae a haill bane in your skin, let's out, man ! let's out ! " 
 
 The fire began now to rise high, and thick clouds of smoke 
 rolled past the window at which Bertram and Dinmont were 
 stationed. Sometimes, as the wind pleased, the dim shroud of 
 vapour hid everything from their sight ; sometimes a red glare 
 illuminated both land and sea, and shone full on the stern and 
 fierce figures, who, wild with ferocious activity, were engaged in 
 loading the boats. The fire was at length triumphant, and spouted 
 in jets of flame out at each window of the burning building, while 
 huge flakes of flaming materials came driving on the wind against 
 the adjoining prison, and rolling a dark canopy of smoke over all 
 the neighbourhood. The shouts of a furious mob resounded far 
 and wide ; for the smugglers, in their triumph, were joined by all 
 the rabble of the little town and neighbourhood, now aroused, and 
 in complete agitation, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour ; 
 some from interest in the free trade, and most from the general 
 love of mischief and tumult, natural to a vulgar populace. 
 
 Bertram began to be seriously anxious for their fate. There was 
 no stir in the house ; it seemed as if the jailor had deserted his 
 charge, and left the prison with its wretched inhabitants to the 
 mercy of the conflagration which was spreading towards them. In 
 
GUY MANNERING. 31S 
 
 the meantime a new and fierce attack was heard upon the outer 
 gate of the Correction-house, which, battered with sledge-hammers 
 and crows, was soon forced. The keeper, as great a coward as a 
 bully, with his more ferocious wife, had fled ; their servants readily 
 surrendered the keys. The liberated prisoners, celebrating their 
 deliverance with the wildest yells of joy, mingled among the mob 
 which had given them freedom. 
 
 In the midst of the confusion that ensued, three or four of the 
 principal smugglers hurried to the apartment of Bertram with 
 lighted torches, and armed with cutlasses and pistols. — " Der 
 Deyvil," said the leader, " here's our mark ! " and two of them 
 'seized on Bertram ; but one whispered in his ear, " Make no 
 resistance till you are in the street." The same individual found an 
 instant to say to Dinmont — " Follow your friend, and help when 
 you see the time come." 
 
 In the hurry of the moment, Dinmont obeyed and followed 
 close. The two smugglers dragged Bertram along the passage, 
 down stairs, through the court-yard, now illuminated by the glare 
 of fire, and into the narrow street to which the gate opened, where, 
 in the confusion, the gang were necessarily in some degree 
 separated from each other. A rapid noise, as of a body of horse 
 advancing, seemed to add to the disturbance. " Hagel and wetter! 
 what is that ? " said the leader ; " keep together, kinder, look to the 
 prisoner." — But in spite of his charge, the two who held Bertram 
 were the last of the party. 
 
 The sounds and signs of violence were heard in front. The 
 press became furiously agitated, while some endeavoured to defend 
 themselves, others to escape ; shots were fired, and the glittering 
 broadswords of the dragoons began to appear flashing above the 
 heads of the rioters. " Now," said the warning whisper of the man 
 who held Bertram's left arm, the same who had spoken before, 
 "shake off that fellow, and follow me." 
 
 Bertram, exerting his strength suddenly and effectually, easily 
 burst from the grasp of the man who held his collar on the right 
 side. The fellow attempted to draw a pistol, but was prostrated 
 by a blow of Dinmont's fist, which an ox could hardly have 
 received without the same humiliation. " Follow me quick," said 
 the friendly partisan, and dived through. a very narrow and dirty 
 lane which led from the main street. 
 
 No pursuit took place. The attention of the smugglers had been 
 otherwise and very disagreeably engaged by the sudden appearance 
 of Mac-Morlan and the party of horse. The loud manly voice of 
 the provincial magistrate, was heard proclaiming the riot act, and 
 charging " all those unlawfully assembled, to disperse at their own 
 
316 ItUY MANNERING. 
 
 proper peril." This interruption would indeed have happened in 
 time sufficient to have prevented the attempt, had not the magis- 
 trate received upon the road some false information, which led him 
 to think that the smugglers were to land at the Bay of Ellangowan. 
 Nearly two hours were lost in consequence of this false intelligence, 
 which it may be no lack of charity to suppose that Glossin, so 
 deeply interested in the issue of that night's daring attempt, had 
 contrived to throw in Mac-Morlan's way, availing himself of the 
 knowledge that the soldiers had left Hazlewood-House, which would 
 soon reach an ear so anxious as his. 
 
 In the mean time, Bertram followed his guide, and was in his turn 
 followed by Dinmont. The shouts of the mob, the trampling of the 
 horses, the dropping pistol-shots, sunk more and more faintly upon 
 their ears ; when at the end of the dark lane they found a post- 
 chaise with four horses. " Are you here, in God's name ? " said the 
 guide to the postilion who drove the leaders. 
 
 "Ay, troth am I," answered Jock Jabos, " and I wish I were ony 
 gate else." 
 
 " Open the carriage, then — You, gentlemen, get into it ; — in a 
 short time you'll be in a place of safety — and " (to Bertram) " re- 
 member your promise to the gipsy wife ! " 
 
 Bertram, resolving to be passive in the hands of a person who had 
 just rendered him such a distinguished piece of service, got into the 
 chaise as directed. Dinmont followed ; Wasp, who had kept close 
 by them, sprung in at the same time, and the carriage drove off very 
 fast. " Have a care o' me," said Dinmont, " but this is the queerest 
 thing yet ! — Od, I trust they'll no coup us — and then what's to come 
 o' Dumple? — I would rather be on his back than in the Deuke's 
 coach, God bless him." 
 
 Bertram observed, that they could not go at that rapid rate to 
 any very great distance without changing horses, and that they 
 might insist upon remaining till day-light at the first inn they 
 stopped at, or at least upon being made acquainted with the pur- 
 pose and termination of their journey, and Mr. Dinmont might 
 there give directions about his faithful horse, which would probably 
 be safe at the stables where he had left him. — " Aweel, aweel, e'en 
 sae be it for Dandie. — Od, if we were ance out o' this trindling kist 
 o' a thing, I am thinking they wad find it hard wark to gar us gang 
 ony gate but where we liked oursells." 
 
 While he thus spoke, the carriage making a sudden turn, showed 
 them, through the left window, the village at some distance, still 
 widely beaconed by the fire, which, having reached a storehouse 
 wherein spirits were deposited, now rose high into the air, a waver- 
 ing column of brilliant light. They had not long time to admire this 
 
GUY MANNERING. 317 
 
 spectacle, for another turn of the road carried them into a close lane 
 between plantations, through which the chaise proceeded in nearly- 
 total darkness, but with unabated speed. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter, 
 And aye the ale was growing better. 
 
 Tarn 0? Shanter. 
 
 We must now return to Woodbourne, which, it may be remem 
 bered, we left just after the Colonel had given some directions to 
 his confidential servant. When he returned, his absence of mind, 
 and an unusual expression of thought and anxiety upon his features, 
 struck the ladies whom he joined in the drawing-room. Mannering 
 was not, however, a man to be questioned, even by those whom he 
 most loved, upon the cause of the mental agitation which these 
 signs expressed. The hour of tea arrived, and the party were par- 
 taking of that refreshment in silence, when a carriage drove up to the 
 door, and the bell announced the arrival of a" visitor. "Surely," 
 said Mannering, " it is too soon by some hours." — 
 
 There was a short pause, when Barnes, opening the door of the 
 saloon, announced Mr. Pleydell. In marched the lawyer, whose 
 well-brushed black coat, and well-powdered wig, together with his 
 point ruffles, brown silk stockings, highly varnished shoes, and gold 
 buckles, exhibited the pains which the old gentleman had taken to 
 prepare his person for the ladies' society. He was welcomed by 
 Mannering with a hearty shake by the hand. " The very man I 
 wished to see at this moment ! " 
 
 " Yes," said the counsellor, "I told you I would take the first 
 opportunity ; so I have ventured to leave the Court for a week in 
 session time — no common sacrifice — but I had a notion I could be 
 useful, and I was to attend a proof here about the same time. But 
 will you not introduce me to the young ladies ? — Ah ! there is one 
 I should have known at once, from her family likeness ! Miss Lucy 
 Bertram, my love, I am most happy to see you." — And he folded 
 her in his arms, and gave her a hearty kiss on each side of the face, 
 to which Lucy submitted in blushing resignation. 
 
 " On n' arrete pas dans un si beau chemin" continued the gay 
 old gentleman, and, as the Colonel presented him to Julia, took the 
 same liberty with that fair lady's cheek. Julia laughed, coloured, 
 and disengaged herself. " I beg a thousand pardons," said the 
 lawyer, with a bow which was not at all professionally awkward ; 
 " age and old fashions give privileges, and I can hardly say whether 
 
318 OUY MANNERING 
 
 I am most sorry just now at being too well entitled to claim them 
 at all, or happy in having such an opportunity to exercise them so 
 agreeably." 
 
 " Upon my word, sir,'' said Miss Mannering, laughing, " if you 
 make such flattering apologies, we shall begin to doubt whether 
 we can admit you to shelter yourself under your alleged qualifi- 
 cations." 
 
 " I can assure you, Julia," said the Colonel, " you are perfectly 
 right ; my friend the counsellor is a dangerous person ; the last 
 time I had the pleasure of seeing him, he was closeted with a fair 
 lady, who had granted him a tete-a-tete at eight in the morning." 
 
 " Ay, but, Colonel," said the counsellor, " you should add, I was 
 more indebted to my chocolate than my charms, for so distin- 
 guished a favour, from a person of such propriety of demeanour as 
 Mrs. Rebecca." 
 
 " And that should remind me, Mr. Pleydell," said Julia, " to offer 
 you tea — that is, supposing you have dined." 
 
 " Anything, Miss Mannering, from your hands," answered the 
 gallant jurisconsult ; "yes, I have dined — that is to say, as people 
 dine at a Scotch inn." 
 
 " And that is indifferently enough," said the Colonel, with his 
 hand upon the bell-handle ; " give me leave to order something." 
 
 " Why, to say truth," replied Mr. Pleydell, " I had rather not ; I 
 have been inquiring into that matter, for you must know I stopped 
 an instant below to pull off my boot-hose, ' a world too wide for my 
 shrunk shanks,"' glancing down with some complacency upon 
 limbs which looked very well for his time of life, " and I had some 
 conversation with your Barnes, and a very intelligent person whom 
 I presume to be the housekeeper ; and it was settled among us — 
 tota repersfiecta — I beg Miss Mannering's pardon for my Latin — 
 that the old lady should add to your light family-supper the more 
 substantial refreshment of a brace of wild-ducks. I told her 
 (always under deep submission) my poor thoughts about the 
 sauce, which concurred exactly with her own ; and, if you please, 
 I would rather wait till they are ready before eating anything 
 solid." 
 
 "And we will anticipate our usual hour of supper," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " With all my heart," said Pleydell, " providing I do not lose the 
 ladies' company a moment the sooner. I am of counsel with my 
 old friend Burnet ; I love the coma, the supper of the ancients, the 
 pleasant meal and social glass that wash out of one's mind the 
 cobwebs that business or gloom have been spinning in our brains 
 all day." 
 
GUV MANNERING. 319 
 
 The vivacity of Mr. Pleydell's look and manner, and the quiet- 
 ness with which he made himself at home on the subject of his 
 little epicurean comforts, amused the ladies, but particularly Miss 
 Mannering, who immediately gave the counsellor a great deal of 
 flattering attention ; and more pretty things were said on both 
 sides during the service of the tea-table than we have leisure to 
 repeat. 
 
 As soon as this was over, Mannering led the counsellor by the 
 arm into a small study which opened from the saloon, and where, 
 according to the custom of the family, there were always lights and 
 a good fire in the evening. 
 
 " I see," said Mr. Pleydell, " you have got something to tell me 
 about the Ellangowan business — Is it terrestrial or celestial ? What 
 says my military Albumazar ? Have you calculated the course of 
 futurity ? have you consulted your Ephemerides, your Almochoden, 
 your Almuten ? " 
 
 " No, truly, counsellor,'' replied Mannering ; " you are the only 
 Ptolemy I intend to resort to upon the present occasion. — A second 
 Prospero, I have broken my staff, and drowned my book far beyond 
 plummet depth. But I have great news notwithstanding. Meg 
 Merrilies, our Egyptian sibyl, has appeared to the Dominie this 
 very day, and, as I conjecture, has frightened the honest man not a 
 little." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "Ay, and she has done me the honour to open a correspondence 
 with me, supposing me to be as deep in astrological mysteries as 
 when we first met. Here is her scroll, delivered to me by the 
 Dominie." 
 
 Pleydell put on his spectacles. " A vile greasy scrawl, indeed — 
 and the letters are uncial or semi-uncial, as somebody calls your 
 large text hand, and in size and perpendicularity resemble the ribs 
 of a roasted pig — I can hardly make it out." 
 
 " Read aloud," said Mannering. 
 
 " I will try," answered the lawyer. — " ' You are a good seeker, but 
 a bad finder j you set yourself to prop a falling house, but had agey 
 guess it would rise again. Lend your hand to the wark that's near, 
 as you lent your ee to the weird that was far. Have a carriage this 
 night by ten o'clock, at the end of the Crooked Dykes at Portanferry, 
 and let it bring the folk to Woodbourne that shall ask them, if they 
 be there in God's name.' — Stay, here follows some poetry — 
 
 ' Dark shall be light, 
 And wrong done to right, 
 When Bertram 's right and Bertram 's might 
 Shall meet on Ellangowan 's height.' 
 
320 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 A most mystic epistle truly, and closes in a vein of poetry worthy 
 of the Cumaean sibyl— And what have you done ? " 
 
 " Why," said Mannering, rather reluctantly, " I was loth to risk 
 any opportunity of throwing light on this business. The woman is 
 perhaps crazed, and these effusions may arise only from visions of 
 her imagination ; — but you were of opinion that she knew more of 
 that strange story than she ever told." 
 
 "And so," said Pleydell, "you sent a carriage to the place 
 named ? " 
 
 " You will laugh at me if I own I did," replied the Colonel. 
 
 " Who, I ? " replied the advocate. " No, truly ; I think it was the 
 wisest thing you could do." 
 
 " Yes," answered Mannering, well pleased to have escaped the 
 ridicule he apprehended ; "you know the worst is paying the chaise- 
 hire ; — I sent a post-chaise and four from Kippletringan, with 
 instructions corresponding to the letter. — The horses will have a 
 long and cold station on the out-post to-night if our intelligence be 
 false." 
 
 "Ay, but I think it will prove otherwise," said the lawyer. 
 " This woman has played a part till she believes it ; or, if she be a 
 thorough-paced impostor, without a single grain of self-delusion to 
 qualify her knavery, still she may think herself bound to act in 
 character- -this I know, that I could get nothing out of her by 
 the common modes of interrogation, and the wisest thing we can 
 do is to give her an opportunity of making the discovery her 
 own way. And now have you more to say, or shall we go to the 
 ladies?" 
 
 " Why, my mind is uncommonly agitated," answered the Colonel, 
 " and — but I really have no more to say — only I shall count the 
 minutes till the carriage returns ; but you cannot be expected to be 
 so anxious." 
 
 "Why, no — use is all in all," said the more experienced lawyer. 
 — " I am much interested, certainly, but I think I shall be able to 
 survive the interval, if the ladies will afford us some music." 
 
 " And with the assistance of the wild ducks by-and-by ? " sug- 
 gested Mannering. 
 
 " True, Colonel ; a lawyer's anxiety about the fate of the most 
 interesting cause has seldom spoiled either his sleep or digestion.* 
 And yet I shall be very eager to hear the rattle of these wheels on 
 their return, notwithstanding." 
 
 So saying, he rose and led the way into the next room, where 
 Miss Mannering, at his request, took her seat at the harpsichord. 
 Lucy Bertram, who sang her native melodies very sweetly, was 
 accompanied by her friend upon the instrument, and Julia after- 
 
GUY MANNERING. 321 
 
 wards performed some of Scarlatti's sonatas with great brilliancy. 
 The old lawyer, scraping a little upon the violoncello, and being a 
 member of the gentlemen's concert in Edinburgh, was so greatly 
 delighted with this mode of spending the evening, that I doubt if 
 he once thought of the wild-ducks until Barnes informed the com- 
 pany that supper was ready. 
 
 " Tell Mrs. Allan to have something in readiness," said the 
 Colonel — " I expect — that is, I hope — perhaps some company may 
 be here to-night ; and let the men sit up, and do not lock the upper 
 gate on the lawn until I desire you." 
 
 " Lord, sir," said Julia, " whom can you possibly expect 
 to-night ? " 
 
 "Why, some persons, strangers to me, talked of calling in the 
 evening on business," answered her father, not without embarrass- 
 ment, for he would have little brooked a disappointment which 
 might have thrown ridicule on his judgment ; " it is quite un- 
 certain." 
 
 " Well, we shall not pardon them for disturbing our party," said 
 Julia, " unless they bring as much good humour, and as susceptible 
 hearts, as my friend and admirer, for so he has dubbed himself, — 
 Mr. Pleydell." 
 
 " Ah, Miss Julia," said Pleydell, offering his arm with an air of 
 gallantry to conduct her into the eating-room, " the time has been 
 — when I returned from Utrecht in the year 1738 " 
 
 " Pray don't talk of it," answered the young lady — "we like you 
 much better as you are — Utrecht" in heaven's name ! — I dare say 
 you have spent all the intervening years in getting rid so completely 
 of the effects of your Dutch education." 
 
 " O forgive me, Miss Mannering," said the lawyer ; " the Dutch 
 are a much more accomplished people in point of gallantry than 
 their volatile neighbours are willing to admit. They are constant 
 as clock-work in their attentions." 
 
 " I- should tire of that," said Julia. 
 
 " Imperturbable in their good temper," continued Pleydell. 
 
 " Worse and worse," said the young lady. 
 
 " And then," said the old beau gargon, " although for six times 
 three hundred and sixty-five days, your swain has placed the 
 capuchin round your neck, and the stove under your feet, and 
 driven your little sledge upon the ice in winter, and your cabriole 
 through the dust in summer, you may dismiss him at once, without 
 reason or apology, upon the two thousand one hundred and 
 ninetieth day, which, according to my hasty calculation, and with- 
 out reckoning leap-years, will complete the cycle of the supposed 
 adoration, and that without your amiable feelings having the 
 
 x 
 
322 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 slightest occasion to be alarmed for the consequences to those of 
 Mynheer." 
 
 " Well," replied Julia, " that last is truly a Dutch recommenda- 
 tion, Mr. Pleydell — crystal arid hearts would lose all their merit in 
 the world, if it were not for their fragility." 
 
 " Why, upon that point of the argument, Miss Mannering, it is 
 as difficult to find a heart that will break, as a glass that will not ; 
 and for that reason I would press the value of mine own — were it 
 not that I see Mr. Sampson's eyes have been closed, and his 
 hands clasped for some time, attending the end of our conference 
 to begin the grace — And, to say the truth, the appearance of the 
 wild-ducks is very appetizing." So saying, the worthy counsellor 
 sat himself to table, and" laid aside his gallantry for awhile, to do 
 honour to the good things placed before him. Nothing further is 
 recorded of him for some time, excepting an observation that the 
 ducks were roasted to a single turn, and that Mrs. Allan's sauce, 
 of claret, lemon, and cayenne, was beyond praise. 
 
 " I see," said Miss Mannering, " I have a formidable rival in 
 Mr. Pleydell's favour, even on the very first night of his avowed 
 admiration." 
 
 " Pardon me, my fair lady," answered the counsellor, " your 
 avowed rigour alone has induced me to commit the solecism of 
 eating a good supper in your presence ; how shall I support your 
 frowns without reinforcing my strength ? Upon the same principle, 
 and no other, I will ask permission to drink wine with you." 
 
 " This is the fashion of Utrecht also, I suppose, Mr. Pleydell ? " 
 
 "Forgive me, madam," answered the counsellor; "the French 
 themselves, the patterns of all that is gallant, term their tavern- 
 keepers restaurateurs, alluding, doubtless, to the relief they afford 
 to the disconsolate lover, when bowed down to the earth by his 
 mistress's severity. My own case requires so much relief, that I 
 must trouble you for that other wing, Mr. Sampson, without pre- 
 judice to my afterwards applying to Miss Bertram for a tart ; — be 
 pleased to tear the wing, sir, instead of cutting it off — Mr. Barnes 
 will assist you, Mr. Sampson, — thank you, sir — and, Mr. Barnes, a 
 glass of ale, if you please." 
 
 While the old gentleman, pleased with Miss Mannering's liveli- 
 ness and attention, rattled away for her amusement and his own, 
 the impatience of Colonel Mannering began to exceed all bounds. 
 He declined sitting down at table, under the pretence that he 
 never ate supper ; and traversed the parlour, in which they were, 
 with hasty and impatient steps, now throwing up the window to 
 gaze upon the dark lawn, now listening for the remote sound of the 
 carriage advancing up the avenue. At length, in a feeling of 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 323 
 
 uncontrollable impatience, he left the room, took his hat and cloak, 
 and pursued his walk up the avenue, as if his so doing would 
 hasten the approach of those whom he desired to see. " I really 
 wish," said Miss Bertram, " Colonel Mannering would not venture 
 out after night-fall. You must have heard, Mr. Pleydell, what a 
 cruel fright we had ? " 
 
 " O, with the smugglers ? " replied the advocate — " they are old 
 friends of mine ; I was the means of bringing some of them to 
 justice a long time since, when sheriff of this county." 
 
 " And then the alarm we had immediately afterwards,'' added 
 Miss Bertram, " from the vengeance of one of these wretches." 
 
 " When young Hazlewood was hurt — I heard of that too." 
 
 " Imagine, my dear Mr. Pleydell," continued Lucy, " how much 
 Miss Mannering and I were alarmed, when a ruffian, equally 
 dreadful for his great strength, and the sternness of his features, 
 rushed out upon us ! " 
 
 "You must know, Mr. Pleydell," said Julia, unable to suppress 
 her resentment at this undesigned aspersion of her admirer, " that 
 young Hazlewood is so handsome in the eyes of the young ladies 
 of this country, that they think every person shocking who comes 
 near him." 
 
 " Oho ! " thought Pleydell, who was by profession an observer of 
 tones and gestures, "there's something wrong here between my 
 
 young friends. Well, Miss Mannering, I have not seen young 
 
 Hazlewood since he was a boy, so the ladies may be perfectly 
 right ; but I can assure you, in spite of your scorn, that if you 
 want to see handsome men you must go to Holland ; the prettiest 
 fellow I ever saw was a Dutchman, in spite of his being called 
 Vanbost, or Vanbuster, or some such barbarous name. He will 
 not be quite so handsome now, to be sure." 
 
 It was now Julia's turn to look a little out of countenance at the 
 chance hit of her learned admirer, but that instant the Colonel 
 entered the room. " I can hear nothing of them yet," he said ; 
 " still, however, we will not separate — Where is Dominie Sampson?" 
 
 " Here, honoured sir." 
 
 " What is that book you hold in your hand, Mr. Sampson ? " 
 
 " It's even the learned De Lyra, sir — I would crave his honour 
 Mr. Pleydell's judgment, always with his best leisure, to expound a 
 disputed passage." 
 
 "I am not in the vein, Mr. Sampson/' answered Pleydell ; 
 " here's metal more attractive — I do not despair to engage these 
 two young ladies in a glee or a catch, wherein I, even I myself, 
 will adventure myself for the bass part — Hang De Lyra, man ; 
 keep him for a fitter season." 
 
 x 3 
 
3»4 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 The disappointed Dominie shut his ponderous tome, much mar- 
 velling in his mind how a person possessed of the lawyer's erudition 
 could give his mind to these frivolous toys. But the counsellor, 
 indifferent to the high character for learning which he was trifling 
 away, filled himself a large glass of Burgundy, and after preluding 
 a little with a voice somewhat the worse for the wear, gave the ladies 
 a courageous invitation to join in " We be three poor Mariners," and 
 accomplished his own part therein with great eclat. 
 
 " Are you not withering your roses with sitting up so late, my 
 young ladies ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " Not a bit, sir," answered Julia ; " your friend, Mr. Pleydell, 
 threatens to become a pupil of Mr. Sampson's to-morrow, so we 
 must make the most of our conquest to-night." 
 
 This led to another musical trial of skill, and that to lively con- 
 versation. At length, when the solitary sound of one o'clock had 
 long since resounded on the ebon ear of night, and the next signal 
 of the advance of time was close approaching, Mannering, whose 
 impatience had long subsided into disappointment and despair, 
 looked at his watch, and said, " We must now give them up " — 
 when at that instant — But what then befell will require a separate 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Justice. This does indeed confirm each circumstance 
 
 The gipsy told ! — — 
 
 No orphan, nor without a friend art thou 
 / am thy father, here's thy mother, there 
 
 Thy uncle This thy first cousin, and these 
 
 Are all thy near relations ! The Critic. 
 
 As Mannering replaced his watch, he heard a distant and hollow 
 sound — " It is a carriage for certain — no, it is but the sound of the 
 wind among the leafless trees. Do come to the window, Mr. 
 Pleydell." The counsellor, who with his large silk handkerchief in 
 his hand, was expatiating away to Julia upon some subject which 
 he thought was interesting, obeyed the summons, first, however, 
 wrapping the handkerchief round his neck by way of precaution 
 against the cold air. The sound of wheels became now very per- 
 ceptible, and Pleydell, as if he had reserved all his curiosity till 
 that moment, ran out to the hall. The Colonel rung for Barnes to 
 desire that the persons who came in the carriage might be shown 
 into a separate room, being altogether uncertain whom it might 
 contain. It stopped, however, at the door, before his purpose 
 could be fully exolained. A moment after Mr. Pleydell called out, 
 
GUY MANNERING. 323 
 
 " Here's our Liddesdale friend, I protest, with a strapping young 
 fellow of the same calibre." His voice arrested Dinmont, who 
 recognised him with equal surprise and pleasure. " Od, if it's your 
 honour, we'll a' be as right and tight as thack and rape can 
 make us." * 
 
 But while the farmer stopped to make his bow, Bertram, dizzied 
 with the sudden glare of light, and bewildered with the circum- 
 stances of his situation, almost unconsciously entered the open 
 door of the parlour, and confronted the Colonel, who was just 
 advancing towards it. The strong light of the apartment left no 
 doubt of his identity, and he himself was as much confounded with 
 the appearance of those to whom he so unexpectedly presented 
 himself, as they were by the sight of so utterly unlooked-for an 
 object. It must be remembered that each individual present had 
 their own peculiar reasons for looking with terror upon what seemed 
 at first sight a spectral apparition. Mannering saw before him the 
 man whom he supposed he had killed in India ; Julia beheld her 
 lover in a most peculiar and hazardous situation ; and Lucy Bertram 
 at once knew the person who had fired upon young Hazlewood. 
 Bertram, who interpreted the fixed and motionless astonishment of 
 the Colonel into displeasure at his intrusion, hastened to say that 
 it was involuntary, since he had been hurried hither without 
 even knowing whither he was to be transported. 
 
 " Mr. Brown, I believe ! " said Colonel Mannering. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the young man, modestly, but with firmness, 
 " the same you knew in India ; and who ventures to hope, that 
 what you did then know of him is not such as should prevent his 
 requesting you would favour him with your attestation to his 
 character, as a gentleman and man of honour." 
 
 " Mr. Brown — I have been seldom — never — so much surprised — 
 certainly, sir, in whatever passed between us, you have a right to 
 command my favourable testimony." 
 
 At this critical moment entered the counsellor and Dinmont. 
 The former beheld, to his astonishment, the Colonel but just re- 
 covering from his first surprise, Lucy Bertram ready to faint with 
 terror, and Miss Mannering in an agony of doubt and apprehension, 
 which she in vain endeavoured to disguise or suppress. " What is 
 the meaning of all this ?" said he ; " has this young fellow brought 
 the Gorgon's head in his hand ? — let me look at him. — By heaven !" 
 he muttered to himself, " the very image of old Ellangowan ! — Yes, 
 the same manly form and handsome features, but with a world of 
 more intelligence in the face — Yes ! — the witch has kept her word." 
 Then instantly passing to Lucy, " Look at that man, Miss Bertram, 
 my dear ; have you never seen any one like him ?" 
 
326 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 Lucy had only ventured one glance at this object of terror, by 
 which, however, from his remarkable height and appearance, she at 
 once recognised the supposed assassin of young Hazlewood ; a con- 
 viction which excluded, of course, the more favourable association 
 of ideas which might have occurred on a closer view. — " Don't ask 
 me about him, sir," said she, turning away her eyes ; " send him 
 away, for heaven's sake ! we shall all be murdered !" 
 
 "Murdered! where's the poker?" said the advocate in some 
 alarm ; " but nonsense ! we are three men besides the servants, and 
 there is honest Liddesdale, worth half-a-dozen to boot — we have 
 the major vis upon our side — However, here, my friend Dandie — 
 Davie — what do they call you ? — keep between that fellow and us 
 for the protection of the ladies." 
 
 " Lord I Mr. Pleydell," said the astonished farmer, " that's Cap- 
 tain Brown ; d'ye no ken the Captain ?" 
 
 " Nay, if he's a friend of yours, we may be safe enough," answered 
 Pleydell ; " but keep near him*" 
 
 All this passed with such rapidity, that it was over before the 
 Dominie had recovered himself from a fit of absence, shut the 
 book which he had been studying in a corner, and advancing to 
 obtain a sight of the strangers, exclaimed at once, upon beholding 
 Bertram, " If the grave can give up the dead, that is my dear and 
 honoured master!" 
 
 "We're right after all, by Heaven! I was sure I was right," 
 said the lawyer ; " he is the very image of his father. — Come, 
 Colonel, what do you think of, that you do not bid your guest 
 welcome ? I think — I believe — I trust we're right — never saw such 
 a likeness — But patience — Dominie, say not a word. — Sit down, 
 young gentleman." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir ; if I am, as I understand, in Colonel Man- 
 nering's house, I should wish first to know if my accidental appear- 
 ance here gives offence, or if I am welcome ?" 
 
 Mannering instantly made an effort. " Welcome ? most certainly, 
 especially if you can point out how I can serve you. I believe I 
 may have some wrongs to repair towards you — I have often sus- 
 pected so ; but your sudden and unexpected appearance, connected 
 with painful recollections, prevented my saying at first, as I now 
 say, that whatever has procured me the honour of this visit, it is an 
 acceptable one." 
 
 Bertram bowed with an air of distant, yet civil acknowledgment, 
 to the grave courtesy of Mannering. 
 
 " Julia, my love, you had better retire. Mr. Brown, you will 
 excuse my daughter; there are circumstances which I perceive 
 rush upon her recollection." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 33' 
 
 Miss Manneiing rose and retired accordingly ; yet, as she passed 
 Bertram, could not suppress the words, " Infatuated ! a second 
 time!" but so pronounced as to be heard by him alone. Miss 
 Bertram accompanied her friend, much surprised, but without 
 venturing a second glance at the object of her terror. Some 
 mistake she saw there was, and was unwilling to increase it by 
 denouncing the stranger as an assassin. He was known, she saw, 
 to the Colonel, and received as a gentleman : certainly he either 
 was not the person she suspected, or Hazlewood was right in sup- 
 posing the shot accidental. 
 
 The remaining part of the company would have formed no bad 
 group for a skilful painter. Each was too much embarrassed with 
 his own sensations to observe those of the others. Bertram most 
 unexpectedly found himself in the house of one whom he was 
 alternately disposed to dislike as his personal enemy, and to re- 
 spect as the father of Julia ; Mannering was struggling between his 
 high sense of courtesy and hospitality, his joy at finding himself 
 relieved from the guilt of having shed life in a private quarrel, 
 and the former feelings of dislike and prejudice, which revived 
 in his haughty mind at the sight of the object against whom he 
 had entertained them ; Sampson, supporting his shaking limbs by 
 leaning on the back of a chair, fixed his eyes upon Bertram, with a 
 staring expression of nervous anxiety which convulsed his whole 
 visage ; Dinmont, enveloped in his loose shaggy great-coat, and 
 resembling a huge bear erect upon his hinder legs, stared on the 
 whole scene with great round eyes that witnessed his amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 The counsellor alone was in his element : shrewd, prompt, and 
 active, he already calculated the prospect of brilliant success in a 
 strange, eventful, and mysterious law-suit, and no young monarch, 
 flushed with hopes, and at the head of a gallant army, could ex- 
 perience more glee when taking the field on his first campaign. 
 He bustled about with great energy, and took the arrangement of 
 the whole explanation upon himself. 
 
 " Come, come, gentlemen, sit down ; this is all in my province : 
 you must let me arrange it for you. Sit down, my dear Colonel, 
 and let me manage ; sit down, Mr. Brown, aut quocimque alio 
 nomine vocaris — Dominie, take your seat — draw in your chair, 
 honest Liddesdale." 
 
 " I dinna ken, Mr. Pleydell," said Dinmont, looking at his dread- 
 nought-coat, then at the handsome furniture of the room, " I had 
 maybe better gang some gate else, and leave ye till your cracks — 
 I'm no just that weel put on." 
 
 The Colonel, who by this time recognised Dandie, immediately 
 
328 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 went up and bid him heartily welcome ; assuring him, that from 
 what he had seen of him in Edinburgh, he was sure his rough coat 
 and thick-soled boots would honour a royal drawing room. 
 
 " Na, na, Colonel, we're just plain up-the-country folk ; but nae 
 doubt I would fain hear o' ony pleasure that was gaun to happen 
 the Captain, and I'm sure a' will gae right if Mr. Pleydell will take 
 his bit job in hand." 
 
 "You're right, Dandie — spoke like a Hieland oracle — and now 
 be silent. — Well, you are all seated at last ; take a glass of wine till 
 I begin my catechism methodically. And now," turning to Ber- 
 tram, "my dear boy, do you know who or what you are ?" 
 
 In spite of his perplexity, the catechumen could not help laugh- 
 ing at this commencement, and answered, " Indeed, sir, I formerly 
 thought I did ; but I own late circumstances have made me some- 
 what uncertain." 
 
 " Then tell us what you formerly thought yourself." 
 
 " Why, I was in the habit of thinking and calling myself Van- 
 beest Brown, who served as a cadet or volunteer under Colonel 
 
 Mannering, when he commanded the regiment, in which 
 
 capacity I was not unknown to him." 
 
 " There," said the Colonel, " I can assure Mr. Brown of his 
 identity ; and add, what his modesty may have forgotten, that he 
 was distinguished as a young man of talent and spirit." 
 
 " So much the better, my dear sir," said Mr. Pleydell ; " but that 
 is to general character — Mr. Brown must tell us where he was 
 born." 
 
 " In Scotland, I believe, but the place uncertain." 
 
 "Where educated?" 
 
 " In Holland, certainly.'' 
 
 " Do you remember nothing of your early life before you left 
 Scotland ?" 
 
 " Very imperfectly ; yet I have a strong idea, perhaps more 
 deeply impressed upon me by subsequent hard usage, that I was 
 during my childhood the object of much solicitude and affection. 
 I have an indistinct remembrance of a good-looking man whom I 
 used to call papa, and of a lady who was infirm in health, and who, 
 I think, must have been my mother ; but it is an imperfect and 
 confused recollection. I remember, too, a tall, thin, kind-tempered 
 man in black, who used to teach me my letters and walk out with 
 me ; — and I think the very last time " 
 
 Here the Dominie could contain no longer. While every suc- 
 ceeding word served to prove that the child of his benefactor stood 
 before him, he had struggled with the utmost difficulty to suppress 
 his emotions; but, when the juvenile recollections of Bertram 
 
GUY MANNERING. 329 
 
 turned towards his tutor and his precepts, he was compelled to 
 give way to his feelings. He rose hastily from his chair, and with 
 clasped hands, trembling limbs, and streaming eyes, called out 
 aloud, " Harry Bertram 1— look at me — was I not the man?" 
 
 "Yes !" said Bertram, starting from his seat as if a sudden light 
 had burst in upon his mind, — "Yes — that was my name! — and that 
 is the voice and the figure of mf kind old master !" 
 
 The Dominie threw himself into his arms, pressed him a thou- 
 sand times to his bosom in convulsions of transport which shook 
 his whole frame, sobbed hysterically, and at length, in the emphatic 
 language of Scripture, lifted up his voice and wept aloud. Colonel 
 Mannering had recourse to his handkerchief ; Pleydell made wry 
 faces, and wiped the glasses of his spectacles ; and honest Din- 
 mont, after two loud blubbering explosions, exclaimed, " Deil's in 
 the man ! he garrM me do that 1 haena dune since my auld mither 
 died." 
 
 " Come, come," said the counsellor at last, " silence in the court. 
 — We have a clever party to contend with ; we must lose no time 
 in gathering our information — for anything I know, there may be 
 something to be done before day-break." 
 
 " I will order a horse to be saddled, if you please,' 7 said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " No, no, time enough — time enough — but come, Dominie ; I 
 have allowed you a competent space to express your feelings. I 
 must circumduce the term — you must let me proceed in my exami- 
 nation." 
 
 The Dominie was habitually obedient to any one who chose to 
 impose commands upon him ; he sunk back into his chair, spread 
 his checked handkerchief over his face, to serve, as I suppose, for 
 the Grecian painter's veil, and, from the action of his folded hands, 
 appeared for a time engaged in the act of mental thanksgiving. 
 He then raised his eyes over the screen, as if to be assured that 
 the pleasing apparition had not melted into air — then again sunk 
 them to resume his internal act of devotion, until he felt himself 
 compelled to give attention to the counsellor, from the interest 
 which his questions excited. 
 
 "And now," said Mr. Pleydell, after several minute inquiries 
 concerning his recollection of early events— "and now, Mr. Bertram, 
 for I think we ought in future to call you by your own proper name, 
 will you have the goodness to let us know every particular which 
 you can recollect concerning the mode of your leaving Scotland?" 
 
 " Indeed, sir, to say the truth, though the terrible outlines of that 
 day are strongly impressed upon my memory, yet somehow the 
 very terror which fixed them there has in a great measure con- 
 
33» GUY MANNERING: 
 
 founded and confused the details. I recollect, however, that I was 
 walking somewhere or other — in a wood, I think " 
 
 " O yes, it was in Warroch-wood, my dear,*' said the Dominie. 
 Hush, Mr. Sampson," said the lawyer. 
 
 " Yes, it was in a wood," continued Bertram, as long past and 
 confused ideas arranged themselves in his reviving recollection ; 
 " and some one was with me — this worthy and affectionate gentle- 
 man, I think." 
 
 " O, ay, ay, Harry, Lord bless thee — it was even I myself." 
 
 " Be silent, Dominie, and don't interrupt the evidence,'' said 
 Pleydell. — "And so, sir?" to Bertram. 
 
 " And so, sir," continued Bertram, " like one of the changes of a 
 dream, I thought I was on horseback before my guide." 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed Sampson, " never did I put my own limbs, 
 not to say thine, into such peril." 
 
 " On my word, this is intolerable ! — Look ye, Dominie, if you 
 speak another word till I give you leave, I will read three sentences 
 out of the Black Acts, whisk my cane round my head three times, 
 undo all the magic of this night's work, and conjure Harry Bertram 
 back again into Vanbeest Brown." 
 
 " Honoured and worthy sir," groaned out the Dominie, " I 
 humbly crave pardon ; — it was but verbum volans." 
 
 " Well, nolens volens, you must hold your tongue," said Pleydell. 
 
 " Pray, be silent, Mr. Sampson," said the Colonel ; " it is of 
 great consequence to your recovered friend, that you permit Mr. 
 Pleydell to proceed in his inquiries." 
 
 " I am mute," said the rebuked Dominie. 
 
 " On a sudden," continued Bertram, " two or three men sprung 
 out upon us, and we were pulled from horseback. I have little re- 
 collection of anything else, but that I tried to escape in the midst of 
 a desperate scuffle, and fell into the arms of a very tall woman who 
 started from the bushes, and protected me for some time ;— the 
 rest is all confusion and dread — a dim recollection of a sea-beach 
 and a cave, and of some strong potion which lulled me to sleep for 
 a length of time. In short, it is all a blank in my memory, until 
 I recollect myself first an ill-used and half-starved cabin-boy 
 aboard a sloop, and then a school-boy in Holland, under the 
 protection of an old merchant, who had taken some fancy for 
 me." 
 
 " And what account," said Mr. Pleydell, " did your guardian give 
 of your parentage ? " 
 
 " A very brief one," answered Bertram, " and a charge to inquire 
 no farther. I was given to understand, that my father was con 
 cerned in the smuggling trade carried on on the eastern coast of 
 
GUY MANNERING. 331 
 
 Scotland, and was killed in a skirmish with the revenue officers ; 
 that his correspondents in Holland had a vessel on the coast at the 
 time, part of the crew of which were engaged in the affair, and that 
 they brought me off after it was over, from a motive of compassion, 
 as I was left destitute by my father's death. As I grew older there 
 was much of this story seemed inconsistent with my own recollec- 
 tions, but what could I do ? I had no means of ascertaining my 
 doubts, nor a single friend with whom I could communicate or 
 canvass them. The rest of my story is known to Colonel Man- 
 nering : I went out to India to be a clerk in a Dutch house ; their 
 affairs fell into confusion — I betook myself to the military profes- 
 sion, and, I trust, as yet I have not disgraced it." 
 
 "Thou art a fine young fellow, I'll be bound for thee," said 
 Pleydell ; " and since you have wanted a father so long, I wish 
 from my heart I could claim the paternity myself. But this affair 
 of young Hazlewood " 
 
 " Was merely accidental," said Bertram. " I was travelling in 
 Scotland for pleasure, and after a week's residence with my friend 
 Mr. Dinmont, with whom I had the good fortune to form an acci- 
 dental acquaintance "- — - 
 
 " It was my gude fortune that," said Dinmont ; " od, my brains 
 wad hae been knockit out by twa blackguards, if it hadna been for 
 his four quarters." 
 
 " Shortly after we parted at the town of , I lost my baggage 
 
 by thieves, and it was while residing at Kippletringan that I acci- 
 dentally met the young gentleman. As I was approaching to pay 
 my respects to Miss Mannering, whom I had known in India, Mr. 
 Hazlewood, conceiving my appearance none of the most respect- 
 able, commanded me rather haughtily to stand back, and so gave 
 occasion to the fray in which I had the misfortune to be the acci- 
 dental means of wounding him. — And now, sir, that I have an- 
 swered all your questions " 
 
 " No, no, not quite all," said Pleydell, winking sagaciously ; 
 " there are some interrogatories which I shall delay till to-morrow, 
 for it is time, I believe, to close the sederunt for this night, or rather 
 morning." 
 
 " Well, then, sir," said the young man, " to vary the phrase, since 
 I have answered all the questions which you have chosen to ask 
 to-night, will you be so good as to tell me who you are that take 
 such interest in my affairs, and whom you take me to be, since my 
 arrival has occasioned such commotion ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, for myself," replied the counsellor, " I am Paulus 
 Pleydell, an advocate at the Scottish bar ; and for you, it is not 
 easy to say distinctly who you are at present ; but I trust in a short 
 
332 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 time to hail you by the title of Henry Bertram, Esq., representative 
 of one of the oldest families in Scotland, and heir of tailzie and 
 provision to the estate of Ellangowan. — Ay," continued he, shutting 
 his eyes and speaking to himself, " we must pass over his father, 
 and serve him heir to his grandfather Lewis, the entailer — the only 
 wise man of his family that I ever heard of." 
 
 They had now risen to retire to their apartments for the night, 
 when Colonel Mannering walked up to Bertram, as he stood 
 astonished at the counsellor's words. " I give you joy," he said, 
 " of the prospects which fate has opened before you. I was an 
 early friend of your father, and chanced to be in the house of Ellan- 
 gowan as unexpectedly as you are now in mine, upon the very 
 night in which you were born. I little knew this circumstance 
 when — but I trust unkindness will be forgotten between us. 
 Believe me, your appearance here, as Mr. Brown, alive and well, 
 has relieved me from most painful sensations ; and your right to 
 the name of an old friend renders your presence, as Mr. Bertram, 
 doubly welcome." 
 
 "And my parents ?" said Bertram. 
 
 " Are both no more — and the family property has been sold, but 
 I trust may be recovered. Whatever is wanted to make your right 
 effectual, I shall be most happy to supply." 
 
 " Nay, you may leave all that to me," said the counsellor ; " 'tis 
 my vocation, Hal, I shall make money of it." 
 
 " I'm sure it's no for the like o' me," observed Dinmont, " to 
 speak to you gentlefolks ; but if siller would help on the Captain's 
 plea, and they say nae plea gangs on weel without it " 
 
 " Except on Saturday night," said Pleydell. 
 
 " Ay, but when your honour wadna take your fee, ye wadna hae 
 the cause neither ; sae I'll ne'er fash you on a Saturday at e'en 
 again — But I was saying, there's some siller in the spleuchan* 
 that's like the Captain's ain, for we've aye counted it such, baith 
 Ailie and me." 
 
 " No, no, Liddesdale — no occasion, no occasion whatever — keep 
 thy cash to stock thy farm." 
 
 " To stock my farm ? Mr. Pleydell, your honour kens mony 
 things, but ye dinna ken the farm o' Charlies-hope — its sae weel 
 stockit already, that we sell maybe sax hundred pounds off it ilka 
 year, flesh and fell thegither — na, na." 
 
 " Can't you take another, then ? " 
 
 " I dinna ken — the Deuke's no that fond o' led farms, and he 
 canna bide to put away the auld tenantry ; and then I wadna like 
 mysell to gang about whistling* and raising the rent on my 
 neighbours." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 333 
 
 " What, not upon thy neighbour at Dawston — Devilstone — how 
 d'ye call the place ? " 
 
 "What, on Jock o' Dawston? hout na— he's a camsteary* 
 cheild, and fasheous* about marches, and we've had some bits 
 o' splores thegither ; but deil o' me if I wad wrang Jock o' Dawston 
 neither." 
 
 " Thou art an honest fellow," said the lawyer ; "get thee to bed. 
 Thou wilt sleep sounder, I warrant thee, than many a man that 
 throws off an embroidered coat, and puts on a laced nightcap. — 
 Colonel, I see you are busy with our Enfant trouvi. But Barnes 
 must give me a summons of wakening at seven to-morrow morning, 
 for my servant's a sleepy-headed fellow, and I dare say my clerk, 
 Driver, has had Clarence's fate, and is drowned by this time in a 
 butt of your ale ; for Mrs. Allan promised to make him comfort- 
 able, and she'll soon discover what he expects from that engage- 
 ment. Good-night, Colonel — good-night, Dominie Sampson — 
 good-night, Dinmont the downright — good-night, last of all, to the 
 new-found representative of the Bertrams, and the Mac-Dinga- 
 waies, the Knarths, the Arths, the Godfreys, the Denises, and the 
 Rolands, and last and dearest title, heir of tailzie and provision of 
 the lands and barony of Ellangowan, under the settlement of Lewis 
 Bertram, Esq., whose representative you are." 
 
 And so saying, the old gentleman took his candle and left the 
 room ; and the company dispersed, after the Dominie had once 
 more hugged and embraced his " little Harry Bertram," as he 
 continued to call the young soldier of six feet high. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 My imagination 
 
 Carries no favour in it but Bertram's ; 
 I am undone ; there is no living, none, 
 
 If Bertram be away. 
 
 All's Well that Ends Well. 
 
 At the hour which he had appointed the preceding evening, the 
 indefatigable lawyer was seated by a good fire and a pair of wax 
 candles, with a velvet cap on his head and a quilted silk night- 
 gown on his person, busy arranging his memoranda of proofs and 
 indications concerning the murder of Frank Kennedy. An express 
 had also been dispatched to Mr. Mac-Morlan, requesting his 
 attendance at Woodbourne as soon as possible, on business of 
 importance. Dinmont, fatigued with the events of the evening 
 before, and finding the accommodations of Woodbourne much 
 
334 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 preferable to those of Mac-Guffog, was in no hurry to rise. The 
 impatience of Bertram might have put him earlier in motion, but 
 Colonel Mannering had intimated an intention to visit him in his 
 apartment in the morning, and he did not choose to leave it. 
 Before this interview he had dressed himself, Barnes having, by 
 his master's orders, supplied him with every accommodation of 
 linen, &c, and he now anxiously waited the promised visit of his 
 landlord. 
 
 In a short time a gentle tap announced the Colonel, with whom 
 Bertram held a long and satisfactory conversation. Each, how- 
 ever, concealed from the other one circumstance. Mannering 
 could not bring himself to acknowledge the astrological prediction ; 
 and Bertram was, from motives which may be easily conceived, 
 silent respecting his love for Julia. In other respects, their inter- 
 course was frank, and grateful to both, and had latterly, upon the 
 Colonel's part, even an approach to cordiality. Bertram carefully 
 measured his own conduct by that of his host, and seemed rather 
 to receive his offered kindness with gratitude and pleasure, than to 
 press for it with solicitation. 
 
 Miss Bertram was in the breakfast parlour when Sampson 
 shuffled in, his face all radiant with smiles ; a circumstance so 
 uncommon, that Lucy's first idea was, that somebody had been 
 bantering him with an imposition which had thrown him into this 
 ecstasy. Having sate for some time, rolling his eyes and gaping 
 with his mouth like the great wooden head at Merlin's exhibition, 
 he at length began — "And what do you think of him, Miss Lucy?" 
 
 " Think of whom, Mr. Sampson ? " asked the young lady. 
 
 " Of Har — no — of him that you know about ? " again demanded 
 the Dominie. 
 
 " That I know about ? " replied Lucy, totally at a loss to com- 
 prehend his meaning. 
 
 " Yes, the stranger, you know, that came last evening in the post 
 vehicle — he who shot young Hazlewood — ha ! ha ! ho ! " burst 
 forth the Dominie, with a laugh that sounded like neighing. 
 
 "Indeed, Mr. Sampson," said his pupil, "you have chosen a 
 strange subject for mirth— I think nothing about the man, only I 
 hope the outrage was accidental, and that we need not fear a 
 repetition of it." 
 
 " Accidental ! ho ! ho ! ha ! " again whinnied Sampson. 
 
 " Really, Mr. Sampson," said Lucy, somewhat piqued, " you are 
 unusually gay this morning." 
 
 " Yes, of a surety I am ! ha ! ha ! ho ! face-ti-ous — ho ! ho ! 
 hat" 
 
 " So unusually facetious, my dear sir," pursued the young lady, 
 
GUV MANNERING. 335 
 
 "that I would wish rather to know the meaning of your mirth, than 
 to be amused with its' effects only." 
 
 " You shall know it, Miss Lucy," replied poor Abel — " Do you 
 remember your brother ? " 
 
 " Good God ! how can you ask me ? — no one knows better than 
 you he was lost the very day I was born." 
 
 " Very true, very true," answered the Dominie, saddening at the 
 recollection ; " I was strangely oblivious — ay, ay — too true — But 
 you remember your worthy father ? " 
 
 " How should you doubt it, Mr. Sampson ? it is not so many 
 weeks since " 
 
 " True, true — ay, too true," replied the Dominie, his Houyhnhnm 
 laugh sinking into a hysterical giggle — " I will be facetious no 
 more under these remembrances — But look at that young man ! " 
 
 Bertram at this instant entered the room. " Yes, look at him 
 well — he is your father's living image ; and as God has deprived 
 you of your dear parents — O my children, love one another ! " 
 
 " It is indeed my father's face and form," said Lucy, turning 
 very pale. Bertram ran to support her — the Dominie to fetch 
 water to throw upon her face — (which in his haste he took from 
 the boiling tea-urn), when fortunately her colour returning rapidly, 
 saved her from the application of this ill-judged remedy. " I 
 conjure you to tell me, Mr. Sampson," she said, in an interrupted 
 yet solemn voice, "is this my brother?" 
 
 " It is ! it is, Miss Lucy ! — it is little Harry Bertram, as sure as 
 God's sun is in that Heaven \" 
 
 *' And this is my sister ? " said Bertram, giving way to all that 
 family affection, which had so long slumbered in his bosom for 
 "want of an object to expand itself upon — 
 
 " It is ! — it is ! — it is Miss Lucy Bertram!" ejaculated Sampson, 
 "whom by' my poor aid you will find perfect in the tongues of 
 France and Italy, and even of Spain — in reading and writing her 
 vernacular tongue, and in arithmetic and book-keeping by double 
 and single entry — I say nothing of her talents of shaping, and 
 hemming, and governing a household, which, to give every one 
 their due, she acquired not from me, but from the housekeeper ; — 
 nor do I take merit for her performance upon stringed instruments, 
 whereunto the instructions of an honourable young lady of virtue 
 and modesty, and very facetious withal — Miss Julia Mannering — 
 hath not meanly contributed — Suum cuique tribuito? 
 
 " You, then," said Bertram to his sister, " are all that remains to 
 me ! — Last night, but more fully this morning, Colonel Mannering 
 gave me an account of our family misfortunes, though without 
 saying I should find my sister here." 
 
336 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " That," said Lucy, " he left to this gentleman to tell you, one of 
 the kindest and most faithful of friends, who soothed my father's 
 long sickness, witnessed his dying moments, and amid the heaviest 
 clouds of fortune would not desert his orphan." 
 
 " God bless him for it !" said Bertram, shaking the Dominie's 
 hand ; " he deserves the love with which I have always regarded 
 even that dim and imperfect shadow of his memory which my 
 childhood retained." 
 
 " And God bless you both, my dear children !" said Sampson : 
 " if it had not been for your sake, I would have been contented 
 (had Heaven's pleasure so been) to lay my head upon the turf 
 beside my patron." 
 
 " But I trust," said Bertram, " I am encouraged to hope, we shall 
 all see better days. All our wrongs shall be redressed, since 
 Heaven has sent me means and friends to assert my right." 
 
 " Friends indeed !" echoed the Dominie, " and sent, as you truly 
 say, by Him, to whom I early taught you to look up as the source 
 of all that is good. There is the great Colonel Mannering from 
 the Eastern Indies, a man of war from his birth upwards, but who 
 is not the less a man of great erudition, considering his imperfect 
 opportunities ; and there is, moreover, the great advocate, Mr. 
 Pleydell, who is also a man of great erudition, but who descendeth 
 to trifles unbeseeming thereof; and there is Mr. Andrew Dinmont, 
 whom I do not understand to have possession of much erudition, 
 but who, like the patriarchs of old, is cunning in that which 
 belongeth to flocks and herds. — Lastly, there is even I myself, 
 whose opportunities of collecting erudition, as they have been 
 greater than those of the aforesaid valuable persons, have not, 
 if it becomes me so to speak, been pretermitted by me, in so far as 
 my poor faculties have enabled me to profit by them. Of a surety, 
 little Harry, we must speedily resume our studies. I will begin 
 from the foundation — yes, I will reform your education upward 
 from the true knowledge of English grammar, even to that of the 
 Hebrew or Chaldaic tongue." 
 
 The reader may observe, that upon this occasion Sampson was 
 infinitely more profuse of words than he had hitherto exhibited 
 himself. The reason was, that in recovering his pupil, his mind 
 went instantly back to their original connexion, and he had, in his 
 confusion of ideas, the strongest desire in the world to resume 
 spelling lessons and half-text with young Bertram. This was the 
 more ridiculous, as towards Lucy he assumed no such powers of 
 tuition. But she had grown up under his eye, and had been 
 gradually emancipated from his government by increase in years 
 and knowledge, and a latent sense of his own inferior tact in 
 
GU\ MANNERING. 337 
 
 manners, whereas his first ideas went to take up Harry pretty 
 nearly where he had left him. From the same feelings of reviving 
 authority, he indulged himself in what was to him a profusion of 
 language ; and as people seldom speak more than usual without 
 exposing themselves, he gave those whom he addressed plainly to 
 understand, that while he deferred implicitly to the opinions and 
 commands, if they chose to impose them, of almost every one 
 whom he met with, it was under an internal conviction, that in the 
 article of eru-di-ti-on, as he usually pronounced the word, he was 
 infinitely superior to them all put together. At present, however, 
 this intimation fell upon heedless ears, for the brother and sister 
 were too deeply engaged in asking and receiving intelligence con- 
 cerning their former fortunes, to attend much to the worthy 
 Dominie. 
 
 When Colonel Mannering left Bertram, he went to Julia's dress- 
 ing-room, and dismissed her attendant. " My dear sir," she said 
 as he entered, " you have forgot our vigils last night, and have hardly 
 allowed me time to comb my hair, although you must be sensible 
 how it stood on end at the various wonders which took place." 
 
 " It is with the inside of your head that I have some business at 
 present, Julia ; I will return the outside to the care of your Mrs. 
 Mincing in a few minutes." 
 
 " Lord, papa," replied Miss Mannering, " think how entangled 
 all my ideas are, and you to propose to comb them out in a few 
 minutes ! If Mincing were to do so in her department, she would 
 tear half the hair out of my head." 
 
 " Well then, tell me," said the Colonel, " where the entanglement 
 lies, which I will try to extricate with due gentleness." 
 
 " O, everywhere," said the young lady — " the whole is a wild 
 dream." 
 
 " Well then, I will try to unriddle it."- — He gave a brief sketch 
 of the fate and prospects of Bertram, to which Julia listened with 
 an interest which she in vain endeavoured to disguise — "Well," 
 concluded her father, " are your ideas on the subject more 
 luminous ? " 
 
 " More confused than ever, my dear sir," said Julia. — " Here is 
 this young man come from India, after he had been supposed 
 dead, like Aboulfouaris the great voyager to his sister Canzade and 
 his provident brother Hour. I am wrong in the story, I believe — > 
 Canzade was his wife — but Lucy may represent the one, and the 
 Dominie the other. And then this lively crackbrained Scotch 
 lawyer appears like a pantomime at the end of a tragedy — And then 
 how delightful it will be if Lucy gets back her fortune ! " 
 
 " Now, I think," said the Colonel, " that the most mysterious 
 
 Y 
 
338 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 part of the business is, that Miss Julia Mannering, who must have 
 known her father's anxiety about the fate of this young man Brown, 
 or Bertram as we must now call him, should have met him when 
 Hazlewood's accident took place, and never once mentioned to her 
 father a. word of the matter, but suffered the search to proceed 
 against this young gentleman as a suspicious character and 
 assassin." 
 
 Julia, much of whose courage had been hastily assumed to meet 
 the interview with her father, was now unable to rally herself ; she 
 hung down her head in silence, after in vain attempting to utter a 
 denial that she recollected Brown when she met him. 
 
 " No answer ! — Well, Julia," continued her father, gravely but 
 kindly, " allow me to ask you, Is this the only time you have seen 
 Brown since his return from India? — Still no answer. I must then 
 naturally suppose that it is not the first time ? — Still no reply. 
 Julia Mannering, will you have the kindness to answer me ? Was 
 it this young man who came under your window and conversed 
 with you during your residence at Mervyn-Hall? Julia, I com- 
 mand — I entreat you to be candid." 
 
 Miss Mannering raised her head. " I have been, sir — I believe 
 I am still very foolish ; — and it is perhaps more hard upon me 
 that I must meet this gentleman, who has been, though not the 
 cause entirely, yet the accomplice of my folly, in your presence." — 
 Here she made a full stop. 
 
 " I am to understand then," said Mannering, " that this was the 
 author of the serenade at Mervyn-Hall?" 
 
 There was something in this allusive change of epithet, that 
 gave Julia a little more courage — " He was indeed, sir; and if I am 
 very wrong, as I have often thought, I have some apology." 
 
 " And what is that ?" answered the Colonel, speaking quick, and 
 with something of harshness. 
 
 " I will not venture to name it, sir — but" — She opened a small 
 cabinet, and put some letters into his hands ; " I will give you 
 these, that you may see how this intimacy began, and by whom it 
 was encouraged." 
 
 Mannering took the packet to the window — his pride forbade a 
 more distant retreat — he glanced at some passages of the letters 
 with an unsteady eye and an agitated mind— his stoicism, how- 
 ever, came in time to his aid ; that philosophy, which, rooted in 
 pride, yet frequently bears the fruits of virtue. He returned to- 
 wards his daughter with as firm an air as his feelings permitted 
 him to assume. 
 
 " There is great apology for you, Julia, as far as I can judge 
 from a glance at these letters — you have obeyed at least one 
 
GUY MANNERING. 339 
 
 parent. Let us adopt a Scotch proverb the Dominie quoted the 
 other day — ' Let bygones be bygones, and fair play for the future.' 
 ■ — I will never upbraid you with your past want of confidence — do 
 you judge of my future intentions by my actions, of which hitherto 
 you have surely had no reason to complain. Keep these letters — 
 they were never intended for my eye, and I would not willingly 
 read more of them than I have done, at your desire and for your 
 exculpation. And now-are we friends ? or rather, do you under- 
 stand me?" 
 
 " O my dear, generous father,'' said Julia, throwing herself into 
 his arms, " why have I ever for an instant misunderstood you ?" 
 
 " No more of that, Julia," said the Colonel : " we have both been 
 to blame. He that is too proud to vindicate the affection and 
 confidence which he conceives should be given without solicita- 
 tion, must meet much, and perhaps deserved disappointment. It 
 is enough that one dearest and most regretted member of my 
 family has gone to the grave without knowing me ; let me not lose 
 the confidence of a child, who ought to love me if she really loves 
 herself." 
 
 " O ! no danger — no fear!" answered Julia; "let me but have 
 your approbation and my own, and there is no rule you can pre- 
 scribe so severe that I will not follow." 
 
 " Well, my love," kissing her forehead, " I trust we shall not 
 call upon you for anything too heroic. With respect to this young 
 gentleman's addresses, I expect in the first place that all clandes- 
 tine correspondence — which no young woman can entertain for a 
 moment without lessening herself in her own eyes, and in those of 
 her lover — I request, I say, that clandestine correspondence of 
 every kind may be given up, and that you will refer Mr. Bertram 
 to me for the reason. You will naturally wish to know what is to 
 be the issue of such a reference. In the first place, I desire to 
 observe this young gentleman's character more closely than cir- 
 cumstances, and perhaps my own prejudices, have permitted 
 formerly — I should also be glad to see his birth established. Not 
 that I am anxious about his getting the estate of Ellangowan, 
 though such a subject is held in absolute indifference nowhere 
 except in a novel ; but certainly Henry Bertram, heir of Ellan- 
 gowan, whether possessed of the property of his ancestors or not, 
 is a very different person from Vanbeest Brown, the son of nobody 
 at all. His fathers, Mr. Pleydell tells me, are distinguished in 
 history as following the banners of their native princes, while our 
 own fought at Cressy and Poictiers. In short, I neither give nor 
 withhold my approbation, but I expect you will redeem past errors ; 
 and as you can now unfortunately have recourse only to one parent, 
 
 y 2 
 
340 - GUY MANNERING. 
 
 that you will show the duty of a child, by reposing that confidence 
 in me, which I will say my inclination to make you happy renders 
 a filial debt upon your part." 
 
 The first part of this speech affected Julia a good deal; the 
 comparative merit of the ancestors of the Bertrams and Manner- 
 ings excited a secret smile ; but" the conclusion was such as to 
 soften a heart peculiarly open to the feelings of generosity. " No, 
 my dear sir," she said, extending her hand, " receive my faith, that 
 from this moment you shall be the first person consulted respect- 
 ing what shall pass in future between Brown — I mean Bertram — 
 and me ; and that no engagement shall be undertaken by me 
 excepting what you shall immediately know and approve of. May 
 I ask — if Mr. Bertram is to continue a guest at Woodbourne ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the Colonel, " while his affairs render it 
 advisable." 
 
 " Then, sir, you must be sensible, considering what is already 
 past, that he will expect some reason for my withdrawing — I 
 believe I must say the encouragement, which he may think I have 
 given." 
 
 " I expect, Julia,'' answered Mannering, " that he will respect my 
 roof, and entertain some sense perhaps of the services I am de- 
 sirous to render him, and so will not insist upon any course of con- 
 duct of which I might have reason to complain ; and I expect of 
 you, that you will make him sensible of what is due to both." 
 
 " Then, sir, I understand you, and you shall be implicitly 
 obeyed." 
 
 " Thank you, my love ; my anxiety " (kissing her) " is on your 
 account. — Now wipe these witnesses from your eyes, and so to 
 breakfast." 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 And, Sheriff, I will engage my word to you, 
 That I will by to-morrow dinner time, 
 Send him to answer thee, or any man, 
 For any thing he shall be charged withal. 
 
 First Part of Henry IV. 
 
 When the several by-plays, as they may be termed, had taktn 
 place among the individuals of the Woodbourne family, as we have 
 intimated in the preceding chapter, the breakfast party at length 
 assembled, Dandie excepted, who had consulted his taste in viands, 
 and perhaps in society, by partaking of a cup of tea with Mrs. 
 Allan, just laced with two tea-spoonfuls of Cogniac, and reinforced 
 
GOV MANNERING. 341 
 
 with various slices from a huge round of beef. He had a kind of 
 feeling that he could eat twice as much and speak twice as much, 
 with this good dame and Barnes, as with the grand folk in the par- 
 lour. Indeed, the meal of this less distinguished party was much 
 more mirthful than that in the higher circle, where there was an 
 obvious air of constraint on the greater part of the assistants. Julia 
 dared not raise her voice in asking Bertram if he chose another 
 cup of tea. Bertram felt embarrassed while eating his toast and 
 butter under the eye of Mannering. Lucy, while she indulged to 
 the uttermost her affection for her recovered brother, began to think 
 of the quarrel betwixt him and Hazlewood. The Colonel felt the 
 painful anxiety natural to a proud mind, when it deems its slightest, 
 action subject for a moment to the watchful construction of others. 
 The lawyer, while sedulously buttering his roll, had an aspect of 
 unwonted gravity, arising, perhaps, from the severity of his morn- 
 ing studies. As for the Dominie, his state of mind was ecstatic ! — 
 He looked at Bertram — he looked at Lucy — he whimpered — he 
 sniggled — he grinned — he committed all manner of solecisms in 
 gpint of form — poured the whole cream (no unlucky mistake) upon 
 the plate of porridge which was his own usual breakfast — threw the 
 slops of what he called his " crowning dish of tea" into the sugar- 
 dish instead of the slop-basin, and concluded with spilling the 
 scalding liquor upon old Plato, the Colonel's favourite spaniel, who 
 received the libation with a howl that did little honour to his 
 philosophy. 
 
 The Colonel's equanimity was rather shaken by this last blunder. 
 " Upon my word, my good friend, Mr. Sampson, you forget the 
 difference between Plato and Zenocrates." 
 
 " The former was chief of the Academics, the latter of the 
 Stoics," said the Dominie, with some scorn of the supposition. 
 
 " Yes, my dear sir, but it was Zenocrates, not Plato, who denied 
 that pain was an evil." 
 
 " I should have thought," said Pleydell, " that very respectable 
 quadruped, which is just now limping out of the room upon three 
 of his four legs, was rather of the Cynic school." 
 
 " Very well hit off But here comes an answer from Mac- 
 
 Morlan." 
 
 It was unfavourable. Mrs. Mac-Morlan sent her respectful com- 
 pliments, and her husband had been, and was, detained by some 
 alarming disturbances which had taken place the preceding night 
 at Portanferry, and the necessary investigation which they had 
 occasioned. 
 
 " What's to be done now, counsellor ? " said the Colonel to 
 Pleydell. 
 
3+2 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " Why, I wish we could have seen Mac-Morlan," said the coun- 
 sellc-r, " who is a sensible fellow himself, and would, besides, have 
 acted under my advice. But there is little harm. Our friend here 
 must be made sui juris — he is at present an escaped prisoner ; the 
 law has an awkward claim upon him ; he must be placed rectus in 
 curia, that is the first object. For which purpose, Colonel, I will 
 accompany you in your carriage down to Hazlewood-House ; the 
 distance is not great ; we will offer our bail ; and I am confident I 
 
 can easily show Mr. ■ I beg his pardon — Sii Robert Hazlewood, 
 
 the necessity of receiving it." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the Colonel ; and, ringing the bell, 
 gave the necessary orders. " And what is next to be done ? " 
 
 " We must get hold of Mac-Morlan, and look out for more 
 proof." 
 
 " Proof ! " said the Colonel ; " the thing is as clear as day-light ; — • 
 here are Mr. Sampson and Miss Bertram, and you yourself, at once 
 recognise the young gentleman as his father's image ; and he him- 
 self recollects all the very peculiar circumstances preceding his 
 leaving this country. — What else is necessary to conviction ? " # 
 
 " To moral conviction nothing more, perhaps," said the experi- 
 enced lawyer, "but for legal proof a great deal. Mr. Bertram's 
 recollections are his own recollections merely, and therefore are 
 not evidence in his own favour ; Miss Bertram, the learned Mr. 
 Sampson, and I, can only say, what every one who knew the late 
 Ellangowan will readily agree in, that this gentleman is his very 
 picture — But that will not make him Ellangowan's son, and give 
 him the estate." 
 
 " And what will do so ? " said the Colonel. 
 
 " Why, we must have a distinct probation. — There are these 
 gipsies, — but then, alas ! they are almost infamous in the eye of 
 law — scarce capable of bearing evidence, and Meg Merrilies utterly 
 so, by the various accounts which she formerly gave of the matter, 
 and her impudent denial of all knowledge of the fact when I my- 
 self examined her respecting it." 
 
 " What must be done, then ? " asked Mannering. 
 
 " We must try," answered the legal sage, " what proof can be 
 got at in Holland, among the persons by whom our young friend 
 was educated. — But then the fear of being called in question for 
 the murder of the gauger may make them silent ; or if they speak, 
 they are either foreigners or outlawed smugglers. In short, I see 
 doubts." 
 
 '" Under favour, most learned and honoured sir," said the Do- 
 minie, " I trust He, who hath restored little Harry Bertram to his 
 friends, will not leave his own work imperfect." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 343 
 
 " I trust so too, Mr. Sampson,'' said Pleydell ; " but we must 
 use the means ; and I am afraid we shall have more difficulty in 
 procuring them than I at first thought — But a faint heart never won 
 a fair lady — and, by the way" (apart to Miss Mannering, while 
 Bertram was engaged with his sister), " there's a vindication of 
 Holland for you ! what smart fellows do you think Leyden and 
 Utrecht must send forth, when such a very genteel and handsome 
 young man comes from the paltry schools of Middleburgh ? " 
 
 " Of a verity," said the Dominie, jealous of the reputation of the 
 Dutch seminary — " of a verity, Mr. Pleydell, but I make it known 
 to you that I myself laid the foundation of his education." 
 
 " True, my dear Dominie," answered the advocate ; " that ac- 
 counts for his proficiency in the graces, without question — but here 
 comes your carriage, Colonel. Adieu, young folks : Miss Julia, 
 keep your heart till I come back again — let there be nothing done 
 to prejudice my right, whilst I am non valens agere." 
 
 Their reception at Hazlewood-House was more cold and formal 
 than usual ; for in general the Baronet expressed great respect for 
 Colonel Mannering, and Mr. Pleydell, besides being a man of good 
 family and of high general estimation, was Sir Robert's old friend. 
 But now he seemed dry and embarrassed m his manner. " He 
 would willingly," he said, " receive bail, notwithstanding that the 
 offence had been directly perpetrated, committed, and done, against 
 young Hazlewood of Hazlewood ; but the young man had given 
 himself a fictitious description, and was altogether that sort of per- 
 son who should not be liberated, discharged, or let loose upon 
 society ; and therefore " 
 
 " I hope, Sir Robert Hazlewood," said the Colonel, "you do not 
 mean to doubt my word, when I assure you that he served under 
 me as a cadet in India ? " 
 
 " By no means or account whatsoever. But you call him a cadet ; 
 now he says, avers, and upholds, that he was a captain, or held a 
 troop in your regiment." 
 
 " He was promoted since I gave up the command." 
 
 " But you must have heard of it ? " 
 
 " No. I returned on account of family circumstances from 
 India, and have not since been solicitous to hear particular news 
 from the regiment ; the name of Brown, too, is so common, that I 
 might have seen his promotion in the Gazette without noticing it. 
 But a day or two will bring letters from his commanding-officer." 
 
 " But I am told and informed, Mr. Pleydell," answered Sir 
 Robert, still hesitating, " that he does not mean to abide by this 
 name of Brown, but is to set up a claim to the estate of Ellangowan 
 under the name of Bertram." 
 
344 GUV MANNERING. 
 
 "Ay? who says that?" said the counsellor. 
 
 " Or," demanded the soldier, " whoever says so, does that give a 
 right to keep him in prison ? " 
 
 " Hush, Colonel," said the lawyer ; " I am sure you would not, 
 any more than I, countenance him, if he prove an impostor — And, 
 among friends, who informed you of this, Sir Robert ? " 
 
 " Why, a person, Mr. Pleydell," answered the Baronet, " who is 
 peculiarly interested in investigating, sifting, and clearing out this 
 business to the bottom — you will excuse my being more par- 
 ticular." 
 
 " O, certainly," replied Pleydell ; — "well, and he says ?"■ 
 
 " He says that it is whispered about among tinkers, gipsies, and 
 other idle persons, that there is such a plan as I mentioned to you, 
 and that this young man, who is a bastard or natural son of the 
 late Ellangowan, is pitched upon as the impostor, from his strong 
 family likeness." 
 
 " And was there such a natural son, Sir Robert ? " demanded the 
 counsellor. 
 
 " O, certainly, to my own positive knowledge. Ellangowan had 
 him placed as cabin-boy or powder-monkey on board an armed 
 sloop or yacht belonging to the revenue, through the interest of 
 the late Commissioner Bertram, a kinsman of his own." 
 
 " Well, Sir Robert," said the lawyer, taking the word out of the 
 mouth of the impatient soldier — " you have told me news ; I shall 
 investigate them, and if I find them true, certainly Colonel Man- 
 nering and I will not countenance this young man. In the mean- 
 while, as we are all willing to make him forthcoming, to answer 
 all complaints against him, I do assure you you will act most ille- 
 gally, and incur heavy responsibility, if you refuse our bail." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Pleydell," said Sir Robert, who knew the high autho- 
 rity of the counsellor's opinion, " as you must know best, and as 
 you promise to give up this young man " 
 
 " If he proves an impostor," replied the lawyer, with some 
 emphasis. 
 
 " Ay, certainly — under that condition I will take your bail ; 
 though I must say, an obliging, well-disposed, and civil neighbour 
 of mine, who was himself bred to the law, gave me a hint or 
 caution this morning against doing so. It was from him I learned 
 that this youth was liberated and had come abroad, or rather had 
 broken prison. — But where shall we find one to draw the bail- 
 bond ? " 
 
 " Here," said the counsellor, applying himself to the bell, " send 
 up my clerk, Mr. Driver — it will not do my character harm if I 
 dictate the needful myself." It was written accordingly, and 
 
GUY MANNERING. 34S 
 
 signed ; and the Justice having subscribed a regular warrant for 
 Bertram alias Brown's discharge, the visitors took their leave. 
 
 Each threw himself into his own corner of the post-chariot, and 
 said nothing for some time. The Colonel first broke silence : " So 
 you intend to give up this poor young fellow at the first brush ? " 
 
 " Who, I ? " replied the counsellor ; " I will not give up one hair 
 of his head, though I should follow them to the court of last resort 
 in his behalf — but what signified mooting points and showing one's 
 hand to that old ass ? Much better he should report to his prompter, 
 Glossin, that we are indifferent or lukewarm in the matter. Besides, 
 I wished to have a peep at the enemies' game." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the soldier. " Then I see there are stratagems 
 in law as well as war. Well, and how do you like their line of 
 battle?" 
 
 " Ingenious," said Mr. Pleydell, " but I think desperate — they 
 are finessing too much ; a common fault on such occasions." 
 
 During this discourse the carriage rolled rapidly towards Wood- 
 bourne, without anything occurring worthy of the reader's notice, 
 except their meeting with young Hazlewood, to whom the Colonel 
 told the extraordinary history of Bertram's re-appearance, which he 
 heard with high delight, and then rode on before to pay Miss Ber- 
 tram his compliments on an event so happy and so unexpected. 
 
 We return to the party at Woodbourne. After the departure of 
 Mannering, the conversation related chiefly to the fortunes of the 
 Ellangowan family, their domains, and their former power. " It 
 was, then, under the towers of my fathers," said Bertam, " that I 
 landed some days since, in circumstances much resembling those 
 of a vagabond ? Its mouldering turrets and darksome arches even 
 then awakened thoughts of the deepest interest, and recollections 
 which I was unable to decipher. I will now visit them again with 
 other feelings, and, I trust, other and better hopes/ 
 
 " Do not go there now," said his sister. " The house of our 
 ancestors is at present the habitation of a wretch as insidious as 
 dangerous, whose arts and villany accomplished the ruin and broke 
 the heart of our unhappy father." 
 
 " You increase my anxiety," replied her brother, " to confront 
 this miscreant, even in the den he has constructed for himself — I 
 think I have seen him." 
 
 " But you must consider," said Julia, " that you are now left under 
 Lucy's guard and mine, and are responsible to us for all your 
 motions — consider I have not been a lawyer's mistress twelve hours 
 for nothing, and I assure you it would be madness to attempt to go 
 to Ellangowan just now. — The utmost to which I can consent is, 
 that we shall walk in a body to the head of the Woodbourne avenue, 
 
346 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 and from that perhaps we may indulge you with our company as 
 far as a rising ground in the common, whence your eyes may be 
 blessed with a distant prospect of those gloomy towers, which 
 struck so strongly your sympathetic imagination." 
 
 The party was speedily agreed upon, and the ladies, having 
 taken their cloaks, followed the route proposed under the escort 
 of Captain Bertram. It was a pleasant winter morning, and the 
 cool breeze served only to freshen, not to chill, the fair walkers. 
 A secret though unacknowledged bond of kindness combined the 
 two ladies : and Bertram, now hearing the interesting accounts of 
 his own family, now communicating his adventures in Europe and 
 in India, repaid the pleasure which he received. Lucy felt proud 
 of her brother, as well from the bold and manly turn of his senti- 
 ments, as from the dangers he had encountered, and the spirit with 
 which he had surmounted them. And Julia, while she pondered 
 on her father's words, could not help entertaining hopes, that the 
 independent spirit which had seemed to her father presumption in 
 the humble and plebeian Brown, would have the grace of courage, 
 noble bearing, and high blood, in the far-descended heir of Ellan- 
 gowan. 
 
 They reached at length the little eminence or knoll upon the 
 highest part of the common, called Gibbie's-knowe — a spot repeat- 
 edly mentioned in this history, as being on the skirts of the Ellan- 
 gowan estate. It commanded a fair variety of hill and dale, bor- 
 dered with natural woods, whose naked boughs at this season re- 
 lieved the general colour of the landscape with a dark purple hue ; 
 while in other places the prospect was more formally intersected 
 by lines of plantation, where the Scotch firs displayed their variety 
 of dusky green. At the distance of two or three miles lay the bay 
 of Ellangowan, its waves rippling under the influence of the western 
 breeze. The towers of the ruined castle, seen high over every 
 object in the neighbourhood, received a brighter colouring from the 
 wintry sun. 
 
 " There," said Lucy Bertram, pointing them out in the distance, 
 " there is the seat of our ancestors. God knows, my dear brother, 
 I do not covet in your behalf the extensive power which the lords 
 of these ruins are said to have possessed so long, and sometimes to 
 have used so ill. But, O that I might see you in possession of 
 such relics of their fortune as should give you an honourable inde- 
 pendence, and enable you to stretch your hand for the protection 
 of the old and destitute dependents of our family, whom our poor 
 father's death " 
 
 " True, my dearest Lucy," answered the young heir of Ellan- 
 gowan ; " and I trust, with the assistance of Heaven, which has so 
 
-GUY MANNERING. 347 
 
 far guided us, and with that of these good friends, whom their own 
 generous hearts have interested in my behalf, such a consummation 
 of my hard adventures is now not unlikely. — But as a soldier, I must 
 look with some interest upon that worm-eaten hold of ragged stone ; 
 and if this undermining scoundrel, who is now in possession, dare 
 to displace a pebble of it " 
 
 He was here interrupted by Dinmont, who came hastily after 
 them up the road, unseen till he was near the party :— -" Captain, 
 Captain ! ye're wanted — Ye're wanted by her ye ken o'." 
 
 And immediately Meg Merrilies, as if emerging out of the earth, 
 ascended from the hollow way, and stood before them. " I sought 
 ye at the house," she said, " and found but him (pointing to Din- 
 mont), but ye are right, and I was wrang. It is here we should 
 meet, on this very spot, where my eyes last saw your father. Re- 
 member your promise, and follow me." 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 To hail the king in seemly sort 
 
 The ladie was full fain ; 
 But King Arthur, all sore amazed, 
 
 No answer made again. 
 " What wight art thou," the ladie said, 
 
 " That will not speak to me ? 
 Sir, I may chance to ease thy pain, 
 
 Though I be foul to see." 
 
 The Marriage of Sir Gawaine. 
 
 The fairy bride of Sir Gawaine, while under the influence of the 
 spell of her wicked stepmother, was more decrepit probably, and 
 what is commonly called more ugly than Meg Merrilies ; but I 
 doubt if she possessed that wild sublimity which an excited imagi- 
 nation communicated to features, marked and expressive in their 
 own peculiar character, and to the gestures of a form, which, her 
 sex considered, might be termed gigantic. Accordingly, the Knights 
 of the Round Table did not recoil with more terror from the appa- 
 rition of the loathly lady placed between " an oak and a green 
 holly," than Lucy Bertram and Julia Mannering did from the ap- 
 pearance of this Galwegian sibyl upon the common of Ellangowan. 
 
 " For God's sake," said Julia, pulling out her purse, " give that 
 dreadful woman something, and bid her go away." 
 
 " I cannot," said Bertram ; " I must not offend her." 
 
 " What keeps you here ? " said Meg, exalting the harsh and rough 
 tones of her hollow voice ; " Why do you not follow ? — Must your 
 hour call you twice ? — Do you remember your oath ? — were it at 
 
348 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 kirk ol market, wedding or burial," — and she held high her skinny 
 forefinger in a menacing attitude. 
 
 Bertram turned round to his terrified companions. " Excuse me 
 for a moment ; I am engaged by a promise to follow this woman." 
 
 " Good heavens ! engaged to a madwoman ?" said Julia. 
 
 " Or to a gipsy, who has her band in the wood ready to murder 
 you ! " said Lucy. 
 
 " That was not spoken like a bairn of Ellangowan," said Meg, 
 frowning upon Miss Bertram. " It is the ill-doers are ill-dreaders." 
 
 " In short, I must go," said Bertram, " it is absolutely necessary ; 
 wait for me five minutes on this spot." 
 
 " Five minutes ? " said the gipsy, " five hours may not bring you 
 here again." 
 
 " Do you hear that ? " said Julia ; "for Heaven's sake do not go ! " 
 
 " I must, I must — Mr. Dinmont will protect you back to the 
 house." 
 
 " No," said Meg, " he must come with you ; it is for that he is 
 here. He maun take part wi' hand and heart ; and weel his part it 
 is, for redding his quarrel might have cost you dear." 
 
 " Troth, Luckie, it's very true," said the steady farmer ; " and ere 
 I turn back frae the Captain's side, I'll show that I haena 
 forgotten't." 
 
 " O yes ! " exclaimed both the ladies at once, "let Mr. Dinmont 
 go with you, if go you must, on this strange summons."" 
 
 " Indeed, I must," answered Bertram, " but you see I am safely 
 guarded — Adieu for a short time ; go home as fast as you can." 
 
 He pressed his sister's hand, and took a yet more affectionate 
 farewell of Julia with his eyes. Almost stupified with surprise and 
 fear, the young ladies watched with anxious looks the course of 
 Bertram, his companion, and their extraordinary guide. Her tall 
 figure moved across the wintry heath with steps so swift, so long, 
 and so steady, that she appeared rather to glide than to walk. 
 Bertram and Dinmont, both tall meii, apparently scarce equalled 
 her in height, owing to her longer dress and high head-gear. She 
 proceeded straight across the common, without turning aside to the 
 winding path, by which passengers avoided the inequalities and 
 little rills that traversed it in different directions. Thus the 
 diminishing figures often disappeared from the eye, as they dived 
 into such broken ground, and again ascended to sight when they 
 were past the hollow. There was something frightful and un- 
 earthly, as it were, in the rapid and undeviating course which she 
 pursued, undeterred by any of the impediments which usually 
 incline a traveller from the direct path. Her way was as straight, 
 and nearly as swift, as that of a bird through the air. At length 
 

 
 
 X 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
GUY MANNERING. 349 
 
 they reached those thickets of natural wood which extended from 
 the skirts of the common towards the glades and brook of Dern. 
 cleugh, and were there lost to the view. 
 
 " This is very extraordinary ! " said Lucy, after a pause, and 
 turning round tocher companion ; " what can he have to do with that 
 old hag ? " 
 
 " It is very frightful," answered Julia, " and almost reminds me 
 of the tales of sorceresses, witches, and evil genii, which I have 
 heard in India. They believe there in a fascination of the eye, |by 
 which those who possess it control the will and dictate the motions 
 of their victims. What can your brother have in common with 
 that fearful woman, that he should leave us, obviously against his 
 will, to attend to her commands ? " 
 
 " At least," said Lucy, " we may hold him safe from harm ; for 
 she would never have summoned that faithful creature Dinmont, 
 of whose strength, courage, and steadiness, Henry said so much, 
 to attend upon an expedition where she projected evil to the person 
 of his friend. And now let us go back to the house till the 
 Colonel returns — perhaps Bertram may be back first ; at any rate, 
 the Colonel will judge what is to be done." 
 
 Leaning then upon each other's arm, but yet occasionally 
 stumbling, between fear and the disorder of their nerves, they at 
 length reached the head of the avenue, when they heard the tread 
 of a horse behind. They started, for their ears were awake to 
 every sound, and beheld to their great pleasure young Hazlewood. 
 " The Colonel will be here immediately," he said ; " I galloped on 
 before to pay my respects to Miss Bertram, with the sincerest con- 
 gratulations upon the joyful event which has taken place in her 
 family. I long to be introduced to Captain Bertram, and to thank 
 him for the well-deserved lesson he gave to my rashness and in- 
 discretion." 
 
 " He has left us just now,'' said Lucy, '' and in a manner that has 
 frightened us very much." 
 
 Just at that moment the Colonel's carriage drove up, and, on 
 observing the ladies, stopped, while Mannering and his learned 
 counsel alighted and joined them. They instantly communicated 
 the new cause of alarm. 
 
 " Meg Merrilies again ! " said the Colonel. " She certainly is a 
 most mysterious and unaccountable personage ; but I think she 
 must have something to impart to Bertram, to which she does not 
 mean we should be privy." 
 
 " The devil take the bedlamite old woman ! " said the counsellor : 
 "will she not let things take their course, prout de lege, but must 
 always be putting in her oar in her own way ? — Then I fear, from 
 
35° GUY MANNERING. 
 
 the direction they took, they are going upon the Ellangowan estate 
 — that rascal Glossin has shown us what ruffians he has at his dis- 
 posal. I wish honest Liddesdale may be guard sufficient." 
 
 " If you please," said Hazlewood, " I should be most happy to 
 ride in the direction which they have taken. I am so well known 
 in the country, that I scarce think any outrage will be offered in 
 my presence, and I shall keep at such a cautious distance as not to 
 appear to watch Meg, or interrupt any communication which she 
 may make." 
 
 " Upon my word," said Pleydell (aside), " to be a sprig, whom 
 I remember with a whey face and a satchel not so very many years 
 ago, I think young Hazlewood grows a fine fellow. I am more 
 afraid of a new attempt at legal oppression than at open violence, 
 and from that this young man's presence would deter both Glossin 
 and his understrappers. Hie away then, my boy — peer out — peer 
 out ; — you'll find them somewhere about Derncleugh, or very pro- 
 bably in Warroch-wood." 
 
 Hazlewood turned his horse. " Come back to us to dinner, 
 Hazlewood," cried the Colonel. He bowed, spurred his horse, and 
 galloped off. 
 
 We now return to Bertram and Dinmont, who continued to follow 
 their mysterious guide through the woods and dingles, between the 
 open common and the ruined hamlet of Derncleugh. As she led 
 the way, she never looked back upon her followers, unless to chide 
 them for loitering, though the sweat, in spite of the season, poured 
 from their brows. At other times she spoke to herself in such 
 broken expressions as these : — " It is to rebuild the auld house — it 
 is to lay the corner stone — and did I not warn him ? — I tell'd him I 
 was born to do it, if my father's head had been the stepping-stane, 
 let alane his. I was doomed — still I kept my purpose in the cage 
 and in the stocks ; — I was banished — I kept it in an unco land ;— 
 I was scourged — I was branded — My resolution lay deeper than 
 scourge or red iron could reach — and now the hour is come ! " 
 
 "Captain," said Dinmont, in a half whisper, " I wish she binna 
 uncanny ! her words dinna seem to come in God's name, or like 
 other folks. Od, they threep in our country that there are sic 
 things." - 
 
 " Don't be afraid, my friend," whispered Bertram in return. 
 
 " Fear'd ! fient a haet care I," said the dauntless farmer : " be 
 she witch or deevil, it's a'ane to Dandie Dinmont." 
 
 " Haud your peace, gudeman," said Meg, looking sternly over 
 her shoulder ; " is this a time or place for you to speak, think 
 ye ? " 
 
 "But my good friend," said Bertram, "as I have no doubt in 
 
GUY MANNERING. 
 
 35* 
 
 your good faith, or kindness, which I have experienced, you should 
 in return have some confidence in me — I wish to know where you 
 are leading us." 
 
 " There's but ae answer to that, Henry Bertram," said the sibyl. 
 — " I swore my tongue should never tell, but I never said my finger 
 should never show. Go on and meet your fortune, or turn back 
 and lose it — that's a' I hae to say." 
 
 " Go on then," answered Bertram ; " I will ask no more 
 questions." 
 
 They descended into the glen about the same place where Meg 
 had formerly parted from Bertram. She paused an instant beneath 
 the tall rock where he had witnessed the burial of a dead body, and 
 stamped upon the ground, which, notwithstanding all the care that 
 had been taken, showed vestiges of having been recently moved. 
 " Here rests ane," she said ; " he'll maybe hae neibors sune." 
 
 She then moved up the brook until she came to the ruined ham- 
 let, where, pausing with a look of peculiar and softened interest 
 before one of the gables which was still standing, she said, in a 
 tone less abrupt, though as solemn as before, "Do you see that 
 blackit and broken end of asheeling? — there my kettle boiled for 
 forty years — there I bore twelve buirdly sons and daughters — where 
 are they now ? — where are the leaves that were on that auld ash- 
 tree at Martinmas ! — the west wind has made it bare — and I'm 
 stripped too. — Do you see that saugh-tree? — it's but a blackened 
 rotten stump now — I've sate under it mony a bonnie summer after- 
 noon, when it hung its gay garlands ower the poppling water — I've 
 sat there, and " (elevating her voice) " I've held you on my knee, 
 Henry Bertram, and sung ye sangs of the auld barons and their 
 bloody wars — It will ne'er be green again, and Meg Merrilies will 
 never sing sangs mair, be they blithe or sad. But ye'll no forget 
 her? and ye'll gar big up the auld wa's for her sake? — and let 
 somebody live there that's ower gude to fear them of another 
 warld — For if ever the dead came back amang the living, I'll 
 be seen in this glen mony a night after these crazed banes are in 
 the mould." 
 
 The mixture of insanity and wild pathos with which she spoke 
 these last words, with her right arm bare and extended, her left 
 bent and shrouded beneath the dark red drapery of her mantle, 
 might have been a study worthy of our Siddons herself. " And 
 now," she said, resuming at once, the short, stern, and hasty tone 
 which was most ordinary to her — " let us to the wark — let us to the 
 wark." 
 
 She then led the way to the promontory on which the Kaim of 
 Dern'cleugh was situated, produced a large key from her pocket, and 
 
3S2 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 unlocked the door. The interior of this place was in better order 
 than formerly. " I have made things decent," she said ; " I may 
 be streekit here or night. There will be few, few at Meg's lyke- 
 ■ wake, for mony of our folk will blame what I hae done, and am 
 to do ! " 
 
 She then pointed to a table, upon which was some cold meat, 
 arranged with more attention to neatness than could have been 
 expected from Meg's habits. " Eat," she said, " eat ; ye'll need it 
 this night yet." 
 
 Bertram, in complaisance, ate a morsel or two ; and Dinmont, 
 whose appetite was unabated either by wonder, apprehension, or 
 the meal of the morning, made his usual figure as a trencher-man. 
 She then offered each a single glass of spirits, which Bertram drank 
 diluted, and his companion plain. 
 
 " Will ye taste naething yoursell, Luckie ? " said Dinmont. 
 
 " I shall not need it," replied their mysterious hostess. " And 
 now," she said, "ye maun hae arms — ye mauna gang on dry- 
 handed ; — but use them not rashly — take captive, but save life — let 
 the law hae its ain— he maun speak ere he die." 
 
 "Who is to be taken ? — who is to speak ? " said Bertram in as- 
 tonishment, receiving a pair of pistols which she offered him, and 
 which, upon examining, he found loaded and locked. ' 
 
 " The flints are gude," she said, " and the powder dry — I ken this 
 wark weel." 
 
 Then, without answering his questions, she armed Dinmont also 
 with a large pistol, and desired them to choose sticks for themselves, 
 out of a parcel of very suspicious-looking bludgeons which she 
 brought from a corner. Bertram took a stout sapling, and Dandie 
 selected a club which might have served Hercules himself. They 
 then left the hut together, and, in doing so, Bertram took an oppor- 
 tunity to whisper to Dinmont, " There's something inexplicable in 
 all this — But we need not use these arms unless we see necessity 
 and lawful occasion — take care to do as you see me do." 
 
 Dinmont gave a sagacious nod ; and they continued to follow, 
 over wet and over dry, through bog and through fallow, the foot- 
 steps of their conductress. She guided them to the wood of War- 
 roch by the same track which the late Ellangowan had used when 
 riding to Derncleugh in quest of his child, on the miserable 
 evening of Kennedy's murder. 
 
 When Meg Merrilies had attained these groves, through which 
 the wintry sea-wind was now whistling hoarse and shrill, she 
 seemed to pause a moment as if to recollect the way. " We maun 
 go the precise track," she said, and continued to go forward, but 
 rather in a zigzag i nd involved course, than according to her former 
 
GUY MANNERING. 353 
 
 steady and direct line of motion. At length she guided them 
 through the mazes of the wood to a little open glade of about a 
 quarter of an acre, surrounded by trees and bushes, which made a 
 wild and irregular boundary. Even in winter it was a sheltered 
 and snugly sequestered spot ; but when arrayed in the verdure of 
 spring, the earth sending forth all its wild flowers, the shrubs 
 spreading their waste of blossom around it, and the weeping 
 birches, which towered over the underwood, drooping their long and 
 leafy fibres to intercept the sun, it must have seemed a place for a 
 youthful poet to study his earliest sonnet, or a pair of lovers to ex- 
 change their first mutual avowal of affection. Apparently it now 
 awakened very different recollections. Bertram's brow, when he 
 had looked round the spot, became gloomy and embarrassed. 
 Meg, after uttering to herself, " This is the very spot !" looked at 
 him with a ghastly side-glance. — " D'ye mind it ? " 
 
 '' Yes ! " answered Bertram, " imperfectly I do." 
 
 " Ay ! " pursued his guide, " on this very spot the man fell from 
 his horse — I was behind that bourtree-bush at the very moment. 
 Sair, sair, he strove, and sair he cried for mercy — but he was in the 
 hands of them that never kenn'd the word ! — Now will I show you 
 the further track — the last time ye travelled it, was in these arms." 
 
 She led them accordingly by a long and winding passage, almost 
 overgrown with brushwood, until, without any very perceptible 
 descent, they suddenly found themselves by the sea-side. Meg then 
 walked very fast on between the surf and the rocks, until she came 
 to a remarkable fragment of rock, detached from the rest. " Here," 
 she said, in a low and scarcely audible whisper, " here the corpse 
 was found." 
 
 " And the cave," said Bertram, in the same tone, " is close beside 
 it — are you guiding us there ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the gipsy, in a decided tone. " Bend up both your 
 hearts — follow me as I creep in — I have placed the fire-wood so as 
 to screen you. Bide behind it for a gliff till I say, The hour and the 
 man are baith come / then rin in on him, take his arms, and bind 
 him till the blood burst frae his finger-nails." 
 
 " I will, by my soul ! " said Henry — " if he is the man I suppose 
 — Jansen ? " 
 
 " Ay, Jansen, Hatteraick, and twenty mair names are his." 
 
 " Dinmont, you must stand by me now," said Bertram, " for this 
 fellow is a devil." 
 
 " Ye needna doubt that," said the stout yeoman — " But I wish 
 I could mind a bit prayer or I creep after the witch into that 
 hole that she's opening — It wad be a sair thing to leave the 
 blessed sun, and the free air, and gang and be killed, like a toad 
 
 z 
 
3S4 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 that's run to earth, in a dungeon like that. But, my sooth, they 
 will be hard-bitten terriers will worry Dandie ; so, as I said, deil 
 hae me if I baulk you." This was uttered in the lowest tone of 
 voice possible. The entrance was now open. Meg crept in upon 
 her hands and knees, Bertram followed, and Dinmont, after giving 
 a rueful glance toward the daylight, whose blessings he was 
 abandoning, brought up the rear. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 • Die, prophet, in thy speech ! 
 
 For this, among the rest, was I ordained. 
 
 Henry VI. Part III. 
 
 The progress of the Borderer, who, as we have said, was the last 
 of the party, was fearfully arrested by a hand, which caught hold of 
 his leg as he dragged his long limbs after him in silence and pertur- 
 bation through the low and narrow entrance of the subterranean 
 passage. The steel heart of the bold yeoman had wellnigh given 
 way, and he suppressed with difficulty a shout, which, in the de- 
 fenceless posture and situation which they then occupied, might 
 have cost all their lives. He contented himself, however, with 
 extricating his foot from the grasp of this unexpected follower. 
 " Be still," said a voice behind him, releasing him ; " I am a friend 
 — Charles Hazlewood." 
 
 These words were uttered in a very low voice, but they produced 
 sound enough to startle Meg Merrilies, who led the van, and who, 
 having already gained the place where the cavern expanded, had 
 risen upon her feet. She began, as if to confound any listening ear, 
 to growl, to mutter, and to sing aloud, and at the same time to 
 make a bustle among some brushwood which was now heaped in 
 the cave. 
 
 " Here — beldam — Deyvil's kind," growled the harsh voice of Dirk 
 Hatteraick from the inside of his den ; " what makest thou there ? " 
 
 " Laying the roughies * to keep the cauld wind frae you, ye 
 desperate do-nae-good— Ye're e'en ower weel off, and wots na ; it 
 will be otherwise soon." 
 
 " Have you brought me the brandy, and any news of my people ?" 
 said Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " There's the flask for ye. Your people — dispersed— broken — 
 gone — or cut to ribbands by the red coats." 
 
 " Der Deyvil !— this coast is fatal to me." 
 
 " Ye may hae mair reason to say sae," 
 
GUY MANNERING. 353 
 
 While this dialogue went forward, Bertram and Dinmont had 
 both gained the interior of the cave, and assumed an erect position. 
 The only light which illuminated its rugged and sable precincts 
 was a quantity of wood burnt to charcoal in an iron grate, such as 
 they use in spearing salmon by night. On these red embers Hat- 
 teraick from time to time threw a handful of twigs or splintered 
 wood ; but these, even when they blazed up, afforded a light much 
 disproportioned to the extent of the cavern ; and, as its principal 
 inhabitant lay upon the side of the grate most remote from the 
 entrance, -it was not easy for him to discover distinctly objects 
 which lay in that direction. The intruders, therefore, whose number 
 was now augmented unexpectedly to three, stood behind the loosely- 
 piled branches with little risk of discovery. Dinmont had the sense 
 to keep back Hazlewood with one hand till he whispered to Bertram, 
 " A friend — young Hazlewood." 
 
 It was no time for following up the introduction, and they all 
 stood as still as the rocks around them, obscured behind the pile of 
 brushwood, which had been probably placed there to break the cold 
 wind from the sea, without totally intercepting the supply of air. 
 The branches were laid so loosely above each other, that, looking 
 through them towards the light of the fire-grate, they could easily 
 discover what passed in its vicinity, although a much stronger 
 "degree of illumination than it afforded, would not have enabled the 
 persons placed near the bottom of the cave to have descried them 
 in the position which they occupied. 
 
 The scene, independent of the peculiar moral interest and per- 
 sonal danger which attended it, had, from the effect of the light and 
 shade on the uncommon objects which it exhibited, an appearance 
 emphatically dismal. The light in the fire-grate was the dark-red 
 glare of charcoal in a state of ignition, relieved from time to time 
 by a transient flame of a more vivid or duskier light, as the fuel with 
 which Dirk Hatteraick fed his fire was better or worse fitted for his 
 purpose. Now a dark cloud of stifling smoke rose up to the roof of 
 the cavern, and then lighted into a reluctant and sullen blaze, which 
 flashed wavering up the pillar of smoke, and was suddenly rendered 
 brighter and more lively by some drier fuel, or perhaps some 
 splintered fir timber, which at once converted the smoke into flame. 
 By such fitful irradiation, they could see, more or less distinctly, the 
 form of Hatteraick, whose ravage and rugged cast of features, now 
 rendered yet more ferocious by the circumstances of his situation, 
 and the deep gloom of his mind, assorted well with the rugged and 
 broken vault which rose in a rude arch over and around him. The 
 form of Meg Merrilies, which stalked about him, sometimes in the 
 light, sometimes partially obscured in the smoke or darkness, con- 
 
 z 2 
 
3S6 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 trasted strongly with the sitting figure of Hatteraick as he bent over 
 the 'flame, and from his stationary posture was constantly visible to 
 the spectator, while that of the female flitted around, appearing or 
 disappearing like a spectre. 
 
 Bertram felt his blood boil at the sight of Hatteraick. He re- 
 membered him well under the name of fjansen, which the smug- 
 gler had adopted after the death of Kennedy ; and he remembered 
 also, that this Jansen, and his mate Brown, the same who was shot 
 at Woodbourne, had been the brutal tyrants of his infancy. Ber- 
 tram knew farther, from piecing his own imperfect recollections 
 with the narratives of Mannering and Pleydell, that this man was 
 the prime agent in the act of violence which tore him from his 
 family and country, and had exposed him to so many distresses and 
 dangers. A thousand exasperating reflections rose within his 
 bosom ; and he could hardly refrain from rushing upon Hatteraick 
 and blowing his brains out. 
 
 At the same time this would have been no safe adventure. The 
 flame, as it rose and fell, while it displayed the strong, muscular, 
 and broad-chested frame of the ruffian, glanced also upon two brace 
 of pistols in his belt, and upon the hilt of his cutlass : it was not 
 to be doubted that his desperation was commensurate with his 
 personal strength and means of resistance. Both, indeed, were in- 
 adequate to encounter the combined power of two such men as 
 Bertram himself and his friend Dinmont, without reckoning their 
 unexpected assistant Hazlewood, who was unarmed, and of a 
 slighter make ; but Bertram felt, on a moment's reflection, that 
 there would be neither sense nor valour in anticipating the hang- 
 man's office, and he considered the importance of making Hatte- 
 raick prisoner alive. He therefore repressed his indignation, and 
 awaited what should pass between the ruffian and his gipsy guide. 
 
 "And how are ye now ? " said the harsh and discordant tones of 
 
 his female attendant: "Said I not it would come upon you ay 
 
 and in this very cave, where ye harboured after the deed ? " 
 
 " Wetter and sturm, ye hag ! " replied Hatteraick, " keep your 
 deyvil's matins till they're wanted. Have you seen Glossin ?" 
 
 " No," replied Meg Merrilies ; " youVe missed your blow, ye 
 blood-spiller ! and ye have nothing to expect from the tempter." 
 
 " Hagel ! " exclaimed the ruffian, " if I had him but by the throat ! 
 — And what am I to do then ? " 
 
 "Do?" answered the gipsy; "Die like a man, or be haneed 
 like a dog ! " 
 
 " Hanged, ye hag of Satan !— the hemp's not sown that shall 
 hang me." 
 "It's sown, and it's -grown, and it's heckled, and it's twisted. 
 
GUY MANNERING. 337 
 
 Did I not tell ye, when ye wad take away the boy Harry Bertram, 
 in spite of my prayers — did I not say he would come back when he 
 had dree'd his weird in foreign land till his twenty-first year ? — Did 
 I not say the auld fire would burn down to a spark, but wad kindle 
 again ? " 
 
 " Well, mother, you did say so," said Hatteraick, in a tone that 
 had something of despair in its accents ; " and donner and blitzen ! 
 I believe you. spoke the truth — that younker of Ellangowan has 
 been a rock a-head to me all my life ! and now, with Glossin's 
 cursed contrivance, my crew have been cut off, my boats destroyed, 
 and I dare say the lugger's taken — there were not men enough left 
 on board to work her, far less to fight her — a dredge-boat might 
 have taken her. And what will the owners say ? — Hagel and sturm ! 
 I shall never dare go back again to Flushing." 
 
 " You'll never need," said the gipsy. 
 
 " What are you doing there ? " said her companion ; " and what 
 makes you say that ? " 
 
 During this dialogue, Meg was heaping some flax loosely together. 
 Before answer to this question, she dropped a firebrand upon the 
 flax, which had been previously steeped in some spirituous liquor, 
 for it instantly caught fire, and rose in a vivid pyramid of the most 
 brilliant light up to the very top of the vault. As it ascended, Meg 
 answered the ruffian's question in a firm and steady voice : — 
 " Becattse the Hour's come, and the Man." 
 
 At the appointed signal, Bertram and Dinmont sprung over 
 the brushwood, and rushed upon Hatteraick. Hazlewood, unac- 
 quainted with their plan of assault, was a moment later. The 
 ruffian, who instantly saw he was betrayed, turned his first ven- 
 geance on Meg Merrilies, at whom he discharged a pistol. She 
 fell, with a piercing and dreadful cry, between the shriek of pain 
 and the sound of laughter, when at its highest and most suffocating 
 height. " I kenn'd it would be this way," she said. 
 
 Bertram, in his haste, slipped his foot upon the uneven rock 
 which floored the cave; a fortunate stumble, for Hatteraick's 
 second bullet whistled over him with so true and steady an aim, 
 that had he been standing upright, it must have lodged in his brain. 
 Ere the smuggler could draw another pistol, Dinmont closed with 
 him, and endeavoured by main for.ce to pinion down his arms. 
 Such, however, was the wretch's personal strength, joined to the 
 efforts of his despair, that, in spite of the gigantic force with which 
 Ihe Borderer grappled him, he dragged Dinmont through the 
 blazing flax, and had almost succeeded in drawing a third pistol, 
 which might have proved fatal to the honest farmer, had not Ber- 
 :ram, as well as Hazlewood, come to his assistance, when, by main 
 
358 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 force, and no ordinary exertion of it, they threw Hatteraick on the 
 ground, disarmed him, and bound him. This scuffle, though it 
 takes up some time in the narrative, passed in less than a single 
 minute. When he was fairly mastered, after one or two desperate 
 and almost convulsionary struggles, the ruffian lay perfectly still 
 and silent. " He's gaun to die game ony how," said Dinmont : 
 " weel, I like him na the waur for that." 
 
 This observation honest Dandie made while he was shaking the 
 blazing flax from his rough coat and shaggy black hair, some of 
 which had been singed in the scuffle. " He is quiet now," said 
 Bertram ; " stay by him, and do not permit him to stir till I see 
 whether the poor woman be alive or dead." With Hazlewood's 
 assistance he raised Meg Merrilies. 
 
 " I kenn'd it would be this way," she muttered, " and it's e'en this 
 way that it should be." 
 
 The ball had penetrated the breast below the throat. It did not 
 bleed much externally ; but Bertram, accustomed to see gun-shot 
 wounds, thought it the more alarming. " Good God ! what shall 
 we do for this poor woman?" said he to Hazlewood, the circum- 
 stances superseding the necessity of previous explanation or intro- 
 duction to each other. 
 
 " My horse stands tied above in the wood," said Hazlewood. 
 " I have been watching you these two hours — I will ride off for 
 some assistants that may be trusted. Meanwhile, you had better 
 defend the mouth of the cavern against^ every one until I return." 
 He hastened away. Bertram, after binding Meg Merrilies's wound 
 as well as he could, took station near the mouth of the cave with 
 a cocked pistol in his hand ; Dinmont continued to watch Hatte- 
 raick, keeping a grasp, like that of Hercules, on his breast. There 
 was a dead silence in the cavern, only interrupted by the low and 
 suppressed moaning of the wounded female, and by the hard 
 breathing of the prisoner. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 For though, seduced and led astray, 
 Thou'st travell'd far and wander'd long, 
 
 Thy God hath seen thee all the way, 
 And all the turns that led thee wrong. 
 
 The Hall of Justice. 
 
 After the space of about three quarters of an hour, which the 
 uncertainty and danger of their situation made seem almost thrice 
 
GUY MANNERING. 359 
 
 as long, the voice of young Hazlewood was heard without. " Here 
 I am," he cried, "with a sufficient party." 
 
 " Come in then," answered Bertram, not a little pleased to find 
 his guard relieved. Hazlewood then entered, followed by two or 
 three countrymen, one of whom acted as a peace-officer. They 
 lifted Hatteraick up, and carried him in their arms as far as the 
 entrance of the vault was high enough to permit them ; then laid 
 him on his back, and dragged him along as well as they could, for 
 no persuasion would induce him to assist the transportation by any 
 exertion of his own. He lay as silent and inactive in their hands 
 as a dead corpse, incapable of opposing, but in no way aiding, their 
 operations. When he was dragged into day-light, and placed erect 
 upon his feet among three or four assistants, who had remained 
 without the cave, he seemed stupified and dazzled by the sudden 
 change from the darkness of his cavern. While others were super- 
 intending the removal of Meg Merrilies, those who remained with 
 Hatteraick attempted to make him sit down upon a fragment of rock 
 which lay close upon the high-water mark. A strong shuddering 
 convulsed his iron frame for an instant, as he resisted their pur- 
 pose. "Not there — Hagel ! — you would not make me sit there? " 
 
 These were the only words he spoke ; but their import, and the 
 deep tone of horror in which they were uttered, served to show 
 what was passing in his mind. 
 
 When Meg Merrilies had also been removed from the cavern, 
 with all the care for her safety that circumstances admitted, they 
 consulted where she should be carried. Hazlewood had sent for a 
 surgeon, and proposed that she should be lifted in the meantime to 
 the nearest cottage. But the patient exclaimed, with great earnest- 
 ness, " Na, na, na ! to the Kaim o' Derncleugh — the Kaim o' 
 Derncleugh ; — the spirit will not free itself o' the flesh but there." 
 
 " You must indulge her, I believe," said Bertram ; " her troubled 
 imagination'will otherwise aggravate the fever of the wound." 
 
 They bore her accordingly to the vault. On the way her mind 
 seemed to run more upon the scene which had just passed, than 
 on her own approaching death. " There were three of them set 
 upon him ; — I brought the twasome— but wha was the third ? — It 
 would be himsell, returned to work his ain vengeance ! " 
 
 It was evident that the unexpected appearance of Hazlewood, 
 whose person the outrage of Hatteraick left her no time to recog- 
 nise, had produced a strong effect on her imagination. She often 
 recurred to it. Hazlewood accounted for his unexpected arrival to 
 Bertram, by saying that he had kept them in view for some time 
 by the direction of Mannering ; that, observing them disappear 
 into the cave, he had crept a(ter them, meaning to announce him- 
 
360 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 self and his errand, when his hand in the darkness encountering 
 the leg of Dinmont, had nearly produced a catastrophe, which, 
 indeed, nothing but the presence of mind and fortitude of the bold 
 yeoman could have averted. 
 
 When the gipsy arrived at the hut, she produced the key ; and 
 when they entered, and were about to deposit her upon the bed, 
 she said, in an anxious tone, " Na, na ! not that way, the feet to the 
 east ; " and appeared gratified when they reversed her posture 
 accordingly, and placed her in that appropriate to a dead body. 
 
 " Is there no clergyman near," said Bertram, " to assist this 
 unhappy woman's devotions ? " 
 
 A gentleman, the minister of the parish, who had been Charles 
 Hazlewood's tutor, had, with many others, caught the alarm, that 
 the murderer of Kennedy was taken on the spot where the deed 
 had been done so many years before, and that a woman was 
 mortally wounded. From curiosity, or rather from the feeling that 
 his duty called him to scenes of distress, this gentleman had come 
 to the Kaim of Derncleugh, and now presented himself. The 
 surgeon arrived at the same time, and was about to probe the 
 wound ; but Meg resisted the assistance of either. " It's no what 
 man can do, that will heal my body, or save my spirit. Let me 
 speak what I have to say, and then ye may work your will, I'se be? 
 nae hinderance. — But where's Henry Bertram ? " — The assistants, 
 to whom this name had been long a stranger, gazed upon each 
 other. — " Yes !" she said, in a stronger and harsher tone, " I said 
 Henry Bertram of Ellangowan. Stand from the light and let me 
 see him." 
 
 All eyes were turned towards Bertram, who approached the 
 wretched couch. The wounded woman took hold of his hand. 
 " Look at him," she said, " all that ever saw his father or his grand- 
 father, and bear witness if he is not their living image ?" A mur- 
 mur went through the crowd — the resemblance was too striking to 
 be denied. " And now hear me — and let that man," pointing to 
 Hatteraick, who was seated with his keepers on a sea-chest at some 
 distance — " let him deny what I say, if he can. That is Henry 
 Bertram, son to Godfrey Bertram, umquhile of Ellangowan ; that 
 young man is the very lad-bairn that Dirk Hatteraick carried off 
 from Warroch wood the day that he murdered the gauger. I was 
 there like a wandering spirit — for I longed to see that wood or we 
 left the country. I saved the bairn's life, and sair, sair I prigged 
 =md prayed they would leave him wi' me — But they bore him 
 away, and he's been lang ower the sea, and now he's come for his 
 jin, and what should withstand him ? — I swore to keep the secret 
 Sill he was ane-an'-twenty — I kenn'd he behoved to dree his weird 
 
GUY MANNERING. 361 
 
 till that day cam — I keepit that oath which I took to them — but I 
 made another vow to mysell, and if I lived to see the day of his 
 return, I would set him in his father's seat, if every step was on a 
 dead man. I have keepit that oath too ; — I will be ae step mysell 
 — He" (pointing to Hatteraick) "will soon be another, and there 
 will be ane mair yet." 
 
 The clergyman now interposing, remarked it was a pity this de- 
 position was not regularly taken and written down, and the surgeon 
 urged the necessity of examining the wound, previously to exhaust- 
 ing her by questions. When she saw them removing Hatteraick, 
 in order to clear the room and leave the surgeon to his operations, 
 she called out aloud, raising herself at the same time upon the 
 couch, " Dirk Hatteraick, you and I will never meet again until we 
 are before the judgment-seat — Will ye own to what I have said, 
 or will you dare deny it?" He turned his hardened brow upon 
 her, with a look of dumb and inflexible defiance. " Dirk Hatte- 
 raick, dare ye deny, with my blood upon your hands, one word of 
 what my dying breath is uttering ? " — He looked at her with the 
 same expression of hardihood and dogged stubbornness, and moved 
 his lips, but uttered no sound. " Then fareweel ! " she said, " and 
 God forgive you ! your hand has sealed my evidence. — When I 
 was in life, I was the mad randy gipsy, that had been scourged, 
 and banished, and branded — that had begged from door to door, 
 and been hounded like a stray tike from parish to parish — wha 
 would hae minded her tale ? — But now I am a dying woman, and 
 my words will not fall to the ground, any more than the earth will 
 cover my blood ! " 
 
 She here paused, and all left the hut except the surgeon and two 
 or three women. After a very short examination, he shook his 
 head, and resigned his post by the dying woman's side to the 
 clergyman. 
 
 A chaise returning empty to Kippletringan had been stopped on 
 the high-road by a constable, who foresaw it would be necessary to 
 convey Hatteraick to jail. The driver, understanding what was 
 going on at Derncleugh, left his horses to the care of a blackguard 
 boy, confiding, it is to be supposed, rather in the years and dis- 
 cretion of the cattle, than in those of their keeper, and set off full 
 speed, to see, as he expressed himself, " whaten a sort o' fun was 
 gaun on." He arrived just as the group of tenants and peasants, 
 whose numbers increased every moment, satiated with gazing upon 
 the rugged features of Hatteraick, had turned their attention to- 
 wards Bertram. Almost all of them, especially the aged men who 
 had seen Ellengowan in his better days, felt and acknowledged the 
 justice of Meg Merrilies's appeal. But the Scotch are a cautious 
 
36a GUY MANNERING. 
 
 people ; they remembered there was another in possession of the 
 estate, and they as yet only expressed their feelings in low whispers 
 to each other. Our friend Jock Jabos, the postilion, forced his way 
 into the middle of the circle ; but no sooner cast his eyes upon 
 Bertram, than he started back in amazement, with a solemn excla- 
 mation, " As sure as there's breath in man, it's auld Ellengowan 
 arisen from the dead ! " 
 
 This public declaration of an unprejudiced witness was just the 
 spark wanted to give fire to the popular feeling, which burst forth 
 in three distinct shouts :—" Bertram for ever 1" — " Long life to the 
 heir of Ellangowan ! " — " God send him his ain, and to live among 
 us as his forebears did of yore ! " 
 
 " I hae been seventy years on the land," said one person. 
 
 " I and mine hae been seventy and seventy to that," said another ; 
 " I have a right to ken the glance of a Bertram." 
 
 " I and mine hae been three hundred years here," said another 
 old man, " and I sail sell my last cow but I'll see the young laird 
 placed in his right." 
 
 The women, ever delighted with the marvellous, and not less so 
 when a handsome young man is the subject of the tale, added their 
 shrill acclamations to the general all-hail. " Blessings on him — 
 he's the very picture o' his father ! — the Bertrams were aye the wale 
 o' the country side ! " 
 
 " Eh ! that his puir mother, that died in grief and in doubt 
 about him, had but lived to see this day ! " exclaimed some female 
 voices. 
 
 " But we'll help him to his ain, kimmers," cried others ; " and 
 before Glossin sail keep the Place of Ellangowan, we'll howk him 
 out o't wi' our nails ! " 
 
 Others crowded around Dinmont, who was nothing loth to tell 
 what he knew of his friend, and to boast the honour which he had 
 in contributing to the discovery. As he was known to several of 
 the principal farmers present, his testimony afforded an additional 
 motive to the general enthusiasm. In short, it was one of those 
 moments of intense feeling, when the frost of the Scottish people 
 melts like a snow-wreath, and the dissolving torrent carries dam 
 and dyke before it. 
 
 The sudden shouts interrupted the devotions of the clergyman ; 
 and Meg, who was in one of those dozing fits of stupefaction that 
 precede the close of existence, suddenly started—" Dinna ye hear ? 
 — dinna ye hear? — he's owned! — he's owned! — I lived but for 
 this. — I am a sinfu' woman ; but if my curse brought it down, my 
 blessing has taen it off ! And now I wad hae liked to hae said 
 majr, But it cannot be. Stay" — she continued, stretching her 
 
GUY MANNERING. 363 
 
 head towards the gleam of light that shot through the narrow slit 
 which served for a window," Is he not there? — stand out o' the 
 light, and let me look upon him ance mair. But the darkness is in 
 my ain een," she said, sinking back, after an earnest gaze upon 
 vacuity — " it's a' ended now, 
 
 ' Pass breath, 
 Come death ! ' " 
 
 And, sinking back upon her couch of straw, she expired without a 
 groan. The clergyman and the surgeon carefully noted down all 
 that she had said, now deeply regretting they had not examined 
 her more minutely, but both remaining morally convinced of the 
 truth of her disclosure. 
 
 Hazlewood was the first to compliment Bertram upon the near 
 prospect of his being restored to his name and rank in society. 
 The people around, who how learned from Jabos that Bertram was 
 the person who had wounded him, were struck with his gene- 
 rosity, and added his name to Bertram's in their exulting accla- 
 mations. 
 
 Some, however, demanded of the postilion how he had not 
 recognised Bertram when he saw him some time before at Kipple- 
 tringan? to which he gave the very natural answer — "Hout, what 
 was I thinking about Ellangowan then ? — It was the cry that was 
 rising e'en now that the young laird was found, that put me on 
 finding out the likeness — There was nae missing it ance ane was 
 set to look for't." 
 
 The obduracy of Hatteraick, during the latter part of this 'scene, 
 was in some slight degree shaken. He was observed to twinkle 
 with his eyelids — to attempt to raise his bound hands for the pur- 
 pose of pulling his hat over his brow — to look angrily and impa- 
 tiently to the road, as if anxious for the vehicle which was to remove 
 him from the spot. At length Mr. Hazlewood, apprehensive that 
 the popular ferment might take a direction towards the prisoner, 
 directed he should be taken to the post-chaise, and so removed to 
 the town of Kippletringan to be at Mr. Mac-Morlan's disposal ; at 
 the same time he sent an express to warn that gentleman of what 
 had happened. " And now," he said to Bertram, " I should be 
 happy if you would accompany me to Hazlewood-House ; but as 
 that might not be so agreeable just now as I trust it will be in a 
 day or two, you must allow me to return with you to Woodbourne. 
 But you are on foot." — " O, if the young laird would take my 
 horse ! " — " Or mine " — " Or mine," said half a dozen voices — " Or 
 mine ; he can trot ten mile an hour without whip or spur, and he's 
 the young laird's frae this moment, if he likes to take Jiitn for a 
 
364 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 herezeld,* as they ca'd it lang syne." — Bertram readily accepted 
 the horse as a loan, and poured forth his thanks to the assembled 
 crowd for their good wishes, which they repaid with shouts and 
 vows of attachment. 
 
 While the happy owner was directing one lad to " gae down for 
 the new saddle," another, "just to run the beast ower wi' a dry wisp 
 o' strae," a third, "to hie down and borrow Dan Dunkieson's plated 
 stirrups," and expressing his regret " that there was nae time to 
 gie the nag a feed, that the young laird might ken his mettle," 
 Bertram, taking the clergyman by the arm, walked into the vault, 
 and shut the door immediately after them. He gazed in silence 
 for some minutes upon the body of Meg Merrilies, as it lay before 
 him, with the features sharpened by death, yet still retaining the 
 stern and energetic character which had maintained in life her 
 superiority as the wild chieftainess of the lawless people amongst 
 whom she was born. The young soldier dried the tears which 
 involuntarily rose on viewing this wreck of one, who might be said 
 to have died a victim to her fidelity to his person and family. He 
 then took the clergyman's hand, and asked solemnly, if she appeared 
 able to give that attention to his devotions which befitted a depart- 
 ing person. 
 
 " My dear sir," said the good minister, " I trust this poor woman 
 had remaining sense to feel and join in the import of my prayers. 
 But let us humbly hope we are judged of by our opportunities of 
 religious and moral instruction. In some degree she might be 
 considered as an uninstructed heathen, even in the bosom of a 
 Christian country ; and let us remember, that the errors and vices 
 of an ignorant life were balanced by instances of disinterested 
 attachment amounting almost to heroism. To Him, who can alone 
 weigh our crimes and errors against our efforts towards virtue, we 
 consign her with awe, but not without hope." 
 
 " May I request," said Bertram, " that you will see every decent 
 solemnity attended to in behalf of this poor woman ? I have some 
 property belonging to her in my hands — at all events, I will be 
 answerable for the expense — you will hear of me at Woodbourne." 
 
 Dinmont, who had been furnished with a horse by one of his 
 acquaintance, now loudly called out that all was ready for their 
 return ; and Bertram and Hazlewood, after a strict exhortation to 
 the crowd, which was now increased to' several hundreds, to pre- 
 serve good order in their rejoicing, as the least ungoverned zeal 
 might be turned to the disadvantage of the young Laird, as they 
 termed him, took- their leave amid the shouts of the multitude. 
 
 As they rode past the ruined cottages at Derncleugh, Dinmor/ 
 said, " I'm sure when ye come to your ain, Captain, ye'll no for 
 
GUY MANNERING. 365 
 
 pet to bigg a bit cot-house there ? Deil be in me but I wad do't 
 Kiysell, an it werena in better hands. — I wadna like to live in't 
 though, after what she said. Od, I wad put in auld Elspeth, the 
 bedral's widow — the like o' them's used wi' graves and ghaists, and 
 thae things." 
 
 A short but brisk ride brought them to Woodbourne. The news 
 of their exploit had already flown far and wide, and the whole in- 
 habitants of the vicinity met them on the lawn with shouts of con- 
 gratulation. " That you have seen me alive," said Bertram to 
 Lucy, who first ran up to him, though Julia's eyes even anticipated 
 hers, " you must thank these kind friends." 
 
 With |a blush expressing at once pleasure, gratitude, and bash- 
 fulness, Lucy curtsied to Hazlewood, but to Dinmont she frankly 
 extended her hand. The honest farmer, in the extravagance of his 
 joy, carried his freedom farther than the hint warranted, for he 
 imprinted his thanks on the lady's lips, and was instantly shocked 
 at the rudeness of his own conduct. " Lord sake, madam, I ask 
 your pardon," he said ; I forgot but ye had been a bairn o' my ain 
 — the Captain's sae hamely, he gars ane forget himsell." 
 
 Old Pleydell now advanced : " Nay, if fees like these are going," 
 he said 
 
 " Stop, stop, Mr. Pleydell," said Julia, " you had your fees before- 
 hand — remember last night." 
 
 " Why, I do confess a retainer," said the barrister ; " but if I 
 don't deserve double fees from both Miss Bertram and you when I 
 conclude my examination of Dirk Hatteraick to-morrow — Gad, I 
 will so supple him. — You shall see, Colonel, and you, my saucy 
 Misses, though you may not see, shall hear." 
 
 " Ay, that's if we choose to listen, counsellor," replied Julia. 
 
 " And you think," said Pleydell, " it's two to one you won't 
 choose that ?— But you have curiosity that teaches you the use of 
 your ears now and then." 
 
 " I declare, counsellor," answered the lively damsel, " that such 
 saucy bachelors as you would teach us the use of our fingers now 
 and then." 
 
 " Reserve them for the harpsichord, my love," said the coun- 
 sellor. " Better for all parties." 
 
 While this idle chat ran on, Colonel Mannering introduced to 
 Bertram a plain good-looking man, in a grey coat and waistcoat, 
 buckskin breeches, and boots. " This, my dear sir, is Mr. Mac- 
 Morlan." 
 
 " To whom," said Bertram, embracing him cordially, " my sister 
 was indebted for a home, when deserted by all her natural friends 
 and relations.'' 
 
366 GUY MANNERINO. 
 
 The Dominie then pressed forward, grinned, chuckled, made a 
 diabolical sound in attempting to whistle, and finally, unable to 
 stifle his emotions, ran away to empty the feelings of his heart at 
 his eyes. 
 
 We shall not attempt to describe the expansion of heart and glee 
 of this happy evening. 
 
 CHAPTER LVL 
 
 - How like a hateful ape, 
 
 Detected grinning 'midst his pilfer'd hoard, 
 A cunning man appears, whose secret frauds 
 
 Are open'd to the day ! 
 
 Count Basil. 
 
 There was a great movement at Woodbourne early on the 
 following morning, to attend the examination at Kippletringan. 
 Mr. Pleydell, from the investigation which he had formerly be- 
 stowed on the dark affair of Kennedy's death, as well as from the 
 general deference due to his professional abilities, was requested 
 by Mr. Mac-Morlan and Sir Robert Hazlewood, and another 
 justice of peace who attended, to take the situation of chairman, 
 and the lead in the examination. Colonel Mannering was invited 
 to sit down with them. The examination, being previous to trial, 
 was private in other respects. 
 
 The counsellor resumed and re-interrogated former evidence. 
 He then examined the clergyman and surgeon respecting the dying 
 declaration of Meg Merrilies. They stated, that she distinctly, 
 positively, and repeatedly, declared herself an eye-witness of 
 Kennedy's death by the hands of Hatteraick, and two or three of 
 his crew ; that her presence was accidental ; that she believed 
 their resentment at meeting him, when they were in the act of 
 losing their vessel through the means of his information, led to the 
 commission of the crime ; that she said there was one witness of 
 the murder, but who refused to participate in it, still alive, — her 
 nephew Gabriel Faa ; and she had hinted at another person who 
 was an accessory after, not before, the fact ; but her strength there 
 failed her. They did not forget to mention her declaration, that 
 she had saved the child, and that he was torn from her by the 
 smugglers, for the purpose of carrying him to Holland. — All these 
 particulars were carefully reduced to writing. 
 
 Dirk Hatteraick was then brought in, heavily ironed ; for he had 
 been strictly secured and guarded, owing to his former escape. 
 He was asked his name ; he made no answer : — His profession ; 
 
GUY MANNERING. 367 
 
 he was silent: — Several other questions were put; to none ol 
 which he returned any reply. Pleydell wiped the glasses of his 
 spectacles, and considered the prisoner very attentively. " A very 
 truculent-looking fellow," he whispered to Mannering ; " but, as 
 Dogberry says, I'll go cunningly to work with him. — Here, call in 
 Soles — Soles the shoemaker. — Soles, do you remember measuring 
 some footsteps imprinted on the mud at the wood of Warroch, on 
 
 * November, 17 — , by my orders ?" Soles remembered the 
 
 circumstance perfectly. " Look at that paper — is that your note 
 of the measurement?" — Soles verified the memorandum. "Now, 
 there stands a pair of shoes on that table ; measure them, and see 
 if they correspond with any of the marks you have noted there." 
 The shoemaker obeyed, and declared, " that they answered exactly 
 to the largest of the foot-prints." 
 
 "We shall prove," said the counsellor, aside to Mannering, 
 " that these shoes, which were found in the ruins at Derncleugh, 
 belonged to Brown, the fellow whom you shot on the lawn at 
 Woodbourne. — Now, Soles, measure that prisoner's feet very 
 accurately." 
 
 Mannering observed Hatteraick strictly, and could notice a 
 visible tremor. " Do these measurements correspond with any of 
 the foot-prints ?" 
 
 The man looked at the note, then at his footrule and measure — 
 then verified his former measurement by a second. " They corre- 
 spond," he said, " within a hair-breadth, to a foot-mark broader 
 and shorter than the former." 
 
 Hatteraick's genius here deserted him — " Der deyvil!" he broke 
 out, " how could there be a footmark on the ground, when it was a 
 frost as hard as the heart of a Memel log ?" 
 
 " In the evening, I grant you, Captain Hatteraick," said Pleydell, 
 " but not in the forenoon — will you favour me with information 
 where you were upon the day you remember so exactly ? " 
 
 Hatteraick saw his blunder, and again screwed up his hard 
 features for obstinate silence — "Put down his observation, how- 
 ever," said Pleydell to the clerk. 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and, much to the surprise of 
 most present, Mr. Gilbert Glossin made his appearance. That 
 worthy gentleman had, by dint of watching and eaves-dropping, 
 ascertained that he was not mentioned by name in Meg Merrilies's 
 dying declaration, a circumstance certainly not owing to any 
 favourable disposition towards him, but to the delay of taking her 
 regular examination, and to the rapid approach of death. He 
 therefore supposed himself safe from all evidence but such as 
 might arise from Hatteraick's confession j to prevent which, he 
 
368 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 resolved to push a bold face, and join his brethren of the bench 
 during his examination. — " I shall be able," he thought, " to make 
 the rascal sensible his safety lies in keeping his own counsel and 
 mine ; and my presence, besides, will be a proof of confidence and 
 innocence. If I must lose the estate, I must — but I trust better 
 things." 
 
 He entered with a profound salutation to Sir Robert Hazlewood. 
 Sir Robert, who had rather begun to suspect that his plebeian 
 neighbour had made a cat's-paw of him, inclined his head stiffly, 
 took snuff, and looked another way. 
 
 " Mr. Corsand," said Glossin to the other yoke-fellow of justice, 
 " your most humble servant." 
 
 " Your humble servant, Mr. Glossin," answered Mr. Corsand, 
 drily, composing his countenance regis ad exemplar, that is to say, 
 after the fashion of the Baronet. 
 
 " Mac-Morlan, my worthy friend," continued Glossin, " how d'ye 
 do — always on your duty?" 
 
 " Umph," said honest Mac-Morlan, with little respect either to 
 the compliment or salutation. "Colonel Mannering" (a low bow 
 slightly returned), " and Mr. Pleydell " (another low bow), " I dared 
 not have hoped for your assistance to poor country gentlemen at 
 this period of the session." 
 
 Pleydell took snuff, and eyed him with a glance equally shrewd 
 and sarcastic — " I'll teach him," he said aside to Mannering, " the 
 value of the old admonition, Ne accesseris in consilium anteqicam 
 voeeris." 
 
 " But perhaps I intrude, gentlemen," said Glossin, who could 
 not fail to observe the coldness of his reception — " Is this an open 
 meeting ?" 
 
 " For my part," said Mr. Pleydell, " so far from considering your 
 attendance as an intrusion, Mr. Glossin, I was never so pleased in 
 my life to meet with you ; especially as I think we should, at any 
 rate, have had occasion to request the favour of your company in 
 the course of the day." 
 
 " Well, then, gentlemen," said Glossin, drawing his chair to the 
 table, and beginning to bustle about among the papers, " where are 
 we ? — how far have we got ? where are the declarations ?" 
 
 " Clerk, give me all these papers," said Mr. Pleydell. — " I have 
 an odd way of arranging my documents, Mr. Glossin, another 
 person touching them puts me out — but I shall have occasion for 
 your assistance by-and-by." 
 
 Glossin, thus reduced to inactivity, stole one glance at Dirk 
 Hatteraick, but could read nothing in his dark scowl save malignity 
 and hatred to all around. " But, gentlemen," said Glossin, " is it 
 
GUY MANNERING. 369 
 
 quite right to keep this poor man so heavily ironed, when he is 
 taken up merely for examination ?" 
 
 This was hoisting a kind of friendly signal to the prisoner. " He 
 has escaped once before," said Mac-Morlan drily, and Glossin was 
 silenced. 
 
 Bertram was now introduced, and, to Glossm's confusion, was 
 greeted in the most friendly manner by all present, even by Sir 
 Robert Hazlewood himself. He told Ms recollections of his infancy 
 with that candour and caution of expression which afforded the 
 best warrant for his good faith. " This seems to be rather a civil 
 than a criminal 'question," said Glossin, rising ; " and as you 
 cannot be ignorant, gentlemen, of the effect which this young 
 person's pretended parentage may have on my patrimonial interest, 
 I would rather beg leave to retire." 
 
 "No, my good sir," said Mr. Pleydell, "we can by no means 
 spare you. But why do you call this young man's claims pre- 
 tended ? — I don't mean to fish for your defences against them, if 
 you have any, but " 
 
 " Mr. Pleydell," replied Glossin, " I am always disposed to act 
 above-board, and I think I can explain the matter at once. — This 
 young fellow, whom I take to be a natural son of the late Ellan- 
 gowan, has gone about the country for some weeks under differ- 
 ent names, caballing with a wretched old mad-woman, who, I 
 understand, was shot in a late scuffle, and with other tinkers, 
 gipsies, and persons of that description, and a great brute farmer 
 from Liddesdale, stirring up the tenants against their landlords, 
 which, as Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood knows " 
 
 " Not to interrupt you, Mr. Glossin," said Pleydell, " I ask who 
 you say this young man is ?" 
 
 " Why, I say," replied Glossin, " and I believe that gentleman " 
 (looking at Hatteraick) "knows, that the young man is a natural 
 son of the late Ellangowan by a girl called Janet Lightoheel, who 
 was afterwards married to Hewit the shipwright, that lived in the 
 neighbourhood of Annan. His name is Godfrey Bertram Hewit, 
 by which name he was entered on board the Royal Caroline excise 
 yacht." 
 
 " Ay ?" said Pleydell, " that is a very likely story ! — but, not to 
 pause upon some difference of eyes, complexion, and so forth — be 
 pleased to step forward, sir." — A young seafaring man came 
 forward. — "Here," proceeded the counsellor, "is the real Simon 
 Pure — here's Godfrey Bertram Hewit, arrived last night from 
 Antigua via Liverpool, mate of a West Indian, and in a fair way 
 of doing well in the world, although he came somewhat irregularly 
 into it." 
 
370 GUY MANNER1N0. 
 
 While some conversation passed between the other justices and 
 this young man, Pleydell lifted from among the papers on the table 
 Hatteraick's old pocket-book. A peculiar glance of the smuggler's 
 eye induced the shrewd lawyer to think there was something here 
 of interest. He therefore continued the examination of the papers, 
 laying the book on the .table, but instantly perceived that the pri- 
 soner's interest in the research had cooled — " It must be in the 
 book still, whatever it is," thought Pleydell ; and again applied 
 himself to the pocket-book, until he discovered, on a narrow 
 scrutiny, a slit, between the pasteboard and leather, out of which 
 he drew three small slips of paper. Pleydell now, turning to 
 Glossin, " requested the favour that he would tell them if he had 
 assisted at the search for the body of Kennedy, and the child of 
 his patron, on the day when they disappeared." 
 
 " I did not — that- is — I did," answered the conscience-struck 
 Glossin. 
 
 " It is remarkable, though," said the advocate, " that, connected 
 as you were with the Ellangowan family, I don't recollect your 
 being examined, or even appearing before me, while that investiga- 
 tion was proceeding ?" 
 
 " I was called to London," answered Glossin, " on most important 
 business, the morning after that sad affair." 
 
 " Clerk," said Pleydell, " minute down that reply. — I presume 
 the business, Mr. Glossin, was to negotiate these three bills, drawn 
 by you on Messrs. Vanbeest and Vanbruggen, and accepted by 
 one Dirk Hatteraick in their name, on the very day of the murder. 
 I congratulate you on their being regularly retired, as I perceive 
 they have been. I think the chances were against it." Glossin's 
 countenance fell. " This piece of real evidence," continued Mr. 
 Pleydell, " makes good the account given of your conduct on this 
 occasion by a man called Gabriel "Faa, whom we have now in 
 custody, and who witnessed the whole transaction between you 
 and that worthy prisoner->-Have you any explanation to give ?" 
 
 " Mr. Pleydell," said Glossin, with great composure, " I presume, 
 if you were my counsel, you would not advise me to answer upon 
 the spur of the moment to a charge, which the basest of mankind 
 seem ready to establish by perjury." 
 
 "My advice," said the counsellor, "would be regulated by my 
 -opinion of your innocence or guilt. In your case, I believe you 
 take the wisest course ; but you are aware you must stand com- 
 mitted ? " 
 
 "Committed? for what, sir?" replied Glossin; "Upon a charge 
 cf murder ? " 
 
 " No ; only as art and part of kidnapping the child." 
 
GUV MANNERING. 371 
 
 " That is a bailable' offence." 
 
 " Pardon me,"' said Pleydell, " it is plagium, and plagium is 
 felony." 
 
 " Forgive me, Mr. Pleydell ; — there is only once case upon record, 
 Torrence and |Waldie. They were, you remember, resurrection- 
 women, who had promised to procure a child's body for some young 
 surgeons. Being upon honour to their employers, rather than dis- 
 appoint the evening lecture of the stu,dents, they stole a live child, 
 murdered it, and sold the body for three shillings and sixpence. 
 They were hanged, but for the murder, not for the plagiujn.* Your 
 civil law has carried you a little too far." 
 
 " Well, sir ; but in the meantime, Mr. Mac-Morlan must com- 
 mit you to the county jail, in case this young man repeats the same 
 story. — Officers, remove Mr. Glossin and Hatteraick, and guard 
 them in different apartments." 
 
 " Gabriel, the gipsy, was then introduced, and gave a distinct 
 account of his deserting from Captain Pritchard's vessel and join- 
 ing the smugglers in the action ; detailed how Dirk Hatteraick set 
 fire to his ship when he found her disabled, and under cover of the 
 smoke escaped with his crew, and as much goods as they could 
 save, into the cavern, where they proposed to lie till night-fall. 
 Hatteraick himself, his mate Vanbeest Brown, and three others, of 
 whom the declarant was one, went into the adjacent woods to com- 
 municate with some of their friends in the neighbourhood. They 
 fell in with Kennedy unexpectedly, and Hatteraick and Brown, 
 aware that he was the occasion of their disasters, resolved to mur- 
 der him. He stated, that he had seen them lay violent hands on 
 the officer, and drag him through the woods, but had not partaken 
 in the assault, nor witnessed its termination. That he returned to 
 the cavern by a different route, where he again met Hatteraick and 
 his accomplices ; and the captain was in the act of giving an 
 account how he and Brown had pushed a huge crag over, as Ken- 
 nedy lay groaning on the beach, when Glossin suddenly appeared 
 among them. To the whole transaction by which Hatteraick pur- 
 chased his secrecy he was witness. Respecting young Bertram he 
 could give a distinct account till he went to India, after which he had 
 lost sight of him until he unexpectedly met with him in Liddesdale. , 
 Gabriel Faa farther stated, that he instantly sent notice to his aunt 
 Meg Merrilies, as well as to Hatteraick, ' who he knew was then 
 upon the coast ; but that he had incurred his aunt's displeasure 
 upon the latter account. He concluded that his aunt had immedi- 
 ately declared that she would do all that lay in her power to help 
 young Ellangowan to his right, even if it should be by informing 
 against Dirk Hatteraick ; and that many of her people assisted her 
 
 A A 2 
 
372 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 besides himself, from a belief that she was gifted with supernatural 
 inspirations. With the same purpose, he understood, his aunt had 
 given to Bertram the treasure of the tribe, of which she had the 
 custody. Three or four gipsies, by the express command of Meg 
 Merrilies, had mingled in the crowd when the Custom-house was 
 attacked, for the purpose of liberating Bertram, which he had him- 
 self effected. He said, that in obeying Meg's dictates they did not 
 pretend to estimate their propriety or rationality ; the respect in 
 which she was held by her tribe precluding all such subjects of 
 speculation. Upon farther interrogation, the witness added, that 
 his aunt had always said that Harry Bertram carried that round 
 his neck which would ascertain his birth. It was a spell, she said, 
 that an Oxford scholar had made for him, and she possessed the 
 smugglers with an opinion, that to deprive him of it would occasion 
 the loss of the vessel. 
 
 Bertram here produced a small velvet bag, which he said he had 
 worn round his neck from his earliest infancy, and which he had 
 preserved, first from superstitious reverence, and latterly, from the 
 hope that it may serve one day to aid in the discovery of his birth. 
 The bag being opened, was found to contain a blue silk case, from 
 which was drawn a scheme of nativity. Upon "inspecting this 
 . paper, Colonel Mannering instantly admitted it was his own com- 
 position, and afforded the strongest and most satisfactory evidence, 
 that the possessor of it must necessarily be the young heir of Ellan- 
 gowan, by avowing his having first appeared in that country in the 
 character of an astrologer. 
 
 " And now," said Pleydell, '" make out warrants of commitment 
 for Hatteraick and Glossin until liberated in due course of law. 
 Yet," he said, " I am sorry for Glossin." 
 
 " Now, I think," says Mannering, " he's incomparably the least 
 deserving of pity of the two. The other's a bold fellow, though as 
 hard as flint." 
 
 " Very natural, Colonel," said the advocate, " that you should be 
 interested in the ruffian, and I in the knave — that's all professional 
 taste — but I can tell you, Glossin would have been a pretty lawyer, 
 had he not had such a turn for the roguish part of the profession." 
 
 " Scandal would say," observed Mannering, " he might not be the 
 worse lawyer for that." 
 
 " Scandal would tell a lie, then," replied Pleydell, " as she usually 
 does. Law's like laudanum ; it's much more easy to use' it as a 
 quack does, than to learn to apply it like a physician." 
 
GUY MANNERING. 373 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 Unfit to live, or die : 0, marble heart 
 After him, fellows, drag him to the block. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 The jail at the county town of the shire of was one of those 
 
 old-fashioned dungeons which disgraced Scotland until of late years. 
 When the prisoners and their guard arrived there, Hatteraick, 
 whose violence and strength were well known, was secured in what 
 was called the condemned ward. This was a large apartment near 
 the top of the prison. A round bar of iron, about the thickness of 
 a man's arm above the elbow, crossed the apartment horizontally at 
 the height of about six inches from the floor ; and its extremities 
 were strongly built into the wall at either end.* Hatteraick's 
 ankles were secured within shackles, which were connected by a 
 chain at the distance of about four feet, with a large iron ring, 
 which travelled upon the bar we have described. Thus a prisoner 
 might shuffle along the length of the bar from one side of the room 
 to another, but could not retreat farther from it in any other direc- 
 tion than the brief length of the chain admitted. When his feet 
 had been thus secured, the keeper removed his hand-cuffs, and left 
 his person at liberty in other respects. A pallet-bed was placed 
 close to the bar of iron, so that the shackled prisoner might lie 
 down at pleasure, still fastened to the iron-bar in the manner 
 described. 
 
 Hatteraick had not long been in this place of confinement, before 
 Glossin arrived at the same prison-house. In respect to his com- 
 parative rank and education, he was not ironed, but placed in a 
 decent apartment, under the inspection of Mac-Guffog, who, since 
 the destruction of the Bridewell of Portanferry by the mob, had 
 acted here as an under-turnkey. When Glossin was enclosed within 
 this room, and had solitude and leisure to calculate all the chances 
 against him and in his favour, he could not prevail upon himself to 
 consider the game as desperate. 
 
 " The estate is lost," he said, " that must go ; and, between 
 Pleydell and Mac-Morlan, they'll cut down my claim on it to a 
 trifle. My character — but if I get off with life and liberty, I'll win 
 money yet, and varnish that over again. I knew not the gauger's 
 job until the rascal had done the deed, and though I had some ad- 
 vantage by the contraband, that is no felony. But the kidnapping 
 of the boy — there they touch me closer. Let me see : — This Ber- 
 tram was a child at the time — his evidence must be imperfect — the 
 
374 GUY MANNERING. 
 
 other fellow is a deserter, a gipsy, and an outlaw — Meg Merrilies, 
 d — n her, is dead. These infernal bills ! Hatteraick brought them 
 with him, I suppose, to have the means of threatening me, or ex- 
 torting money from me. I must endeavour to see the rascal ; — 
 must get him to stand steady ; must persuade him to put some 
 other colour upon the business." 
 
 His mind teeming with schemes of future deceit to cover former 
 villainy, he spent the time in arranging and combining them until 
 the hour of supper. Mac-Guffog attended as turnkey on this occa- 
 sion. He was, as we know, the old and special acquaintance of the 
 prisoner who was now under his charge. After giving the turnkey 
 a glass of brandy, and sounding him with one or two cajoling 
 speeches, Glossin made it his request that he would help him to an 
 interview with Dirk Hatteraick. " Impossible ! utterly impossible! 
 its contrary to the express orders of Mr. Mac-Morlan, and the 
 captain " (as the head jailer of a county jail is called in Scotland) 
 " would never forgie me." 
 
 " But why should he know of it ? " said Glossin, slipping a couple 
 of guineas into Mac-Guffog's hand. 
 
 The turnkey weighed the gold, and looked sharp at Glossin. 
 Ay, ay, Mr. Glossin, ye ken the ways o' this place. — Lookee, at lock- 
 up hour, I'll return and bring ye up stairs to him — But ye must stay 
 a' night in his cell, for I am under needcessity to carry the keys to 
 the captain for the night, and I cannot let you out again until 
 morning — then I'll visit the wards half an hour earlier than usual, 
 and ye may get out, and be snug in your ain birth when the captain 
 gangs his rounds." 
 
 When the hour of ten had peeled from the neighbouring steeple, 
 Mac-Guffog came prepared with a small dark lantern. He said 
 softly to Glossin, " Slip your shoes off, and follow me." When 
 Glossin was out of the door, Mac-Guffog, as if in the execution of 
 his ordinary duty, and speaking to a prisoner within, called aloud, 
 " Good night to you, sir," and locked the door, clattering the bolts 
 with much ostentatious noise. He then guided Glossin up a steep 
 and narrow stair, at the top of which was the door of the con- 
 demned ward ; he unbarred and unlocked it, and giving Glossin 
 the lantern, made a sign to him to enter, and locked the door be- 
 hind him with the same affected accuracy. 
 
 In the large dark cell into which he was thus introduced, Glos- 
 sin's feeble light for some time enabled him to discover nothing. 
 At length he could dimly distinguish the pallet-bed stretched on 
 the floor beside the great iron bar which traversed the room, and 
 on that pallet reposed the figure of a man. Glossin approached 
 him. " Pifk Hatteraick ! " 
 
GUY MANNERING. 375 
 
 " Donner and hagel ! it is his voice," said the prisoner, sitting up 
 and clashing his fetters as he rose : " then my dream is true ! — 
 Begone, and leave me to myself — it will be your best." 
 
 " What ! my good friend," said Glossin, " will you allow the pros- 
 pect of a few weeks' confinement to depress your spirit ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered the ruffian, sullenly — "when I am only to be 
 released by a halter ! — Let me alone — go about your business, and 
 turn the lamp from my face ! " 
 
 " Psha ! my dear Dirk, don't be afraid," said Glossin — " I have 
 a glorious plan to make all right." 
 
 " To the bottomless pit with your plans ! " replied his accomplice. 
 " You have planned me out of ship, cargo, and life ; and I dreamt 
 this moment that Meg Merrilies dragged you here by the hair, and 
 gave me the long clasped knife she used to wear. — You don't know 
 what she said. Sturm wetter ! it will be your wisdom not to 
 tempt me ! " 
 
 " But, Hatteraick, my good friend, do but rise and speak to me," 
 said Glossin." 
 
 " I will not ! " answered the savage; doggedly — " you have caused 
 all the mischief ; you would not let Meg keep the boy ; she would 
 have returned him after he had forgot all." 
 
 " Why, Hatteraick, you are turned driveller ! " 
 
 " Wetter ! will you deny that all that cursed attempt at Portan- 
 ferry, which lost both sloop and crew, was your device for your own 
 job?" 
 
 " But the goods, you know "— — 
 
 " Curse the goods ! " said the smuggler, " we could have got 
 plenty more ; but, der deyvil ! to lose the ship and the fine fellows, 
 and my own life, for a cursed coward villain, that always works his 
 own mischief with other people's hands ! Speak to me no more — 
 I'm dangerous." 
 
 " But, Dirk — but, Hatteraick, hear me only a few words.'' 
 
 " Hagel ! nein ! " 
 
 " Only one sentence." 
 
 " Tausand curses ! — nein ! " 
 
 " At least get up, for an obstinate Dutch brute ! " said Glossin, 
 losing his temper, and pushing Hatteraick with his foot. 
 
 " Donner and blitzen ! " said Hatteraick, springing up and 
 grappling with him ; " you will have it then ? " 
 
 Glossin struggled and resisted ; but, owing to his surprise at the 
 fury of the assault, so ineffectually, that he fell under Hatteraick, 
 the back part of his neck coming full upon the iron bar with stun' 
 ning violence. The death-grapple continued. The room imme- 
 diately below the condemned ward, being that of Glossin, was, of 
 
376' GUY MANNERING. 
 
 course, empty ; but the inmates of the second apartment beneath 
 felt the shock of Glossin's heavy fall, and heard a noise as of, strug- 
 gling and of groans. But all sounds of horror were too congenial 
 to this place to excite much curiosity or interest. 
 
 In the morning, faithful to his promise, Mac-Guffog came — " Mr. 
 Glossin," said he, in a whispering voice. 
 
 " Call louder," answered Dirk Hatteraick. 
 
 " Mr. Glossin, for God's sake come away ! " 
 
 " He'll hardly do that without help," said Hatteraick. 
 
 "What are you chattering there for, Mac-Guffog?" called out 
 the captain from below. 
 
 " Come away, for God's sake, Mr. Glossin ! " repeated the 
 turnkey. 
 
 At this moment the jailor made his appearance with a light. 
 Great was his surprise, and even horror, to observe Glossin's body 
 lying doubled across the iron bar, in a posture that excluded all 
 idea of his being alive. Hatteraick was quietly stretched upon his 
 pallet within a yard of his victim. On lifting Glossin, it was found 
 he had been dead for some hours. His body bore uncommon 
 marks of violence. The spine where it joins the skull had received 
 severe injury by his first fall. There were distinct marks of strangu- 
 lation about the throat, which corresponded with the blackened 
 state of his face. The head was turned backward over the 
 shoulder, as if the neck had been wrung round with desperate 
 violence. So that it would seem that his inveterate antagonist had 
 fixed a fatal gripe upon the wretch's throat, and never quitted it 
 while life lasted. The lantern, crushed and broken to pieces, lay 
 beneath the body. 
 
 Mac-Morlan was in the town, and came instantly to examine the 
 corpse. " What brought Glossin here ? " he said to Hatteraick. 
 
 " The devil ! " answered the ruffian. 
 
 " And what did you do to him ? " 
 
 " Sent him to hell before me ! " replied the miscreant. 
 
 " Wretch ! " said Mac-Morlan, " you have crowned a life spent 
 without a single virtue, with the murder of your own miserable 
 accomplice 1 " 
 
 "Virtue!" exclaimed the prisoner, " Donner ! - I was always 
 faithful to my ship-owners — always accounted for cargo to the last 
 stiver ! Hark ye ! let me have pen and ink, and I'll write an 
 account of the whole to our house ; and leave me alone a couple of 
 hours, will ye— and let them take away that piece of carrion, donner 
 wetter ! " 
 
 Mac-Morlan deemed it the best way to humour the savage ; he 
 was furnished with writing materials, and left alone. When they 
 
GUY MANNERING. 377 
 
 again opened the door, it was found that this determined villain 
 had anticipated justice. He had adjusted a cord taken from the 
 truckle-bed, and attached it to a bone, the relic of his yesterday's 
 dinner, which he had contrived to drive into a crevice between two 
 stones in the wall, at a height as great as he could reach standing 
 upon the bar. Having fastened the noose, he had the resolution 
 to drop his body as if to fall on his knees, and to retain that posture 
 until resolution was no longer necessary. The letter he had written 
 to his owners, though chiefly upon the business of their trade, con- 
 tained many allusions to the younker of Ellangowan, as he called 
 him, and afforded absolute confirmation of all Meg Merrilies and 
 her nephew had told. 
 
 To dismiss the catastrophe of these two wretched men, I shall 
 only add, that Mac-Guffog was turned out of office, notwithstand- 
 ing his declaration (which he offered to attest by oath), that he had 
 locked Glossin safely in his own room upon the night preceding his 
 being found dead in Dirk Hatteraick's cell. His story, however, 
 found faith with the worthy Mr. Skriegh, and other lovers of the mar- 
 vellous, who still hold that the Enemy of Mankind brought these 
 two wretches together upon that night, by supernatural interference, 
 that they might fill up the cup of their guilt and receive its meed, 
 by murder and suicide. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 To sum the whole — the close of all. 
 
 Dean Swift. 
 
 As Glossin died without heirs, and without payment of the price, 
 the estate of Ellangowan was again thrown upon the hands of Mr. 
 Godfrey Bertram's creditors, the right of most of whom was how- 
 ever defeasible, in case Henry Bertram should establish his cha- 
 racter of heir of entail. This young gentleman put his affairs into 
 the hands of Mr. Pleydell and Mr. Mac-Morlan, with one single 
 proviso, that though he himself should be obliged again to go to 
 India, every debt, justly and honourably due by his father, should 
 be made good to the claimant. Mannering, who heard this decla- 
 ration, grasped him kindly by the hand, and from that moment 
 might be dated a thorough understanding between them. 
 
 The hoards of Miss Margaret Bertram, and the liberal assistance 
 of the Colonel, easily enabled the heir to make provision for pay- 
 ment of the just creditors of his father ; while the ingenuity and 
 research of his law friends detected, especially in the accounts 0/ 
 Glossin, so many overcharges as greatly diminished the total 
 
37» GUY MANNERING. 
 
 amount. In these circumstances, the creditors did not hesitate to 
 recognise Bertram's right, and to surrender to him the house and 
 property of his ancestors. All the party repaired from Woodbourne 
 to take possession, amid the shouts of the tenantry and the neigh- 
 bourhood ; and so eager was Colonel Mannering to superintend 
 certain improvements which he had recommended to Bertram, that 
 he removed with his family from Woodbourne to Ellangowan, 
 although at present containing much less and much inferior accom- 
 modation. 
 
 The poor Dominie's brain was almost turned with joy on return- 
 ing to his old habitation. He posted up stairs, taking three steps 
 at once, to a little shabby attic, his cell and dormitory in former 
 days, and which the possession of his much superior apartment at 
 Woodbourne had never banished from his memory. Here one sad 
 thought suddenly struck the honest man — the books !— no three 
 rooms in Ellangowan were capable to contain them. While this 
 qualifying reflection was passing through his mind, he was suddenly 
 summoned by Mannering to assist in calculating some proportions 
 relating to a large and splendid house, which was to be built on the 
 site of the New Place of Ellangowan, in a style corresponding to 
 the magnificence of the ruins in its vicinity. Among the various 
 rooms in the plan, the Dominie observed, that one of the largest 
 was entitled The Library ; and close beside was a snug well-pro- 
 portioned chamber, entitled, Mr. Sampson's Apartment. — " Pro- 
 digious, prodigious, pro-di-gi-ous ! " shouted the enraptured 
 Dominie. 
 
 Mr. Pleydell had left the party for some time ; but he returned, 
 according to promise, during the Christmas recess of the courts. 
 He drove up to Ellangowan when all the family were abroad but 
 the Colonel, who was busy with plans of buildings and pleasure- 
 grounds, in which he was well skilled, and took great delight. 
 
 " Ah ha ! said the counsellor, " so here you are ! Where are the 
 ladies ? where is the fair Julia ? " 
 
 " Walking out with young Hazlewood, Bertram, and Captain 
 Delaserre, a friend of his, who is with us just now. They are gone 
 to plan out a cottage at Derncleugh. Well, have you carried 
 through your law business ? " 
 
 " With a wet finger," answered the lawyer ; " got our youngster's 
 special service retoured into chancery. We had him served heir 
 before the macers." 
 
 " Macers ? who are they ? " 
 
 " Why, it is a kind of judicial Saturnalia. You must know, that 
 one of the requisites to be a macer, or officer in attendance upon 
 our supreme court is that they shall be men of no knowledge," 
 
GUY MANNERING. 379 
 
 " Very well ! " 
 
 " Now, our Scottish legislature, for the joke's sake I suppose, 
 have constituted those men of no knowledge into a peculiar court 
 for trying questions of relationship and descent, such as this busi- 
 ness of Bertram, which often involve the most nice and complicated 
 'questions of evidence." 
 
 " The devil they have ? I should think that rather inconvenient," 
 said Mannering. 
 
 " O, we have a practical remedy for the theoretical absurdity. 
 One or two of the judges act upon such occasions as prompters 
 and assessors to their own door-keepers. But you know what 
 Cujacius says, 'Multa sunt in moribus dissentanea, multa sine 
 rationed* However, this Saturnalian court has done our business; 
 and a glorious batch of claret we had afterwards at Walker's. Mac- 
 Morlan will stare when he sees the bill." 
 
 " Never fear," said the Colonel ; " we'll face the shock, and 
 entertain the county at my friend Mrs. Mac-Candlish's to boot." 
 
 "And choose Jock Jabos for your master of horse ? " replied the 
 lawyer. 
 
 " Perhaps I may." 
 
 "And where is Dandie, the redoubted Lord of Liddesdale?" 
 demanded the advocate. , 
 
 " Returned to his mountains ; but he has promised Julia to make 
 a descent in summer, with the goodwife, as he calls her, and I 
 don't know how many children." 
 
 " O, the curly-headed varlets ! I must come to play at Blind 
 Harry and Hy Spy with them. — But- what is all this?" added 
 Pleydell, taking up the plans ; — tower in the centre to be an imita- 
 tion of the Eagle Tower at Caernarvon — corps de logis — the devil ! 
 ■ — wings — wings ? why the house will take the estate of Ellangowan 
 on its back, and fly away with it !" 
 
 " Why, then, we must ballast it with a few bags of Sicca rupees," 
 replied the Colonel. 
 
 " Aha ! sits the wind there ? Then I suppose the young dog 
 carries off my mistress Julia?" 
 
 " Even so, counsellor." 
 
 " These rascals, the post-nati, get the better of us of the old 
 school at every turn," said Mr. Pleydell. " But she must convey 
 and make over her interest in me to Lucy." 
 
 " To tell you the truth, I am afraid your flank will be turned there 
 too," replied the Colonel. 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 " Here has been Sir Robert Hazlewood," said Mannering, " upon 
 a vi§it to Bertram thinking, and deeming, and opining." 
 
3 8o GUY MANNERING. 
 
 " O Lord ! pray spare me the worthy Baronet's triads ! " 
 
 " Well, sir," continued Mannering ; " to make short, he conceived 
 that as the property of Singleside lay like a wedge between two 
 farms of his, and was four or five miles separated from Ellangowan, 
 something like a sale, or exchange, or arrangement might take 
 place, to the mutual convenience of both parties." 
 
 " Well, and Bertram " 
 
 " Why, Bertram replied, that he considered the original settle- 
 ment of Mrs. Margaret Bertram as the arrangement most proper in 
 the circumstances of the family, and that therefore the estate of 
 Singleside was the property of his sister." 
 
 " The rascal ! " said Pleydell, wiping his spectacles, " he'll steal 
 my heart as well as my mistress — Et fitiis ?" 
 
 " And then Sir Robert retired, after many gracious speeches ; but 
 last week he again took the field in force, with his coach and six 
 horses, his laced scarlet waistcoat, and best bob-wig — all very 
 grand, as the good-boy books say." 
 
 " Ay ! and what was his overture ? " 
 
 " Why, he talked with great form of an attachment on the part 
 of Charles Hazlewood to Miss Bertram." 
 
 " Ay, ay ; he respected the little god Cupid when he saw him 
 perched on the Dun of Singleside. And is poor Lucy to keep 
 house with that old fool and his wife, who is just the knight him- 
 self in petticoats ? " 
 
 " No — we parried that. Singleside-House is to be repaired for 
 the young people, and to be called hereafter Mount Hazlewood." 
 
 " And do you yourself, Colonel, propose to continue at Wood- 
 bourne ? " 
 
 " Only till we carry these plans into effect. See, here's the plan 
 of my Bungalow, with all convenience for being separate and sulky 
 when I please." 
 
 " And, being situated, as I see, next door to the old castle, you 
 may repair Donagild's tower for the nocturnal contemplation of the 
 celestial bodies ? Bravo, Colonel ! " 
 
 " No, no, my dear counsellor I Here ends 
 
 The Astrologer." 
 
NOTES TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 * P. 21. — The Hope, often pronounced 
 Whaap, is the sheltered part or hollow 
 of the hill. Hof, Iwwff, haaf, and 
 haven, are all modifications of the 
 same word. 
 
 * P. 22. — Provincial for eastward and 
 westward. 
 
 * P. 22. — Hatching time. 
 
 * P. 33. — Thegroaningmaltmentioned 
 in the text was the ale brewed for the 
 purpose of being drunk after the lady or 
 good wife's safe delivery. The ken-no 
 has a more ancient source, and per- 
 haps the custom may be derived from 
 the secret rites of the Bona Dca. A 
 large and rich cheese was made by 
 the women of the family, with great 
 affectation of secrecy, for the refresh- 
 ment of the gossips who were to 
 attend at the canny minute. This 
 was the ken-no, so called because its 
 existence was secret (that is, presumed 
 to be so) from all the males of the 
 family, but especially from the hus- 
 band and master. He was, accord- 
 ingly, expected to conduct himself as 
 if he knew of no such preparation, to 
 act as if desirous to press the female 
 guests to refreshments, and to seem 
 surprised at their obstinate refusal. 
 But the instant his back was turned 
 the ken-no was produced ; and after 
 all had eaten their fill, with a proper 
 accompaniment of Has. groaning malt, 
 the remainder was divided among the 
 gossips, each carrying a large portion 
 home with the same affectation of 
 great secrecy. 
 
 * P. 39. — The outline of the above de- 
 scription, as far as the supposed 
 ruins are concerned, will be found 
 somewhat to resemble the noble re- 
 mains of Carlaverock Castle, six or 
 seven miles from Dumfries, and near 
 to Lochar Moss. 
 
 * P. 42. — Meaning — Stop your uncivil 
 language — that is a gentleman from 
 the house below. 
 
 * P. 42. — A dram of liquor. 
 
 » p. 58. — The father of Economical Phi- 
 losophy, was, when a child, actually 
 carried off by gipsies, and remained 
 some hours in their possession. 
 
 * P. 60. — This anecdote is a literal 
 fact. 
 
 * P. 67. — A cow without horns. 
 
 * P. 70.— The Scottish Sheriff dis- 
 charges on such occasions as that now 
 mentioned, pretty much- the same 
 duty as a Coroner. 
 
 * P. 82. — The precentor is called by 
 Allan Ramsay, — 
 
 " The Letter-Gae of haly rhyme." 
 
 * P. 137. — It is fitting to explain to 
 the reader the locality described in 
 this chapter. There is, or rather I 
 should say there was, a little inn, 
 called Mumps.'s Hall, — that is, being 
 interpreted, Beggar's Hotel, — near to 
 Gilsland, which had not then attained 
 its present fame as a Spa. It was a 
 hedge alehouse, where the Border 
 farmers of either country often stopped 
 to refresh themselves and their nags, 
 in their way to and from the fairs and 
 trysts in Cumberland, and especially 
 those who came from or went to 
 Scotland, through a barren and lonely 
 district, without either road or path- 
 way, emphatically called the Waste of 
 Bewcastle. At the period when the 
 adventures described in the novel are 
 supposed to have taken place, there 
 were many instances of attacks by 
 freebooters on those who travelled 
 through this wild district ; and 
 Mumps's Ha' had a bad reputation 
 for harbouring the banditti who com- 
 mitted such depredations. 
 
 An old and sturdy yeoman belong- 
 ing to the Scottish side, by surname ' 
 an Armstrong or Elliott, but well 
 known by his sobriquet of Fighting 
 Charlie of Liddesdale, and still re- 
 membered for the courage he displayed 
 in the frequent frays which took place 
 on the Border fifty or sixty years since, 
 had the following adventure in the 
 Waste, which suggested the idea of 
 the scene in the text : — 
 
 Charlie had been at Stagshaw-bank 
 fair, had sold his sheep or cattle, or 
 whatever he had brought to market, and 
 was on his return to Liddesdale. There 
 were then no country banks where 
 casli could be deposited, and bills re- 
 
382 
 
 NOTES TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 ceived instead, which greatly encou- 
 raged robbery in that wild country, as 
 the objects of plunder were usually 
 fraught with gold. The robbers had 
 spies in the fair, by means of whom 
 they generally knew whose purse was 
 best stocked, and who took a lonely 
 and desolate road homeward, — those, 
 in short, who were best worth rob- 
 bing, and likely to be most easily 
 robbed. 
 
 All this Charlie knew full well ; — 
 but he had a pair of excellent pistols, 
 and a dauntless heart. He stopped 
 at Mumps's Ha', notwithstanding the 
 evil character of the place. His horse 
 was accommodated where it might 
 have the necessary rest and feed of 
 com ; and Charlie himself, a dashing 
 fellow, grew gracious with the land- 
 lady, a buxom quean, who used all the 
 influence in her power to induce him 
 to stop all night. The landlord was 
 from home, she said, and it was ill 
 passing the Waste, as twilight must 
 needs descend on him .before he 
 gained the Scottish side, which was 
 reckoned the safest. But Fighting 
 Charlie, though he suffered himself to 
 be detained later than was prudent, 
 did not account Mumps's Ha' a safe 
 place to' quarter in during the night. 
 He tore himself away, therefore, from 
 Meg's good fare and kind words, and 
 mounted his nag, having first ex- 
 amined his pistols, and tried by the 
 ramrod whether the charge remained 
 in them. 
 
 He proceeded a mile or two, at a 
 round trot, when, as the Waste 
 stretched black before him, apprehen- 
 sions began to awaken in his mind, 
 partly arising out of Meg's unusual 
 kindness, which he could not help 
 thinking had rather a suspicious ap- 
 pearance. He therefore resolved to 
 reload his pistols, lest the powder had 
 become, damp ; but what was his sur- 
 prise, when he drew the charge, to find 
 neither powder nor ball, while each 
 barrel had been carefully filled with 
 tow up to the space which the load- 
 ing had occupied ! and, the priming 
 of the weapons being left untouched, 
 nothing but actually drawing and ex- 
 amining the charge could have dis- 
 covered the inefficiency of his arms 
 till the fatal minute arrived when 
 their services were required., Charlie 
 bestowed a hearty Liddesdale curse 
 
 on his landlady, and reloaded his 
 pistols with care and accuracy, having 
 now no doubt that he was to be way- 
 laid and assaulted. He was not far 
 engaged in the Waste, which was 
 then, and is now, traversed only by 
 such routes as are described in the 
 text, when two or three fellows, dis- 
 guised and variously armed, started 
 from a moss-hag, while, by a glance 
 behind him (for, marching, as the 
 Spaniard says, with his beard on his 
 shoulder, he reconnoitred in every 
 direction), Charlie instantly saw re- 
 treat was impossible, as other two 
 stout men appeared behind him at 
 some distance. The Borderer lost 
 not a moment in taking his resolution, 
 and boldly trotted against his enemies 
 in front, who called loudly on him to 
 stand and deliver. Charlie spurred 
 on, and presented his pistol. "D — n 
 your pistol ! " said the foremost rob- 
 ber, whom Charlie to his dying day 
 protested he believed to have been the 
 landlord of Mumps's Ha' — "D — n 
 your pistol ! I care not a curse for 
 it." — "Ay, lad," said the deep voice 
 of Fighting Charlie, "but the tow's 
 out vow." He had no occasion to 
 utter another word, the rogues, sur- 
 prised at finding a man of redoubted 
 courage well armed, instead of being 
 defenceless, took to the moss in every 
 direction, and he -passed on his way 
 without farther molestation. 
 
 The author has heard this story 
 told by persons who received it from 
 Fighting Charlie himself ; he has also 
 heard that Mumps's Ha' was after- 
 wards the scene of some other atro- 
 cious villany, for which the people of 
 the house suffered. But these are all 
 tales of at least half a century old, 
 and the Waste has been for many 
 years as safe as any place in the king- 
 dom. 
 
 * P. 138. — The real name of this vete- 
 ran sportsman (Jamie Grieve) is now 
 restored. 
 
 * P. 142. — To scour the cramp-ring, is 
 said metaphorically, for being thrown 
 into fetters, or, generally, into prison. 
 
 * P. 146. — The author may here re- 
 mark, that the character of Dandie 
 Dinmont , was drawn from no indi- 
 vidual. A dozen, at least, of stout 
 Liddesdale yeomen with whom he has 
 been acquainted, and whose hospi- 
 tality he has shared in his rambles 
 
NOTES TO GUY MANNERtNG. 
 
 383 
 
 through tEat wild country, at a time 
 when it was totally inaccessible save 
 in the manner described in the text, 
 might lay claim to be the prototype 
 of the rough, but faithful, hospitable, 
 and generous farmer. But one cir- 
 cumstance occasioned the name to be 
 fixed upon a most respectable indi- 
 vidual of this class, now no more. 
 Mr. James Davidson of Hindlee, a 
 tenant of Lord Douglas, besides the 
 points of blunt honesty, personal 
 strength, and hardihood, designed to 
 be expressed in the character of Dan- 
 die Dinmont, had the humour of 
 naming a celebrated race of terriers 
 which he possessed, by the generic 
 names of Mustard and Pepper (accord- 
 ing as their colour was yellow, or 
 greyish-black), without any other in- 
 dividual distinction, except as accord- 
 ing to the nomenclature in the text. 
 Mr. Davidson resided at Hindlee, a 
 wild farm on the very edge of the 
 Teviotdale mountains, and bordering 
 close on Liddesdale, where the rivers 
 and brooks divide as they take their 
 course to the (Eastern and Western 
 seas. His passion for the chase, in all 
 its forms, but especially, for fox-hunt- 
 ing, as followed in the fashion de- 
 scribed in the next chapter, in con- 
 ducting which he was skilful beyond 
 most men in the South Highlands, 
 was the distinguishing point in his 
 character. 
 
 When the tale on which these com- 
 ments are written, became rather 
 popular, the name of Dandie Dinmont 
 was generally given to him, which 
 Mr. Davidson received with great 
 good humour, only saying, while he. 
 distinguished the author by the name 
 applied to himin the country, where 
 his own is so common — ' ' that the 
 Sheriff had not written about him 
 mair than about other folk, but only 
 about his dogs." An English lady of 
 high rank and fashion being desirous 
 to possess a brace of the celebrated 
 Mustard and Pepper terriers, ex- 
 pressed her wishes in a letter, which 
 was literally addressed to Dandie Din- 
 mont, under which, very general di- 
 rection it reached Mr. Davidson, who 
 was justly proud of the application, 
 and failed not to comply with a re- 
 quest which did him and his favourite 
 attendants so much honour. 
 
 I trust I shall riot be considered as 
 
 offending the memory of a kind and 
 worthy man, if I mention a little trait 
 of character which occurred in Mr. 
 Davidson's last illness. I use the 
 words of the excellent clergyman who 
 attended him, who gave the account 
 to a reverend gentleman of the same 
 persuasion : — 
 
 " I read to Mr. Davidson the very 
 suitable and interesting truths you ad- 
 dressed to him. He listened to them 
 with great seriousness, and has uni- 
 formly displayed a deep concern 
 about his soul's salvation. He died 
 on the first Sabbath of the year(i82o); 
 an apoplectic stroke deprived him in 
 an instant of all sensation, but hap- 
 pily his brother was at his bedside, 
 for he had detained him from the 
 meeting-house that day to be near 
 him, although hefelt himself not much 
 worse than usual. — So you have got 
 the last little Mustard that the hand 
 of Dandie Dinmont bestowed. 
 
 " His ruling passion was strong 
 even on the eve of death. Mr. Baillie's 
 fox-hounds had started a fox opposite 
 to his window a few weeks ago, and 
 as soon as he heard the sound of the 
 dogs his eyes glistened ; he insisted on 
 getting out of bed, and with much 
 difficulty got to the window, and there 
 enjoyed the fun, as he called it. When 
 I came down to ask for him, he said, 
 ' he had seen Reynard, but had not 
 seen his death. If it had been the 
 will of Providence,' he added, ' I 
 would have liked to have been after 
 him ; but I am glad that I got to the 
 window, and am thankful for what I 
 saw, for it has done me a great deal 
 of good.' Notwithstanding these ec- 
 centricities (adds the sensible and 
 liberal clergyman), I sincerely hope 
 and believe he has gone to a better 
 world, and better company and enjoy- 
 ments." 
 
 If some part of this little narrative 
 mayexcite asmile, itis onewhich is con- 
 sistent with the most perfect respect 
 for the simple-minded invalid, and his 
 kind and judicious religious instructor, 
 who, we hope, will not be displeased 
 with our giving, we trust, a correct 
 edition of an anecdote which has been 
 pretty generally circulated. The race 
 of Pepper and Mustard are in the 
 highest estimation at this day, not 
 only for vermin killing, but for intelli- 
 ligence and fidelity. Those who, like 
 
3^4 
 
 NOTES TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 the author, possess a brace of them, 
 consider them as very desirable com- 
 panions. 
 
 * P. 154. — Or leister. The long spear 
 is used for striking ; but there is a 
 shorter, which is cast from the hand, 
 and with which an experienced sports- 
 man hits the fish with singular dexte- 
 rity. 
 
 * P. 156. — The cleek here intimated, is 
 the iron hook, or hooks, depending 
 from the chimney of a Scottish cot- 
 tage, on which the pot is suspended 
 when boiling. The same appendage 
 is often called the crook. The salmon 
 is usually dried by hanging it up, after 
 being split and rubbed with salt, in 
 the smoke of the turf fire above the 
 cleeks, where it is said to reist, that 
 preparation being so termed. The 
 salmon thus preserved is eaten as a 
 delicacy, under the name of kipper, a 
 luxury to which Dr. Redgill has given 
 his sanction as an ingredient of the 
 Scottish breakfast. — See the excellent 
 novel entitled " Marriage." 
 
 * P. 157. — The barbs of the spear. 
 
 * P. 157. — When dry splinters, or 
 branches, are used as fuel to supply 
 the light for burning the water, as it 
 is called, they are termed, as in the 
 text, Roughies. When rags, dipped 
 in tar, are employed, they are called 
 Hards, probably from the French. 
 
 * P. 157. — The distinction of indi- 
 viduals by nicknames, when they pos- 
 sess no property, is still common on 
 the Border, and indeed necessary, 
 from the number of persons having the 
 same name. In the •small village of 
 Lustruther, in Roxburghshire, there 
 dwelt, in the memory of man, four 
 inhabitants, called Andrew, or, Dan- 
 die, Oliver. They were distinguished 
 as Dandie Eassil-gate, Dandie Was- 
 sil-gate, Dandie Thumbie, and Dan- 
 die Dumbie. The two first had their 
 names from living eastward and west- 
 ward in the street of the village ; the 
 third from something peculiar in the 
 conformation of his thumb ; the fourth 
 from his taciturn habits. 
 
 It is told as a well-known jest, that a 
 beggar-woman, repulsed from door to 
 door as she solicited quarters through 
 a village of Annandale, asked, in her 
 despair, if there were no Christians in 
 the place. To which the hearers, con- 
 cluding that she inquired for some 
 persons so surnaracd, answered, " Na, 
 
 na, there are nae Christians here ; we 
 are a' Johnstones and Jardines." 
 
 » P. 160.— It would be affectation to 
 alter this reference. But the reader 
 will understand, that it was inserted 
 to keep up the author's incognito, as 
 he was not likely to be suspected of 
 quoting his own works. This expla- 
 nation is also applicable to one or two 
 similar passages, in this and the other 
 novels, introduced for the same 
 reason. 
 
 * P. 164. — The mysterious rites in 
 which Meg Merrilies is described as 
 engaging, belong to her character as 
 a queen of her race. All know that 
 gipsies in every country claim ac- 
 quaintance with the gift of fortune- 
 telling ; but, as is often the case, they 
 are liable to the superstitions of which 
 they avail themselves in others. The 
 correspondent of Blackwood, quoted 
 in the introduction to this Tale, gives 
 us some information on the subject of 
 their credulity : — 
 
 "I have ever understood," he says, 
 speaking of the Yetholm gipsies, ' ' that 
 they are extremely superstitious — care- 
 fully noticing the formation of the 
 clouds, the flight of particular birds, 
 and the soughing of the winds, before 
 attempting any enterprise. They 
 have been known for several succes- 
 sive days to turn back with their 
 loaded carts, asses, and children, on 
 meeting with persons whom they con- 
 sidered of unlucky aspect ? nor do 
 they ever proceed on their summer 
 peregrinations without some propi- 
 tious omen of their fortunate return. 
 They also burn the clothes of their 
 dead, not so much from any appre- 
 hension of infection being communi- 
 cated by them, as the conviction that 
 the very circumstance of wearing them 
 would shorten the days of their living. 
 They likewise carefully watch the 
 corpse by night and day till the time 
 of interment, and conceive that ' the 
 deil tinkles at the lykewake ' of those 
 who felt in their dead-tkraw the ago- 
 nies and terrors of remorse." 
 
 These notions are not peculiar to 
 the gipsies ; but having been once 
 generally entertained among the Scot- 
 tish common people, are now only 
 found among those who are the most 
 rude in their habits, and most devoid 
 of instruction. The popular idea, that 
 the protracted struggle between lifeand 
 
NOTES TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 S«S 
 
 death is painfully prolonged by keep- 
 ing the door of the apartment shut, 
 was received as certain by the super- 
 stitious eld of Scotland. But neither 
 was it to be thrown wide open. To 
 leave the door ajar, was the plan 
 adopted by the old crones who under- 
 stood the mysteries of deathbeds and 
 lykewakes. In that case, there was 
 room for the imprisoned spirit to es- 
 cape ; and yet an obstacle, we have 
 been assured, was offered to the en- 
 trance of any frightful form which 
 might otherwise intrude itself. The 
 threshold of a habitation was in some 
 sort a sacred limit, and the subject of 
 much superstition. A bride, even to 
 this day, is always lifted over it, a rule 
 derived apparently from the Romans. 
 
 * P. 164. — The redding straik, namely, 
 a blow received by a peacemaker who 
 interferes betwixt two combatants, to 
 red or separate them, is proverbially 
 said to be the most dangerous blow a 
 man can receive. 
 
 * P. 167. — A girl. — Murder by night. — 
 Liquor and food. — The leader (and 
 greatest rogue) of the gang. — Stolen a 
 rag. — Get imprisoned and hanged. — 
 Straw. — Go out and watch. — Throt- 
 tled you. 
 
 * P. 168. — Got so many warrants out. 
 
 * 168. — To sing out or whistle in the 
 cage, is when a rogue, being appre- 
 hended, peaches against his com- 
 rades. 
 
 * P. 191. — The tongue of the trump is 
 the wire of the Jew's harp, that which 
 gives sound to the whole instrument. 
 
 * P. 193. — Some of the strict dissenters 
 decline takng an oath before a civil 
 magistrate. 
 
 * P. 195. — The procession of the cri- 
 minals to the gallows of old took that 
 direction, moving, as the schoolboy 
 rhyme had it — 
 
 Up the Lawn-market, 
 Down the West Bow, 
 Up the lang ladder, 
 And down the little tow. 
 
 * P. 198. — Cant expression for base 
 coin. 
 
 * P. 199- — Unarmed. — Given informa- 
 tion to the party concerned. — Hand- 
 cuffs- , • 
 
 * P. 214. — The great and inviolable 
 oath of the strolling tribes. 
 
 * P. 228. — The Scottish memorial cor- 
 responds to the English brief. 
 
 * P. 233. — This was the celebrated Dr. 
 
 Erskine, a distinguished clergyman, 
 and a most excellent man. 
 
 * P. 233. — The father of Dr. Erskine 
 was an eminent lawyer, and his Insti- 
 tutes of the Law of Scotland are to 
 this day the text-book of students of 
 that science. 
 
 * P. 245. — The stock of sheep. 
 
 * P. 246.— The roads of Liddesdale, in 
 Dandie Dinmont's days, could not be 
 said to exist, and the district was only 
 accessible through a succession of tre- 
 mendous morasses. About thirty 
 years ago, the author himself was the 
 first person who ever drove a little 
 open carriage into these wilds ; the 
 excellent roads by which they are now 
 traversed being then in some progress. 
 The people stared with no small won- 
 der at a sight which many of them 
 had never witnessed in their lives 
 before. 
 
 * P. 251. — The Tappit Hen contained 
 three quarts of claret — 
 
 ' ' Weel she lo'ed a Hawick gill, 
 And leugh to see a Tappit Hen." 
 I have seen one of these formidable 
 stoups at Provost Haswell's, at Jed- 
 burgh, in the days of yore. It was a 
 pewter measure, the claret being in 
 ancient days served from the tap, and 
 had the figure of a hen upon the lid. 
 In later times, the name was given to 
 a glass bottle of the same dimensions. 
 These are rare apparitions among the 
 degenerate topers of modern days. 
 
 * P. 252. — The account given by Mr. 
 Pleydell, of his sitting down in the 
 midst of a revel to draw an appeal 
 case, was taken from a story told me, 
 by an aged gentleman, of the elder 
 President Dundas of Arniston (father 
 of the younger President and of Lord 
 Melville). It had been thought very 
 desirable; while that distinguished 
 lawyer was King's counsel, that his 
 assistance should be obtained in 
 drawing an appeal case, which, as 
 occasion for such writings then rarely 
 occurred, was held to be matter of 
 great nicety. The Solicitor employed 
 for the appellant, attended by my in- 
 formant acting as his clerk, went to 
 the Lord Advocate's chambers in the 
 Fishmarket close, as I think. It was 
 Saturday at noon, the Court was just 
 dismissed, the Lord Advocate had 
 changed his dress and booted himself, 
 and his servant and horses were at the 
 foot of the close to carry him to Arnis- 
 
 II B 
 
3E6 
 
 NOTES TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 ton. It was scarcely possible to get 
 him to listen to a word respecting 
 business. The wily agent, however, 
 on pretence of asking one or two 
 questions, which would not detain 
 him half on hour, drew his Lordship, 
 who was no less an eminent ion vivaiit 
 than a lawyer of unequalled talent, to 
 take a whet at a celebrated tavern, 
 when the learned counsel became gra- 
 dually involved in a spirited discussion 
 of the law points of the case. At 
 length it occurred to him, that he 
 might as well ride to Arniston in the 
 cool of the evening. The horses were 
 directed to be put in the stable, but 
 not to be unsaddled. Dinner was or- 
 dered, the law was laid aside for a 
 time, and the bottle circulated very 
 freely. At nine o'clock at night, after 
 he had been honouring Bacchus for so 
 many hours, the Lord Advocate or- 
 dered his horses to be unsaddled, — 
 paper, pen, and ink were brought— he 
 began to dictate the appeal case — and 
 continued at his task till four o'clock 
 the next morning. By next day's post, 
 the solicitor sent the case to London, 
 a chef-d'ceuvre of its kind, and in 
 which my informant assured me, it 
 was not necessary on revisal to correct 
 five words. I am not, therefore, con- 
 scious of having overstepped accuracy 
 in describing the manner in which 
 Scottish lawyers of the old time occa- 
 sionally united the worship of Bacchus 
 with that of Themis. My informant 
 was Alexander Keith, Esq., grand- 
 father to my friend, the present Sir 
 Alexander Keith, of Ravelstone, and 
 apprentice at the time to the writer 
 who conducted the cause. 
 
 * P. 253. — Every insignificant churl. 
 
 * P. 292. — The handle of a stoup of 
 liquor ; than which, our proverb seems 
 to infer, there is nothing comes more 
 readily to the grasp. 
 
 * P. 299. — We nrust again have re- 
 course to the contribution to Black- 
 wood's Magazine, April, 1817 : — 
 
 " To the admirers of good eating, 
 gipsy cookery seems to have little to 
 recommend it. I can assure you, how- 
 ever, that the cook of a nobleman of 
 high distinction, a person who never 
 reads even a novel without an eye to 
 the enlargement of the culinary sci- 
 ence, has added to the Almanach des 
 Gourmands, a certain Potage d la Meg 
 Mertilies de Dernchugh, consisting of 
 
 game and poultry of all kinds, stewed 
 with vegetables into a soup, which 
 rivals in savour and richness the gal- 
 lant messes of Camacho's wedding ; 
 and which the Baron of Bradwardine 
 would certainly have reckoned among 
 the Epulce lautiores. 
 
 The artist alluded to in this passage, 
 is Mons. Florence, cook to Henry and 
 Charles, late Dukes of Buccleugh, and 
 of high distinction in his profession. 
 
 * P. 318. — The Burnet, whose taste for 
 the evening meal of the ancients is 
 quoted by Mr. Pleydell, was the cele- 
 brated metaphysician and excellent 
 man, Lord Monboddo, whose ccencB 
 will not be soon forgotten by those 
 who haveshared his classic hospitality. 
 As a Scottish Tudge, he took the de- 
 signation of his family estate. His 
 philosophy, as is well known, was of 
 a fanciful and somewhat fantastic cha- 
 racter; but his learning was deep, and 
 he was possessed of a singular power 
 of eloquence, which reminded the 
 hearer of the os rotundum of the Grove 
 or Academe. Enthusiastically partial 
 to classical habits, his entertainments 
 were always given in the evening, 
 when there was a circulation of excel- 
 lent Bourdeaux, in flasks garlanded 
 with roses, which were also strewed 
 on the table after the manner of Ho- 
 race. The best society, whether in 
 respect of rank or literary distinction, 
 was always to be found in St. John's 
 Street, Canongate. The conversa- 
 tion of the excellent old man, his high, 
 gentleman-like, and chivalrous spirit, 
 the learning and wit with which he de- 
 fended his fanciful paradoxes, and the 
 kind and liberal spirit of his hospi- 
 tality, must render these noctes cxncs- 
 que dear to all who, like the author 
 (though then young) had the honour' 
 of sitting at his board. 
 
 * P. 320. — It is probably true, as ob- 
 served by Counsellor Pleydell, that a 
 lawyer's anxiety about his case, sup- 
 posing him to have been some time in 
 practice, will seldom disturb his rest 
 or digestion. Clients will, ■ however, 
 sometimes fondly entertain a different 
 opinion. I was told by an excellent 
 judge, now no more, of a country gen- 
 tleman, who, addressing his leading 
 counsel, my informer, then an advo- 
 cate in great practice, on the morning 
 of the day on which the case was to be 
 pleaded, said, with singular bonhomu, 
 
NOTES TO GUY MANNERING. 
 
 387 
 
 'Weel, my lord" (the counsel was 
 Lord Advocate), " the awful day is 
 come at last. I have nae been able to 
 sleep a wink for thinking of it — nor, I 
 dare say, your Lordship either." 
 
 * P. 325. — When a farmer's crop is got 
 safely into the barn-yard, it is said to 
 be made fast with thack and rape — 
 Anglick straw and rope. 
 
 * P. 328. — It may not be unnecessary to 
 tell southern readers, that the moun- 
 tainous country in the south-western 
 borders of Scotland, is called Hleland, 
 though totally different from the much 
 more mountainous and more extensive 
 districts of the north, usually called 
 Hlelands. 
 
 * P. 332. — A spleuchan is a tobacco- 
 pouch, occasionally used as a purse. 
 
 * P. 332. — Whistling, among the ten- 
 antry of a large estate, is, when an 
 individual gives such information to 
 the proprietor or his managers, as to 
 occasion the rent of his neighbour's 
 farms being raised, which, for obvious 
 reasons, is held a very unpopular 
 practice. 
 
 * P' 333' — Obstinate and unruly — 
 Troublesome. 
 
 * P. 354. — Withered boughs. 
 
 * P. 364. — This hard word is placed 
 in the mouth of one of the aged 
 tenants. In the old feudal tenures, 
 the herezeld constituted the best horse 
 or other animal on the vassals' lands, 
 become the right of the superior. 
 The only remnant of this custom is 
 what is called the sasine, or a fee of 
 certain estimated value, paid to the 
 sheriff of the county, who gives pos- 
 session to the vassals of the crown. 
 
 * P. 371. — This is, in its circumstances 
 and issue, actually a case tried and 
 reported. 
 
 * P- 373- — 'I n ' s m0| ie of securing 
 prisoners was universally practised in 
 Scotland after condemnation. When 
 a man received sentence of death, he 
 was put upon the Gad, as it was 
 called, that is, secured to the bar of 
 iron in the manner mentioned in the 
 text. The practice subsisted in Edin- 
 burgh till the old jail was taken down 
 some years since, and perhaps may 
 be still in use. 
 
 * P- 379- — The singular inconsistency 
 hinted at is now, in a great degree, 
 removed. 
 
 ADDITIONAL NOTE. 
 GALWEGIAN LOCALITIES AND PER- 
 SONAGES WHICH HAVE BEEN SUP- 
 POSED TO BE ALLUDED TO IN THE 
 NOVEL. 
 
 An old English proverb says, that 
 more know Tom Fool than Tom Fool 
 knows ; and the influence of the adage 
 seems to extend to works composed 
 under the influence of an idle or 
 foolish planet. Many corresponding 
 circumstances are detected by readers, 
 of which the author did not suspect 
 the existence. He must, however, 
 regard it as a great compliment, that 
 in detailing incidents purely imagi- 
 nary, he has been so fortunate in ap- 
 proximating reality, as to remind his 
 readers of actual occurrences. It is 
 therefore with pleasure he notices 
 some pieces of local history and tra- 
 dition, which have been supposed to 
 coincide with the fictitious persons, 
 incidents, and scenery of Guy Man- 
 nering. 
 
 The prototype of Dirk Hatteraick 
 is considered as having been a Dutch 
 skipper called Yawkins. This man 
 was well known on the coast of Gal- 
 loway and Dumfriesshire, as sole 
 proprietor and master of a Buckkar, 
 or smuggling lugger, called the Black 
 Prince. Being distinguished by his 
 nautical skill and intrepidity, his ves- 
 sel was frequently freighted, and his 
 own services employed, by French, 
 Dutch, Manx, and Scottish smuggling 
 companies. 
 
 A person well known by the name 
 of Buckkar-Tea, from having been a 
 noted smuggler of that article, and 
 also by that of Bogle-Bush, the place 
 of his residence, assured my kind in- 
 formant, Mr. Train, that he had fre- 
 quently seen upwards of two hundred 
 Lingtow-men assemble at one time, 
 and go off into the interior of tha 
 country, fully laden with contraband 
 goods. 
 
 In those halcyon days of the free 
 trade, the fixed price for carrying a 
 box of tea, or bale of tobacco, from 
 the coast of Galloway to Edinburgh, 
 was fifteen shillings, and a man with 
 two horses carried four such packages. 
 The trade was entirely destroyed by 
 Mr. Pitt's celebrated commutation, 
 law, which, by reducing the duties 
 upon excisable articles, enabled the 
 lawful dealer to compete with the 
 
 B B 2 
 
388 
 
 NOTES TO GUY MANNER ING. 
 
 smuggler. The statute was called in 
 Galloway and Dumfriesshire, by those 
 who had thriven upon the contraband 
 trade, " the burning and starving 
 act." 
 
 Sure of such active assistance on 
 shore, Yawkins demeaned himself so 
 boldly, that his mere name was a 
 terror to the officers of the revenue. 
 He availed himself of the fears which 
 his presence inspired on one particular 
 night, when, happening to be ashore 
 with a considerable quantity of goods 
 in his sole custody, a strong party of 
 excisemen came down on him. Far 
 from shunning the attack, Yawkins 
 sprung forward, shouting, "Come on, 
 my lads ! Yawkins is before you." 
 The revenue officers were intimidated, 
 and reliquished their prize, though de- 
 fended only by the courage and ad- 
 dress of a single man. On his proper 
 element, Yawkins was equally suc- 
 cessful. On one occasion, he was 
 landing his cargo at the Manxman's 
 lake, near Kirkcudbright, when two 
 revenue cutters (the Pigmy and the 
 Dwarf) hove in sight at once on dif- 
 ferent tacks, the one coming round 
 by the Isles of Fleet, the other between 
 the Point of Rueberry and the Muckle 
 Ron. The dauntless fiee-trader in- 
 stantly weighed anchor, and bore 
 down right between the luggers, so 
 close that he tossed his hat on the deck 
 of the one, and his wig on that of the 
 other, hoisted a cask to his main-top, 
 to show his occupation, and bore away 
 under an extraordinary pressure of 
 canvas, without receiving injury. To 
 account for these and other hair- 
 breadth escapes, popular superstition 
 alleged that Yawkins insured his cele- 
 brated Buckkar by compounding with 
 the devil for one-tenth of his crew 
 every voyage. How they arranged 
 the separation of the stock and tithes, 
 is left to our conjecture. The Buckkar 
 was perhaps called the Black Prince 
 in honour of the formidable insurer. 
 
 The Black Prince used to discharge 
 her cargo afrLuce, Balcarry, and else- 
 where on the coast ; but her owner's 
 favourite landing-places were at the 
 entrance of the Dee and the Cree, near 
 the old castle of Rueberry, about six 
 miles below Kirkcudbright. There is 
 a cave of large dimensions in the 
 vicinity of Rueberry, which, from its 
 being frequently used by Yawkins, and 
 
 his supposed connexion with the 
 smugglers on the shore, is now called 
 Dirk Hatteraick's cave. Strangers 
 who visit this place, the scenery of 
 which is highly romantic, are also 
 shown, under the name of theGauger's 
 Loup, a tremendous precipice, being 
 the same, it is asserted, from which 
 Kennedy was precipitated. 
 
 Meg Merrilies is in Galloway con- 
 sidered as having had her origin in 
 the traditions concerning the cele- 
 brated Flora Marshal, one of the 
 royal consorts of Willie Marshal, 
 more commonly called the Caird of 
 Barullion, King of the Gipsies of the 
 Western Lowlands. That potentate 
 was himself deserving of notice, from 
 the following peculiarities. He was 
 born in the parish of Kirkmichael, 
 about the 1671 ; and as he died at 
 Kirkcudbright 23rd November 1792, 
 he must then have been in the one 
 hundred and twentieth year of his 
 age. It cannot be said that this un- 
 usually long lease of existence was 
 noted by any peculiar excellence of 
 conduct or habits of life. Willie had 
 been pressed or enlisted in the army 
 seven times ;• and had deserted as 
 often ; besides three times running 
 away from the naval service. He 
 had been seventeen times lawfully 
 married ; and besides such a reason- 
 ably large share of matrimonial com- 
 forts, was, after his hundredth year, 
 the avowed father of four children, by 
 less legitimate affections. He sub- 
 sisted, in his extreme old age, by a 
 pension from the present Earl of Sel- 
 kirk's grandfather. Will Marshal is 
 buried in Kirkcudbright Church, 
 where his monument is still shown, 
 decorated with a scutcheon suitably 
 blazoned with two tups' horns and 
 two cutty spoons. 
 
 In his youth he occasionally took 
 an evening walk on the highway, with 
 the purpose of assisting travellers by 
 relieving them of the weight of their 
 purses. On one occasion, the Caird 
 of Barullion robbed the Laird of Bar- 
 gaily, at a place between Carsphairn 
 and Dalmellington. His purpose was 
 not achieved without a severe struggle, 
 in which the Gipsy- lost his bonnet, 
 and was obliged to escape, leaving it 
 on the road. A respectable farmer 
 happened to be the next passenger, 
 and seeing the bonnet, alighted, took 
 
NOTES TO GUY MANNERIHG. 
 
 389 
 
 it up, and rather imprudently put it 
 on his own head. At this instant, 
 Bargally came up with some assist- 
 ants, and recognising the bonnet, 
 charged the farmer of Bantoberick 
 with having robbed him, and took 
 him into custody. There being some 
 likeness between the parties, Bargally 
 persisted in his charge, and though 
 the respectability of the farmer's cha- 
 racter was proved or admitted, his 
 trial before the Circuit Court came on 
 accordingly. The fatal bonnet lay on 
 the table of the Court ; Bargally swore 
 that it was the identical article worn 
 by the man who robbed him ; and he 
 and others likewise deponed that they 
 had found the accused on the spot 
 where the crime was committed, with 
 the bonnet on his head. The case 
 looked gloomily for the prisoner, and 
 the opinion of the judge seemed un- 
 favourable. But there was a person 
 in court who knew well both toho did, 
 and who did not, commit the crime. 
 This was the Caird of Barullion, who 
 thrusting himself up to the bar, near 
 the place where Bargally was stand- 
 ing, suddenly seized on the bonnet, 
 put it on his head, and looking Jhe 
 Laird full in the face, asked him, 
 with a voice which attracted the at- 
 tention of the Court and crowded 
 audience — " Look at me, sir, and tell 
 me, by the oath you have sworn — Am 
 not / the man who robbed you be- 
 tween Carsphairn and Dalmellington ?' ' 
 Bargally replied, in great astonish- 
 ment, " By Heaven ! you are the very 
 man," — "You see what sort of me- 
 mory this gentleman has," said the 
 volunteer pleader : "he swears to the 
 bonnet, whatever features are under 
 it. If you yourself, my Lord, will put 
 it on your head, he will be willing to 
 swear that your Lordship was the 
 party who robbed him between Cars- 
 phairn and Dalmellington." The/ 
 tenant of Bantoberick was unani- 
 mously acquitted, and thus Willie 
 Marshal ingeniously contrived to save 
 an innocent man from danger, with- 
 
 out incurring any himself, since Bar- 
 gally's evidence must have seemed to 
 every one too fluctuating to be relied 
 upon. 
 
 While the King of the Gipsies was 
 thus laudably occupied, his royal con- 
 sort, Flora, contrived, it is said, to 
 steal the hood from the Judge's gown ; 
 for which offence, combined with her 
 presumptive guilt»as a gipsy, she was 
 banished to New England, whence 
 she never returned. 
 
 Now, I cannot grant that the idea 
 of Meg Merrilies was, in the first con- 
 coction of the character, derived from 
 Flora Marshal, seeing I have already 
 said she was identified with Jean 
 Gordon, and as I have not the Laird 
 of Bargally's apology for charging the 
 same fact on two several individuals. 
 Yet I am quite content that Meg 
 should be considered as a representa- 
 tive of her sect and class in general — 
 Flora, as well as others. 
 
 The other instances in which my 
 Gallovidian readers have obliged me, 
 by assigning to 
 
 " airy nothing 
 
 A local habitation and a name," 
 shall also be sanctioned so far as the 
 Author may be entitled to do so. I 
 think the facetious Joe Miller records 
 a case pretty much in point ; where 
 the keeper of a Museum, while show- 
 ing, as he said, the very sword with 
 which Balaam was about to kill his 
 ass, was interrupted by one of the 
 vistors, who reminded him that Ba- 
 laam was not possessed of a sword, 
 but only wished for one. "True, 
 sir," replied the ready-witted Cice- 
 rone ; " but this is the very sword he 
 wished for." The Author, in appli- 
 cation of this story, has only to add, 
 that though ignorant of the coin- 
 cidence between the fictions of the 
 tale and some real circumstances, he 
 is contented to believe he must uncon- 
 sciously have thought or dreamed of 
 the last, while engaged in the com- 
 position of Guy Mannering. 
 
FRAGMENT OF A ROMANCE WHICH WAS TO HAVE BEEN ENTITLED, 
 THOMAS THE RHYMER. 
 
 The sun was nearly set behind the distant mountains of Liddes- 
 dale, when a few of the scattered and terrified inhabitants of the 
 village of Ercildoune, which had four days before been burned by a 
 predatory band of English Borderers, were now busied in repair- 
 ing their ruined dwellings. One high tower in the centre of the 
 village alone exhibited no appearance of devastation. It was sur- 
 rounded with court walls, and the outer gate was barred and bolted. 
 The bushes and brambles which grew around and had even in- 
 sinuated their branches beneath the gate, plainly showed that it 
 must have been many years since it had been opened. While the 
 cottages around lay in smoking ruins, this pile, deserted and deso- 
 late as it seemed to be, had suffered nothing from the violence of 
 the invaders ; and the wretched beings who were endeavouring to 
 repair their miserable huts against nightfall, seemed to neglect the 
 preferable shelter which it might have afforded them, without the 
 necessity of labour. 
 
 Before the day had quite gone down, a knight, richly armed, and 
 mounted upon an ambling hackney, rode slowly into the village. 
 His attendants were a lady, apparently young and beautiful, who 
 rode by his side upon a dappled palfrey ; his squire, who carried his 
 helmet and lance, and led his battle-horse, a noble steed, richly 
 caparisoned. A page and four yeomen, bearing bows and quivers, 
 short swords, and targets of a span breadth, completed his equip- 
 age, which, though small, denoted him to be a man of high rank. 
 
 He stopped and addressed several of the inhabitants whom 
 curiosity had withdrawn from their labour to gaze at him ; but at 
 the sound of his voice, and still more on perceiving the St. George's 
 Cross in the caps of his followers, they fled, with a loud cry, " that 
 the Southrons were returned." The knight endeavoured to expos- 
 tulate with the fugitives, who were chiefly aged men, women, and 
 children ; but their dread of the English name accelerated their 
 flight, and in a few minutes, excepting the knight and his attendants, 
 the place was deserted by all. He paced through the village to 
 seek a shelter for the night, and despairing to find one either in the 
 inaccessible tower, or the plundered huts of the peasantry, he di- 
 rected his course to the left hand, where he spied a small decent 
 habitation, apparently the abode of a man considerably above the 
 common rank. After much knocking, the proprietor at length 
 showed himself at the window, and speaking in the English dialect, 
 with great signs of apprehension, demanded their business. The 
 warrior replied, that his quality was an English knight and baron, 
 
THOMAS THE RHYMER ; fiY SIR W. SCOTT. 39I 
 
 and that he was travelling to the court of the King of Scotland on 
 affairs of consequence to both kingdoms. 
 
 " Pardon my hesitation, noble Sir Knight," said the old man, as 
 he unbolted and unbarred his doors — " pardon my hesitation, but 
 we are here exposed to too many intrusions, to admit of our exer- 
 cising unlimited and unsuspicious hospitality. What I have is 
 yours ; and God send your mission may bring back peace and the 
 good days of our old Queen Margaret ! " 
 
 " Amen, worthy Franklin," quoth the Knight— "Did youknowher?" 
 
 " I came to this country in her train," said the Franklin ; " and 
 the care of some of her jointure lands, which she devolved on me, 
 occasioned my settling here." 
 
 " And how do you, being an Englishman," said the Knight, 
 " protect your life and property here, when one of your nation can- 
 not obtain a single night's lodging, or a draught of water, were he 
 thirsty?" 
 
 " Marry, noble sir," answered the Franklin, " use, as they say, 
 will make a man live in a lion's den ; and as I settled here in a 
 quiet time, and have never given cause of offence, I am respected by 
 my neighbours, and even, as you see, by ovxforayers from England." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it," and accept your hospitality. — Isabella, my 
 love, our worthy host will provide you a bed. My daughter, good 
 Franklin, is ill at ease. We will occupy your house till the Scottish 
 King shall return from his northern expedition — meanwhile call me 
 Lord Lacy of Chester. 
 
 The attendants of the Baron, assisted by the Franklin, were now 
 busied in disposing of the horses, and arranging the table for some 
 refreshment for Lord Lacy and his fair companion. While they 
 sat down to it, they were attended by their host and his daughter, 
 whom custom did not permit to eat in their presence, and who 
 afterwards withdrew to an outer chamber, where the squire and 
 page, (both young men of noble birth) partook of supper, and were 
 accommodated with beds. The yeomen, after doing honour to the 
 rustic cheer of Queen Margaret's bailiff, withdrew to the stable, 
 and each, beside his favourite horse, snored away the fatigues of 
 their journey. 
 
 Early on the following morning, the travellers were roused by a 
 thundering knocking at the door of the house, accompanied with 
 many demands for instant admission, in the roughest tone. The 
 squire and page of Lord Lacy, after buckling on their arms, were 
 about to sally out to chastise these intruders, when the old host, 
 after looking out at a private casement, contrived for reconnoitring 
 his visitors, entreated them, with- great signs of terror, to be quiet, 
 if they did not mean that all in the house should be murdered. 
 
" 392 THOMAS THE RHYMER ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 
 
 He then hastened to the apartment of Lord Lacy, whom he met 
 dressed in a long furred gown and the knightly cap called a. mor- 
 tier, irritated at the noise, and demanding to know the cause which 
 had disturbed the repose of the household. 
 
 " Noble sir," said the Franklin, " one of the most formidable and 
 bloody of the Scottish Border riders is at hand — he is never seen," 
 added he, faltering with terror, " so far from the hills, but with 
 some bad purpose, and the power of accomplishing it ; so hold 
 yourself to your guard, for " 
 
 A loud crash here announced that the door was broken down, 
 and the knight just descended the stair in time to prevent blood- 
 shed betwixt his attendants and the intruders. They were three 
 in number — their chief was tall, bony, athletic ; his spare and mus- 
 cular frame, as well as the hardness of his features, marked the 
 course of his life to have been fatiguing and perilous. The effect 
 of his appearance was aggravated by his dress, which consisted 
 of a jack or jacket, composed of thick buff leather, on which small 
 plates of iron of a lozenge form were stitched, in such a manner as 
 to overlap each other, and form a coat of mail, which swayed with 
 every motion of the wearer's body. This defensive armour, covered 
 a doublet of coarse grey cloth, and the Borderer had a few half- 
 rusted plates of steel on his shoulders, a two-edged sword, with a 
 dagger hanging beside it, in a buff belt ; — a helmet, with a few iron 
 bars, to cover the face instead of a visor, and a lance of tremendous 
 and uncommon length, completed his appointments. The looks of 
 the man were as wild and rude as his attire — his keen black eyes 
 never rested one moment fixed upon a single object, but constantly 
 traversed all around, as if they ever sought some danger to oppose, 
 some plunder to seize, or some insult to revenge. The latter 
 seemed to be his present objcet, for, regardless of the dignified pre- 
 sence of Lord Lacy, he uttered the most incoherent threats against 
 the owner of the house and his guests. 
 
 " We shall see — ay, marry shall we — if an English hound is to 
 harbour and reset the Southrons here. Thank the Abbot of Mel- 
 rose and the good Knight of Coldingknowe, that have so long 
 kept me from your skirts. But those days are gone, by St. Mary, 
 and you shall find it ! " 
 
 It is probable the enraged Borderer would not have long con- 
 tinued to vent his rage in empty menaces, had not the entrance of 
 the four yeomen, with their bows bent, convinced him that the 
 force was not at this moment on his own side. 
 
 Lord Lacy now advanced towards him. " You intrude upon my 
 privacy, soldier; withdraw yourself and your followers— there is peace 
 betwixt our nations, or my servants should chastise thypresumption." 
 
THOMAS THE RHYMER ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 393 
 
 '* Such peace as we give, such shall you have," answered the 
 moss-trooper, first pointing with his lance towards the burned vil- 
 lage, and then almost instantly levelling it against Lord Lacy. The 
 squire drew his sword, and severed at one blow the steel" head from 
 the truncheon of the spear. 
 
 " Arthur Fitzherbert," said the Baron, " that stroke has deferred 
 thy knighthood for one year — never must that squire wear the 
 spurs, whose unbridled impetuosity can draw unbidden his sword 
 in the presence of his master. Go hence, and think on what I 
 have said." The squire left the chamber abashed. 
 
 " It were vain," continued Lord Lacy, " to expect that courtesy 
 from a mountain churl which even my own followers can forget. 
 Yet, before thou drawest thy brand (for the intruder laid his hand 
 upon the hilt of his sword), thou wilt do well to reflect that I 
 came with a safe-conduct from thy king, and have no time to waste 
 in brawls with such as thou." 
 
 " From my king — from my king-! " re-echoed the mountaineer. 
 B I care not that rotten truncheon (striking the shattered spear 
 furiously on the ground) for the King of Fife and Lothian. But 
 Habby of Cessford will be here belive ; and we shall soon know 
 if he will permit an English churl to occupy his hostelrie." 
 
 Having uttered these words, accompanied with a lowering glance 
 from under his shaggy black eyebrows, he turned on his heel, and 
 left the house with his two followers ; — they mounted their horses, 
 which they had tied to an outer fence, and vanished in an 
 instant. 
 
 '• Who is this discourteous ruffian ? " said Lord Lacy to the 
 Franklin, who had stood in the most violent agitation during this 
 whole scene. 
 
 " His name, noble lord, is Adam Kerr of the Moat, but he' is 
 commonly called by his companions the Black Rider of Cheviot. 
 I fear, I fear he comes hither for no good — but if the Lord of Cess- 
 ford be near, he will not dare offer any unprovoked outrage." 
 
 " I have heard of that chief," said the Baron — " let me know 
 when he approaches, and do thou, Rodolph (to the eldest yeoman), 
 keep a strict watch. Adelbert (to the page), attend to arm me." 
 The page bowed, and the Baron withdrew to the chamber of the 
 Lady Isabella, to explain the cause of the disturbance. 
 ***** 
 
 No more of the proposed tale was ever written ; but the author's 
 purpose was, that it should turn upon a fine legend of superstition, 
 which is current in the part of the Borders where he had his 
 residence ; where, in the reign of Alexander/Ill. of Scotland, that 
 renowned person Thomas of Ercildoune, called the Rhymer, ac- 
 
394 THOMAS THE RHYMER ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 
 
 tually flourished. This personage, the Merlin of Scotland, and to 
 whom some of the adventures which the British bards assigned to 
 Merlin Caledonius, or the Wild, have been transferred by tradi- 
 tion, was, as is well known, a magician as well as a poet and pro- 
 phet. He is alleged still to live in the land of Faery, and is ex- 
 pected to return at some great convulsion of society, in which he 
 is to act a distinguished part ; a tradition common to all nations, 
 as the belief of the Mahomedans respecting their twelfth Imaum 
 demonstrates. 
 
 Now, it chanced many years since, that there lived on the Bor- 
 ders a jolly, rattling horse-cowper, who was remarkable for a reck- 
 less and fearless temper, which made him much admired, and a 
 little dreaded, amongst his neighbours. One moonlight night, as he 
 rode over Bowden Moor, on the west side of the Eildon Hills, the 
 scene of Thomas the Rhymer's prophecies, and often mentioned in 
 his story, having a brace of horses along with him which he had 
 not been able to dispose of, he met a man of venerable appearance, 
 and singularly antique dress, who, to his great surprise, asked the 
 price of his horses, and began to chaffer with him on the subject. 
 To Canobie Dick, for so we shall call our Border dealer, a chap 
 was a chap, and he would have sold a horse to the devil himself, 
 without minding his cloven hoof, and would have probably cheated 
 Old Nick into the bargain. The stranger paid the price they 
 agreed on, and all that puzzled Dick in the transaction was; that 
 the gold which he received was in unicorns, bonnet-pieces, and other 
 ancient coins, which would have been invaluable to collectors, but 
 were rather troublesome in modern currency. It was gold, how- 
 ever, and therefore Dick contrived to get better value for the coin, 
 than he perhaps gave to his customer. By the command of so good 
 a merchant, he brought horses to the same spot more than once ; 
 the purchaser only stipulating that he should always come by night, 
 and alone. I do not know whether it was from mere curiosity, or 
 whether some hope of gain mixed with it, but after Dick had sold 
 several horses in this way, he began to complain that dry bargains 
 were unlucky, and to hint, that since his chap must live in the 
 neighbourhood, he ought, in the courtesy of dealing, to treat him 
 to half a mutchkin. 
 
 " You may see my dwelling if you will," said the stranger ; " but 
 if you lose courage at what you see there, you will rue it all your life." 
 
 Dicken, however, laughed the warning to scorn, and having 
 alighted to secure his horse, he followed the stranger up a narrow 
 foot-path, which led them up the hills to the singular eminence 
 stuck betwixt the most southern and the centre peaks, and called, 
 from its resemblance to such an animal in its form, the Lucken 
 
THOMAS THE RHYMER ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 39s 
 
 Hare. At the foot of this eminence, which is almost as famous 
 for witch meetings as the neighbouring wind-mill of Kippilaw, Dick 
 was somewhat startled to observe that his conductor entered the 
 hill side by a passage or cavern, of which he himself, though 'well 
 acquainted with the spot, had never seen or heard. 
 
 " You may still return," said his guide, looking ominously back 
 upon him ; but Dick scorned to show the white feather, and on 
 they went. They entered a very long range of stables ; in every 
 stall stood a coal-black horse ; by every horse lay a knight in coal- 
 black armour, with a drawn sword in his hand ; but all were as 
 silent, hoof and limb, as if they had been cut out of marble. A great 
 number of torches lent a gloomy lustre to the hall, which, like those 
 of the Caliph Vathek, was of large dimensions. At the upper end, 
 however, they at length arrived, where a sword and horn lay on an 
 antique table. 
 
 "He that shall sound that horn and draw that sword," said the 
 stranger, who now intimated that he was the famous Thomas of 
 Ercildoune, " shall, if his heart fail him not, be king over all 
 broad Britain. So speaks the tongue thatjcannot lie. All depends 
 on courage, and much on your taking the sword or the horn first." 
 
 Dick was much disposed to take the sword, but his bold spirit 
 was quailed by the supernatural terrors of the hall, and he thought 
 to unsheath the sword first, might be construed into defiance, and 
 give offence to the powers of the Mountain. He took the bugle 
 with a trembling hand, and a feeble note, but loud enough to pro- 
 duce a terrible answer. Thunder rolled in stunning peals through 
 the immense hall ; horses and men started to life ; the steeds 
 snorted, stamped, grinded their bits, and tossed on high their 
 heads — the warriors sprung to their feet, clashed their armour, and 
 brandished their swords. Dick's terror was extreme at seeing the 
 whole army, which had been so lately silent as the grave, in uproar, 
 and about to rush on him. He dropped the horn, and made a 
 feeble attempt to seize the enchanted sword ; but at the same 
 moment a voice pronounced aloud the mysterious words :— 
 
 " Woe to the coward, that ever he was born, 
 Who did not draw the sword before he blew the horn ! " 
 
 At the same time a whirlwind of irresistible fury howled through 
 the long hall, bore the unfortunate horse-jockey clear out of the 
 mouth of the cavern, and precipitated him over a steep bank of 
 loose stones, where the shepherds found him the next morning, 
 with just breath sufficient to tell his fearful tale, after concluding 
 which he expired. 
 
 This legend, with several variations, is found in many parts of 
 
396 THE LORD OF ENNERDALE ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 
 
 Scotland and England — the scene is sometimes laid in some 
 favourite glen of the Highlands, sometimes in the deep coal-mines 
 of Northumberland and Cumberland, which run so far beneath the 
 ocean. It is also to be found in Reginald Scott's book on Witch- 
 craft, which was written in the 16th century. It would be in vain 
 to ask what was the origin of the tradition. The choice between 
 the horn and sword may, perhaps, include as a moral, that it is 
 fool-hardy to awaken danger before we have arms in our hands to 
 resist it. 
 
 Although admitting of much poetical ornament, it is clear that 
 this legend would have formed but an unhappy foundation for a 
 prose story, and must have degenerated into a mere fairy tale. Dr. 
 John Leyden has beautifully introduced the tradition in his Scenes 
 of Infancy : 
 
 Mysterious Rhymer, doom'd by fate's decree, 
 
 Still to revisit Eildon's fated tree ; 
 
 Where oft the swain, at dawn of Hallow-day, 
 
 Hears thy fleet barb with wild impatience neigh ; 
 
 Say who is he, with summons long and high, 
 
 Shall bid the charmed sleep of ages fly, 
 
 Roll the long sound through Eildon's caverns vast, 
 
 While each dark warrior kindles at the blast ? 
 
 The horn, the falchion grasp with mighty hand, 
 
 And peal proud Arthur's march from Fairy-land. 
 
 Scenes of Infancy, Part I. 
 
 In the same cabinet with the preceding fragment, the following 
 occurred among other disjecta membra. It seems to be an attempt 
 at a tale of a different description from the last, but was almost 
 instantly abandoned. The introduction points out the time of the 
 composition to have been about the end of the 18th century. 
 
 THE LORD OF ENNERDALE. 
 
 IN A FRAGMENT OF A LETTER FROM JOHN B , ESQ., OF 
 
 THAT ILK, TO WILLIAM G , F.R.S.E. 
 
 " Fill a bumper," said the Knight ; " the ladies may spare us a 
 little longer — Fill a bumper to the Archduke Charles." 
 
 The company did due honour to the toast of their landlord. 
 
 '■' The success of the Archduke," said the muddy Vicar, " will 
 tend to further our negotiation at Paris ; and if" 
 
 " Pardon the interruption, Doctor," quoth a thin emaciated 
 figure, with somewhat of a foreign accent ; " but why should you 
 connect those events unless to hope that the bravery and victories of 
 our allies may supersede the necessity of a degrading treaty ? " 
 
THE LORD OF ENNERDALE ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 397 
 
 "We begin to feel, Monsieur L'Abbd," answered the Vicar, with 
 some asperity, " that a continental war entered into for the defence 
 of an ally who was unwilling to defend himself, and for the restora- 
 tion of a royal family, nobility, and priesthood, who tamely aban- 
 doned their own rights, is a burden too much even for the resources 
 of this country." 
 
 "And was the war then on the part of Great Britain?" rejoined 
 the Abbe", " a gratuitous exertion of generosity ? Was there no 
 fear of the wide-wasting spirit of innovation which had gone 
 abroad ? Did not the laity tremble for their property, the clergy 
 for their religion, and every loyal heart for the constitution? Was 
 it not thought necessary to destroy the building which was on fire, 
 ere the conflagration spread around the vicinity?" 
 
 " Yet, if upon trial," said the Doctor, " the walls were found to 
 resist our utmost efforts, I see no great prudence in persevering in 
 our labour amid the smouldering ruins." 
 
 " What, Doctor," said the Baronet, " must I call to your recol- 
 lection your own sermon on the late general fast ? — did you not 
 encourage us to hope that the Lord of Hosts would go forth with 
 our armies, and that our enemies, who blasphemed him, should be 
 put to shame? " 
 
 " It may please a kind father to chasten even his beloved chil- 
 dren," answered the Vicar. 
 
 " I think," said a gentleman near the foot of the table, " that the 
 Covenanters made some apology of the same kind for the failure of 
 their prophecies at the battle of Dunbar, when their mutinous 
 preachers compelled the prudent Lesley to go down against the 
 Philistines in Gilgal." 
 
 The Vicar fixed a scrutinizing and not a very complacent eye 
 upon this intruder. He was a young man of mean stature, and 
 rather a reserved appearance. Early and severe study had quenched 
 in his features the gaiety peculiar to his age, and impressed upon 
 them a premature cast of thoughtfulness. His eye had, however, 
 retained its fire, and his gesture its animation. Had he remained 
 silent, he would have been long unnoticed ; but when he spoke, 
 there was something in his manner which arrested attention. 
 
 " Who is this young man ? " said the Vicar, in a low voice, to his 
 neighbour. 
 
 " A Scotchman called Maxwell, on a visit to Sir Henry, was the 
 answer. 
 
 " I thought so, from his accent and his manners," said the Vicar. 
 
 It may be here observed, that the Northern English retain rather 
 more of the ancient hereditary aversion to their neighbours than 
 their countrymen of the South. The interference of other dispu- 
 
398 THE LORD OF ENNERDALE ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 
 
 tants, each of whom urged his opinion with all the vehemence of 
 wine and politics, rendered the summons to the drawing-room 
 agreeable to the more sober part of the company. 
 
 The company dispered by degrees, and at length the Vicar and 
 the young Scotchman alone remained, besides the Baronet, his 
 lady, daughters, and myself. The clergyman had not, it would 
 seem, forgot the observation which ranked him with the false pro- 
 phets of Dunbar, for he addressed Mr. Maxwell upon the first 
 opportunity. 
 
 " Hem ! I think, sir, you mentioned something about the civil 
 wars of last century ? You must be deeply skilled in them indeed, 
 if you can draw any parallel betwixt those and the present evil days 
 — days which I am ready to maintain are the most gloomy that 
 ever darkened the prospects of Britain." 
 
 " God forbid, Doctor, that I should draw a comparison between 
 the present times and those you mention. I am too sensible of the 
 advantages we enjoy over our ancestors. Faction and ambition 
 have introduced division among us ; but we are still free from the 
 guilt of civil bloodshed, and from all the evils which flow from it. 
 Our foes, sir, are not those of our own household ; and while we 
 continue united and firm, from the attacks of a foreign enemy, how- 
 ever hurtful, or however inveterate, we have, I hope, little to dread." 
 
 " Have you found anything curious, Mr. Maxwell, among the 
 dusty papers ? " said Sir Henry, who seemed to dread a revival of 
 political discussion. 
 
 " My investigation amongst them led to reflections which I 
 have just now hinted," said Maxwell ; and I think they are pretty 
 strongly exemplified by a story which I have been endeavouring to 
 arrange from some of your family manuscripts." 
 
 " You are welcome to make what use of them you please," said 
 Sir Henry ; " they have been undisturbed for many a day, and I 
 have often wished for some person as well skilled as you in these 
 old pot-hooks, to tell me their meaning." 
 
 " Those I just mentioned," answered Mavwell, " relate to a piece 
 of private history, savouring not a little of the marvellous,- and inti- 
 mately connected with your family : if it is agreeable, I can read to 
 you the anecdotes, in the modern shape into which I have been 
 endeavouring to throw them, and you can then judge of the value 
 of the originals." 
 
 There was something in this proposal agreeable to all parties. 
 Sir Henry had family pride, which prepared him to take an inte- 
 rest in whatever related to his ancestors. The ladies had dipped 
 deeply into the fashionable reading of the present day. Lady Rat- 
 cliff and her fair daughters had climbed every pass, viewed every 
 
THE LORD OF ENNERDALE ; BV SIR W. SCOTT. 399 
 
 pine-shrouded ruin, heard every groan, and lifted every trap-door, 
 in company with the noted heroine of Udolpho. They had been 
 heard, however, to observe, that the famous incident of the Black 
 Veil singularly resembled the ancient apologue of the Mountain in 
 labour, so that they were unquestionably critics, as well as admirers. 
 Besides all this, they had valorously mounted en croupe behind the 
 ghostly horseman of Prague, through all his seven translators, and 
 followed the footsteps of Moor through the forest of Bohemia. 
 Moreover, it was even hinted (but this was a greater mystery than 
 all the rest), that a certain performance called the Monk, in 
 three neat volumes, had been seen, by a prying-eye, in the right- 
 hand drawer of the Indian cabinet of Lady Ratcliff's dressing room. 
 Thus predisposed for wonders and signs, Lady Ratclifif and her 
 nymphs drew their chairs round a large blazing wood-fire, and 
 arranged themselves to listen to the tale. To that fire I also 
 approached, moved thereunto partly by the inclemency of the 
 season, and partly that my deafness, which you know, cousin, I 
 acquired during my campaign under Prince Charles Edward, might 
 be no obstacle to the gratification of my curiosity, which was 
 awakened by what had any reference to the fate of such faithful fol- 
 lowers of royalty, as you well knowthe house ofRatcliff has ever been. 
 To this wood-fire the Vicar likewise drew near, and reclined himself 
 conveniently in his chair, seemingly disposed to testify his disre- 
 spect for the narration and narrator by falling asleep as soon as he 
 conveniently could. By the side of Maxwell (by the way, I cannot 
 learn that he is in the least related to the Nithsdale family) was 
 placed a small table and a couple of lights, by the assistance of 
 which he read as follows : — 
 
 "Journal of Jan Von Eulen. 
 " On the 6th Nov., 1645, I, Jan Von Eulen, merchant in Rotter- 
 dam, embarked with my only daughter on board of the good vessel 
 Vryheid of Amsterdam, in order to pass into the unhappy and dis- 
 turbed kingdom of England. 7th Nov. — a brisk gale — daughter 
 sea-sick — myself unable to complete the calculation which I have 
 begun, of the inheritance left by Jane Lansache of Carlisle, my late 
 dear wife's sister, the collection of which is the object of my voyage. 
 8th Nov., wind still stormy and adverse— a horrid disaster nearly 
 happened — my dear child washed overboard as the vessel lurched 
 to leeward. — Memorandum, to reward the young sailor who saved 
 her, out of the first moneys which I can recover from the inherit- 
 ance of her aunt Lansache. — 9th Nov., calm — P.M. light breezes 
 from N.N.W. I talked with the captain about the inheritance of 
 my sister-in-law, Jane Lansache, — He says he knows the principal 
 
400 THE LORD OF ENNERDALE ; BY SIR W. SCOTT. 
 
 subject, which will not exceed iooo/. in value. N.B. He is a 
 cousin to a family of Petersons, which was the name of the husband 
 of my sister-in-law ; so there is room to hope it may be worth more 
 than he reports. — loth Nov., 10 A.M. May God pardon all our sins 
 — An English frigate, bearing the Parliament has flag, appeared in 
 the offing, and gives chase. — 1 1 a.m. She nears us every moment, 
 and the captain of our vessel prepares to clear for action. — May 
 God again have mercy upon us ! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 " Here," said Maxwell, " the journal with which I have opened 
 the narration ends somewhat abruptly." 
 
 " But, Mr. Maxwell," said young Frank, Sir Henry's grand- 
 child, " shall we not hear how the battle ended ? " 
 
 " No, my dear," said Maxwell, in answerto young Frank Ratcliff — 
 " No, my dear, I cannot tell you the exact particulars of the engage- 
 ment, but its consequences appear from the following letter, dis- 
 patched by Garbonete Von Eulen, daughter of our journalist to a 
 relation in England, from whom she implored assistance. After 
 some general account of the purpose of the voyage, and of the 
 engagement, her narrative proceeds thus : — 
 
 " The noise of the cannon had hardly ceased, before the sounds of 
 a language to me but half known, and the confusion on board our 
 vessel, informed me that the captors had boarded us, and taken 
 possession of our vessel. I went on deck, where the first spectacle 
 that met my eyes was a young man, mate of our vessel, who, though 
 disfigured and covered with blood, was loaded with irons, and whom 
 they were forcing over the side of the vessel into a boat. The two 
 principal persons among our enemies appeared to be a man of a 
 tall thin figure, with a high-crowned hat and long neckband, and 
 short-cropped head of hair, accompanied by a bluff open-looking 
 elderly man in a naval uniform. ' Yarely ! yarely ! pull away, my 
 hearts ! ' said the latter, and the boat bearing the unlucky young 
 man soon carried him on board the frigate. Perhaps you will 
 blame me for mentioning this circumstance ; but consider, my dear 
 cousin, this man saved my life, and^his fate, even when my own 
 and my father's were in the balance, could not but affect me nearly. 
 
 " ' In the name of him who is jealous, even to slaying,' said the 
 
 first" 
 
 # * * * # 
 
 Cetera desunt. 
 THE END. 
 
 BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARfl. 
 
A. .1 J 
 
 ■ 
 
 $**