Chương Chương 38 · A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE

. A NOCTURNAL ADVENTURE

There was a moment’s pause when the whole party had got out of the hut;

and the Highlander who assumed the command, and who, in Waverley’s

awakened recollection, seemed to be the same tall figure who had acted

as Donald Bean Lean’s lieutenant, by whispers and signs imposed the

strictest silence. He delivered to Edward a sword and steel pistol,

and, pointing up the track, laid his hand on the hilt of his own

claymore, as if to make him sensible they might have occasion to use

force to make good their passage. He then placed himself at the head of

the party, who moved up the pathway in single or Indian file, Waverley

being placed nearest to their leader. He moved with great precaution,

as if to avoid giving any alarm, and halted as soon as he came to the

verge of the ascent. Waverley was soon sensible of the reason, for he

heard at no great distance an English sentinel call out “All’s well.”

The heavy sound sunk on the night-wind down the woody glen, and was

answered by the echoes of its banks. A second, third, and fourth time

the signal was repeated fainter and fainter, as if at a greater and

greater distance. It was obvious that a party of soldiers were near,

and upon their guard, though not sufficiently so to detect men skilful

in every art of predatory warfare, like those with whom he now watched

their ineffectual precautions.

When these sounds had died upon the silence of the night, the

Highlanders began their march swiftly, yet with the most cautious

silence. Waverley had little time, or indeed disposition, for

observation, and could only discern that they passed at some distance

from a large building, in the windows of which a light or two yet

seemed to twinkle. A little farther on the leading Highlander snuffed

the wind like a setting spaniel, and then made a signal to his party

again to halt. He stooped down upon all fours, wrapped up in his plaid,

so as to be scarce distinguishable from the heathy ground on which he

moved, and advanced in this posture to reconnoitre. In a short time he

returned, and dismissed his attendants excepting one; and, intimating

to Waverley that he must imitate his cautious mode of proceeding, all

three crept forward on hands and knees.

After proceeding a greater way in this inconvenient manner than was at

all comfortable to his knees and shins, Waverley perceived the smell of

smoke, which probably had been much sooner distinguished by the more

acute nasal organs of his guide. It proceeded from the corner of a low

and ruinous sheep-fold, the walls of which were made of loose stones,

as is usual in Scotland. Close by this low wall the Highlander guided

Waverley, and, in order probably to make him sensible of his danger, or

perhaps to obtain the full credit of his own dexterity, he intimated to

him, by sign and example, that he might raise his head so as to peep

into the sheep-fold. Waverley did so, and beheld an outpost of four or

five soldiers lying by their watch-fire. They were all asleep except

the sentinel, who paced backwards and forwards with his firelock on his

shoulder, which glanced red in the light of the fire as he crossed and

re-crossed before it in his short walk, casting his eye frequently to

that part of the heavens from which the moon, hitherto obscured by

mist, seemed now about to make her appearance.

In the course of a minute or two, by one of those sudden changes of

atmosphere incident to a mountainous country, a breeze arose and swept

before it the clouds which had covered the horizon, and the night

planet poured her full effulgence upon a wide and blighted heath,

skirted indeed with copse-wood and stunted trees in the quarter from

which they had come, but open and bare to the observation of the

sentinel in that to which their course tended. The wall of the

sheep-fold indeed concealed them as they lay, but any advance beyond

its shelter seemed impossible without certain discovery.

The Highlander eyed the blue vault, but far from blessing the useful

light with Homer’s, or rather Pope’s benighted peasant, he muttered a

Gaelic curse upon the unseasonable splendour of _MacFarlane’s buat_

(_i.e._ lantern[26]). He looked anxiously around for a few minutes, and

then apparently took his resolution. Leaving his attendant with

Waverley, after motioning to Edward to remain quiet, and giving his

comrade directions in a brief whisper, he retreated, favoured by the

irregularity of the ground, in the same direction and in the same

manner as they had advanced. Edward, turning his head after him, could

perceive him crawling on all fours with the dexterity of an Indian,

availing himself of every bush and inequality to escape observation,

and never passing over the more exposed parts of his track until the

sentinel’s back was turned from him. At length he reached the thickets

and underwood which partly covered the moor in that direction, and

probably extended to the verge of the glen where Waverley had been so

long an inhabitant. The Highlander disappeared, but it was only for a

few minutes, for he suddenly issued forth from a different part of the

thicket, and, advancing boldly upon the open heath as if to invite

discovery, he levelled his piece and fired at the sentinel. A wound in

the arm proved a disagreeable interruption to the poor fellow’s

meteorological observations, as well as to the tune of “Nancy Dawson,”

which he was whistling. He returned the fire ineffectually, and his

comrades, starting up at the alarm, advanced alertly towards the spot

from which the first shot had issued. The Highlander, after giving them

a full view of his person, dived among the thickets, for his _ruse de

guerre_ had now perfectly succeeded.

While the soldiers pursued the cause of their disturbance in one

direction, Waverley, adopting the hint of his remaining attendant, made

the best of his speed in that which his guide originally intended to

pursue, and which now (the attention of the soldiers being drawn to a

different quarter) was unobserved and unguarded. When they had run

about a quarter of a mile, the brow of a rising ground which they had

surmounted concealed them from further risk of observation. They still

heard, however, at a distance the shouts of the soldiers as they

hallooed to each other upon the heath, and they could also hear the

distant roll of a drum beating to arms in the same direction. But these

hostile sounds were now far in their rear, and died away upon the

breeze as they rapidly proceeded.

When they had walked about half an hour, still along open and waste

ground of the same description, they came to the stump of an ancient

oak, which, from its relics, appeared to have been at one time a tree

of very large size. In an adjacent hollow they found several

Highlanders, with a horse or two. They had not joined them above a few

minutes, which Waverley’s attendant employed, in all probability, in

communicating the cause of their delay (for the words “Duncan Duroch”

were often repeated), when Duncan himself appeared, out of breath

indeed, and with all the symptoms of having run for his life, but

laughing, and in high spirits at the success of the stratagem by which

he had baffled his pursuers. This indeed Waverley could easily conceive

might be a matter of no great difficulty to the active mountaineer, who

was perfectly acquainted with the ground, and traced his course with a

firmness and confidence to which his pursuers must have been strangers.

The alarm which he excited seemed still to continue, for a dropping

shot or two were heard at a great distance, which seemed to serve as an

addition to the mirth of Duncan and his comrades.

The mountaineer now resumed the arms with which he had entrusted our

hero, giving him to understand that the dangers of the journey were

happily surmounted. Waverley was then mounted upon one of the horses, a

change which the fatigue of the night and his recent illness rendered

exceedingly acceptable. His portmanteau was placed on another pony,

Duncan mounted a third, and they set forward at a round pace,

accompanied by their escort. No other incident marked the course of

that night’s journey, and at the dawn of morning they attained the

banks of a rapid river. The country around was at once fertile and

romantic. Steep banks of wood were broken by corn-fields, which this

year presented an abundant harvest, already in a great measure cut

down.

On the opposite bank of the river, and partly surrounded by a winding

of its stream, stood a large and massive castle, the half-ruined

turrets of which were already glittering in the first rays of the

sun.[27] It was in form an oblong square, of size sufficient to contain

a large court in the centre. The towers at each angle of the square

rose higher than the walls of the building, and were in their turn

surmounted by turrets, differing in height and irregular in shape. Upon

one of these a sentinel watched, whose bonnet and plaid, streaming in

the wind, declared him to be a Highlander, as a broad white ensign,

which floated from another tower, announced that the garrison was held

by the insurgent adherents of the House of Stuart.

Passing hastily through a small and mean town, where their appearance

excited neither surprise nor curiosity in the few peasants whom the

labours of the harvest began to summon from their repose, the party

crossed an ancient and narrow bridge of several arches, and, turning to

the left up an avenue of huge old sycamores, Waverley found himself in

front of the gloomy yet picturesque structure which he had admired at a

distance. A huge iron-grated door, which formed the exterior defence of

the gateway, was already thrown back to receive them; and a second,

heavily constructed of oak and studded thickly with iron nails, being

next opened, admitted them into the interior court-yard. A gentleman,

dressed in the Highland garb and having a white cockade in his bonnet,

assisted Waverley to dismount from his horse, and with much courtesy

bid him welcome to the castle.

The governor, for so we must term him, having conducted Waverley to a

half-ruinous apartment, where, however, there was a small camp-bed, and

having offered him any refreshment which he desired, was then about to

leave him.

“Will you not add to your civilities,” said Waverley, after having made

the usual acknowledgment, “by having the kindness to inform me where I

am, and whether or not I am to consider myself as a prisoner?”

“I am not at liberty to be so explicit upon this subject as I could

wish. Briefly, however, you are in the Castle of Doune, in the district

of Menteith, and in no danger whatever.”

“And how am I assured of that?”

“By the honour of Donald Stewart, governor of the garrison, and

lieutenant-colonel in the service of his Royal Highness Prince Charles

Edward.” So saying, he hastily left the apartment, as if to avoid

further discussion.

Exhausted by the fatigues of the night, our hero now threw himself upon

the bed, and was in a few minutes fast asleep.