第 四十五 章 · AN INCIDENT GIVES RISE TO UNAVAILING REFLECTIONS

. AN INCIDENT GIVES RISE TO UNAVAILING REFLECTIONS

When Waverley reached that part of the column which was filled by the

clan of Mac-Ivor, they halted, formed, and received him with a

triumphant flourish upon the bagpipes and a loud shout of the men, most

of whom knew him personally, and were delighted to see him in the dress

of their country and of their sept. “You shout,” said a Highlander of a

neighbouring clan to Evan Dhu, “as if the Chieftain were just come to

your head.”

“Mar e Bran is e a brathair, (If it be not Bran, it is Bran’s

brother),” was the proverbial reply of Maccombich.[*]

[* Bran, the well-known dog of Fingal, is often the theme of Highland

proverb as well as song.]

“O, then, it is the handsome Sassenach Duinhé-wassel that is to be

married to Lady Flora?”

“That may be, or it may not be; and it is neither your matter nor mine,

Gregor.”

Fergus advanced to embrace the volunteer, and afford him a warm and

hearty welcome; but he thought it necessary to apologize for the

diminished numbers of his battalion (which did not exceed three hundred

men) by observing he had sent a good many out upon parties.

The real fact, however, was, that the defection of Donald Bean Lean had

deprived him of at least thirty hardy fellows, whose services he had

fully reckoned upon, and that many of his occasional adherents had been

recalled by their several chiefs to the standards to which they most

properly owed their allegiance. The rival chief of the great northern

branch, also, of his own clan had mustered his people, although he had

not yet declared either for the government or for the Chevalier, and by

his intrigues had in some degree diminished the force with which Fergus

took the field. To make amends for these disappointments, it was

universally admitted that the followers of Vich Ian Vohr, in point of

appearance, equipment, arms, and dexterity in using them, equalled the

most choice troops which followed the standard of Charles Edward. Old

Ballenkeiroch acted as his major; and, with the other officers who had

known Waverley when at Glennaquoich, gave our hero a cordial reception,

as the sharer of their future dangers and expected honours.

The route pursued by the Highland army, after leaving the village of

Duddingston, was for some time the common post-road betwixt Edinburgh

and Haddington, until they crossed the Esk at Musselburgh, when,

instead of keeping the low grounds towards the sea, they turned more

inland, and occupied the brow of the eminence called Carberry Hill, a

place already distinguished in Scottish history as the spot where the

lovely Mary surrendered herself to her insurgent subjects. This

direction was chosen because the Chevalier had received notice that the

army of the government, arriving by sea from Aberdeen, had landed at

Dunbar, and quartered the night before to the west of Haddington, with

the intention of falling down towards the sea-side, and approaching

Edinburgh by the lower coast-road. By keeping the height, which

overhung that road in many places, it was hoped the Highlanders might

find an opportunity of attacking them to advantage. The army therefore

halted upon the ridge of Carberry Hill, both to refresh the soldiers

and as a central situation from which their march could be directed to

any point that the motions of the enemy might render most advisable.

While they remained in this position a messenger arrived in haste to

desire Mac-Ivor to come to the Prince, adding that their advanced post

had had a skirmish with some of the enemy’s cavalry, and that the Baron

of Bradwardine had sent in a few prisoners.

Waverley walked forward out of the line to satisfy his curiosity, and

soon observed five or six of the troopers who, covered with dust, had

galloped in to announce that the enemy were in full march westward

along the coast. Passing still a little farther on, he was struck with

a groan which issued from a hovel. He approached the spot, and heard a

voice, in the provincial English of his native county, which

endeavoured, though frequently interrupted by pain, to repeat the

Lord’s Prayer. The voice of distress always found a ready answer in our

hero’s bosom. He entered the hovel, which seemed to be intended for

what is called, in the pastoral counties of Scotland, a smearing-house;

and in its obscurity Edward could only at first discern a sort of red

bundle; for those who had stripped the wounded man of his arms and part

of his clothes had left him the dragoon-cloak in which he was

enveloped.

“For the love of God,” said the wounded man, as he heard Waverley’s

step, “give me a single drop of water!”

“You shall have it,” answered Waverley, at the same time raising him in

his arms, bearing him to the door of the hut, and giving him some drink

from his flask.

“I should know that voice,” said the man; but looking on Waverley’s

dress with a bewildered look—“no, this is not the young squire!”

This was the common phrase by which Edward was distinguished on the

estate of Waverley-Honour, and the sound now thrilled to his heart with

the thousand recollections which the well-known accents of his native

country had already contributed to awaken. “Houghton!” he said, gazing

on the ghastly features which death was fast disfiguring, “can this be

you?”

“I never thought to hear an English voice again,” said the wounded man;

“they left me to live or die here as I could, when they found I would

say nothing about the strength of the regiment. But, O squire! how

could you stay from us so long, and let us be tempted by that fiend of

the pit, Ruffin? we should have followed you through flood and fire, to

be sure.”

“Ruffin! I assure you, Houghton, you have been vilely imposed upon.”

“I often thought so,” said Houghton, “though they showed us your very

seal; and so Tims was shot and I was reduced to the ranks.”

“Do not exhaust your strength in speaking,” said Edward; “I will get

you a surgeon presently.”

He saw Mac-Ivor approaching, who was now returning from headquarters,

where he had attended a council of war, and hastened to meet him.

“Brave news!” shouted the Chief; “we shall be at it in less than two

hours. The Prince has put himself at the head of the advance, and, as

he drew his sword, called out, “My friends, I have thrown away the

scabbard.” Come, Waverley, we move instantly.”

“A moment—a moment; this poor prisoner is dying; where shall I find a

surgeon?”

“Why, where should you? We have none, you know, but two or three French

fellows, who, I believe, are little better than _garçons

apothicaires_.”

“But the man will bleed to death.”

“Poor fellow!” said Fergus, in a momentary fit of compassion; then

instantly added, “But it will be a thousand men’s fate before night; so

come along.”

“I cannot; I tell you he is a son of a tenant of my uncle’s.”

“O, if he’s a follower of yours he must be looked to; I’ll send Callum

to you; but _diaoul! ceade millia molligheart_,” continued the

impatient Chieftain, “what made an old soldier like Bradwardine send

dying men here to cumber us?”

Callum came with his usual alertness; and, indeed, Waverley rather

gained than lost in the opinion of the Highlanders by his anxiety about

the wounded man. They would not have understood the general

philanthropy which rendered it almost impossible for Waverley to have

passed any person in such distress; but, as apprehending that the

sufferer was one of his _following_ they unanimously allowed that

Waverley’s conduct was that of a kind and considerate chieftain, who

merited the attachment of his people. In about a quarter of an hour

poor Humphrey breathed his last, praying his young master, when he

returned to Waverley-Honour, to be kind to old Job Houghton and his

dame, and conjuring him not to fight with these wild petticoat-men

against old England.

When his last breath was drawn, Waverley, who had beheld with sincere

sorrow, and no slight tinge of remorse, the final agonies of mortality,

now witnessed for the first time, commanded Callum to remove the body

into the hut. This the young Highlander performed, not without

examining the pockets of the defunct, which, however, he remarked had

been pretty well spunged. He took the cloak, however, and proceeding

with the provident caution of a spaniel hiding a bone, concealed it

among some furze and carefully marked the spot, observing that, if he

chanced to return that way, it would be an excellent rokelay for his

auld mother Elspat.

It was by a considerable exertion that they regained their place in the

marching column, which was now moving rapidly forward to occupy the

high grounds above the village of Tranent, between which and the sea

lay the purposed march of the opposite army.

This melancholy interview with his late sergeant forced many unavailing

and painful reflections upon Waverley’s mind. It was clear from the

confession of the man that Colonel Gardiner’s proceedings had been

strictly warranted, and even rendered indispensable, by the steps taken

in Edward’s name to induce the soldiers of his troop to mutiny. The

circumstance of the seal he now, for the first time, recollected, and

that he had lost it in the cavern of the robber, Bean Lean. That the

artful villain had secured it, and used it as the means of carrying on

an intrigue in the regiment for his own purposes, was sufficiently

evident; and Edward had now little doubt that in the packet placed in

his portmanteau by his daughter he should find farther light upon his

proceedings. In the meanwhile the repeated expostulation of

Houghton—“Ah, squire, why did you leave us?” rung like a knell in his

ears.

“Yes,” he said, “I have indeed acted towards you with thoughtless

cruelty. I brought you from your paternal fields, and the protection of

a generous and kind landlord, and when I had subjected you to all the

rigour of military discipline, I shunned to bear my own share of the

burden, and wandered from the duties I had undertaken, leaving alike

those whom it was my business to protect, and my own reputation, to

suffer under the artifices of villainy. O, indolence and indecision of

mind, if not in yourselves vices—to how much exquisite misery and

mischief do you frequently prepare the way!”