第 五十一 章 · INTRIGUES OF LOVE AND POLITICS

. INTRIGUES OF LOVE AND POLITICS

It is not necessary to record in these pages the triumphant entrance of

the Chevalier into Edinburgh after the decisive affair at Preston. One

circumstance, however, may be noticed, because it illustrates the high

spirit of Flora Mac-Ivor. The Highlanders by whom the Prince was

surrounded, in the license and extravagance of this joyful moment,

fired their pieces repeatedly, and one of these having been

accidentally loaded with ball, the bullet grazed the young lady’s

temple as she waved her handkerchief from a balcony.[36] Fergus, who

beheld the accident, was at her side in an instant; and, on seeing that

the wound was trifling, he drew his broadsword with the purpose of

rushing down upon the man by whose carelessness she had incurred so

much danger, when, holding him by the plaid, “Do not harm the poor

fellow,” she cried; “for Heaven’s sake, do not harm him! but thank God

with me that the accident happened to Flora Mac-Ivor; for had it

befallen a Whig, they would have pretended that the shot was fired on

purpose.”

Waverley escaped the alarm which this accident would have occasioned to

him, as he was unavoidably delayed by the necessity of accompanying

Colonel Talbot to Edinburgh.

They performed the journey together on horseback, and for some time, as

if to sound each other’s feelings and sentiments, they conversed upon

general and ordinary topics.

When Waverley again entered upon the subject which he had most at

heart, the situation, namely, of his father and his uncle, Colonel

Talbot seemed now rather desirous to alleviate than to aggravate his

anxiety. This appeared particularly to be the case when he heard

Waverley’s history, which he did not scruple to confide to him.

“And so,” said the Colonel, “there has been no malice prepense, as

lawyers, I think, term it, in this rash step of yours; and you have

been trepanned into the service of this Italian knight-errant by a few

civil speeches from him and one or two of his Highland recruiting

sergeants? It is sadly foolish, to be sure, but not nearly so bad as I

was led to expect. However, you cannot desert, even from the Pretender,

at the present moment; that seems impossible. But I have little doubt

that, in the dissensions incident to this heterogeneous mass of wild

and desperate men, some opportunity may arise, by availing yourself of

which you may extricate yourself honourably from your rash engagement

before the bubble burst. If this can be managed, I would have you go to

a place of safety in Flanders which I shall point out. And I think I

can secure your pardon from government after a few months’ residence

abroad.”

“I cannot permit you, Colonel Talbot,” answered Waverley, “to speak of

any plan which turns on my deserting an enterprise in which I may have

engaged hastily, but certainly voluntarily, and with the purpose of

abiding the issue.”

“Well,” said Colonel Talbot, smiling, “leave me my thoughts and hopes

at least at liberty, if not my speech. But have you never examined your

mysterious packet?”

“It is in my baggage,” replied Edward; “we shall find it in Edinburgh.”

In Edinburgh they soon arrived. Waverley’s quarters had been assigned

to him, by the Prince’s express orders, in a handsome lodging, where

there was accommodation for Colonel Talbot. His first business was to

examine his portmanteau, and, after a very short search, out tumbled

the expected packet. Waverley opened it eagerly. Under a blank cover,

simply addressed to E. Waverley, Esq., he found a number of open

letters. The uppermost were two from Colonel Gardiner addressed to

himself. The earliest in date was a kind and gentle remonstrance for

neglect of the writer’s advice respecting the disposal of his time

during his leave of absence, the renewal of which, he reminded Captain

Waverley, would speedily expire. “Indeed,” the letter proceeded, “had

it been otherwise, the news from abroad and my instructions from the

War Office must have compelled me to recall it, as there is great

danger, since the disaster in Flanders, both of foreign invasion and

insurrection among the disaffected at home. I therefore entreat you

will repair as soon as possible to the headquarters of the regiment;

and I am concerned to add that this is still the more necessary as

there is some discontent in your troop, and I postpone inquiry into

particulars until I can have the advantage of your assistance.”

The second letter, dated eight days later, was in such a style as might

have been expected from the Colonel’s receiving no answer to the first.

It reminded Waverley of his duty as a man of honour, an officer, and a

Briton; took notice of the increasing dissatisfaction of his men, and

that some of them had been heard to hint that their Captain encouraged

and approved of their mutinous behaviour; and, finally, the writer

expressed the utmost regret and surprise that he had not obeyed his

commands by repairing to headquarters, reminded him that his leave of

absence had been recalled, and conjured him, in a style in which

paternal remonstrance was mingled with military authority, to redeem

his error by immediately joining his regiment. “That I may be certain,”

concluded the letter, “that this actually reaches you, I despatch it by

Corporal Tims of your troop, with orders to deliver it into your own

hand.”

Upon reading these letters Waverley, with great bitterness of feeling,

was compelled to make the _amende honorable_ to the memory of the brave

and excellent writer; for surely, as Colonel Gardiner must have had

every reason to conclude they had come safely to hand, less could not

follow, on their being neglected, than that third and final summons,

which Waverley actually received at Glennaquoich, though too late to

obey it. And his being superseded, in consequence of his apparent

neglect of this last command, was so far from being a harsh or severe

proceeding, that it was plainly inevitable. The next letter he unfolded

was from the major of the regiment, acquainting him that a report to

the disadvantage of his reputation was public in the country, stating,

that one Mr. Falconer of Ballihopple, or some such name, had proposed

in his presence a treasonable toast, which he permitted to pass in

silence, although it was so gross an affront to the royal family that a

gentleman in company, not remarkable for his zeal for government, had

never-the-less taken the matter up, and that, supposing the account

true, Captain Waverley had thus suffered another, comparatively

unconcerned, to resent an affront directed against him personally as an

officer, and to go out with the person by whom it was offered. The

major concluded that no one of Captain Waverley’s brother officers

could believe this scandalous story, but that it was necessarily their

joint opinion that his own honour, equally with that of the regiment,

depended upon its being instantly contradicted by his authority, etc.

etc. etc.

“What do you think of all this?” said Colonel Talbot, to whom Waverley

handed the letters after he had perused them.

“Think! it renders thought impossible. It is enough to drive me mad.”

“Be calm, my young friend; let us see what are these dirty scrawls that

follow.”

The first was addressed,—

_For Master W. Ruffin, These._

“DEAR SUR, sum of our yong gulpins will not bite, thof I tuold them you

shoed me the squoire’s own seel. But Tims will deliver you the lettrs

as desired, and tell ould Addem he gave them to squoir’s hond, as to be

sure yours is the same, and shall be ready for signal, and hoy for Hoy

Church and Sachefrel, as fadur sings at harvestwhome.

Yours, deer Sur,

“H. H.

“Poscriff.—Do’e tell squoire we longs to heer from him, and has

dootings about his not writing himself, and Lifetenant Bottler is

smoky.”

“This Ruffin, I suppose, then, is your Donald of the Cavern, who has

intercepted your letters, and carried on a correspondence with the poor

devil Houghton, as if under your authority?”

“It seems too true. But who can Addem be?”

“Possibly Adam, for poor Gardiner, a sort of pun on his name.”

The other letters were to the same purpose; and they soon received yet

more complete light upon Donald Bean’s machinations.

John Hodges, one of Waverley’s servants, who had remained with the

regiment and had been taken at Preston, now made his appearance. He had

sought out his master with the purpose of again entering his service.

From this fellow they learned that some time after Waverley had gone

from the headquarters of the regiment, a pedlar, called Ruthven, Rufnn,

or Rivane, known among the soldiers by the name of Wily Will, had made

frequent visits to the town of Dundee. He appeared to possess plenty of

money, sold his commodities very cheap, seemed always willing to treat

his friends at the ale-house, and easily ingratiated himself with many

of Waverley’s troop, particularly Sergeant Houghton and one Tims, also

a non-commissioned officer. To these he unfolded, in Waverley’s name, a

plan for leaving the regiment and joining him in the Highlands, where

report said the clans had already taken arms in great numbers. The men,

who had been educated as Jacobites, so far as they had any opinion at

all, and who knew their landlord, Sir Everard, had always been supposed

to hold such tenets, easily fell into the snare. That Waverley was at a

distance in the Highlands was received as a sufficient excuse for

transmitting his letters through the medium of the pedlar; and the

sight of his well-known seal seemed to authenticate the negotiations in

his name, where writing might have been dangerous. The cabal, however,

began to take air, from the premature mutinous language of those

concerned. Wily Will justified his appellative; for, after suspicion

arose, he was seen no more. When the “Gazette” appeared in which

Waverley was superseded, great part of his troop broke out into actual

mutiny, but were surrounded and disarmed by the rest of the regiment.

In consequence of the sentence of a court-martial, Houghton and Tims

were condemned to be shot, but afterwards permitted to cast lots for

life. Houghton, the survivor, showed much penitence, being convinced,

from the rebukes and explanations of Colonel Gardiner, that he had

really engaged in a very heinous crime. It is remarkable that, as soon

as the poor fellow was satisfied of this, he became also convinced that

the instigator had acted without authority from Edward, saying, “If it

was dishonourable and against Old England, the squire could know nought

about it; he never did, or thought to do, anything dishonourable, no

more didn’t Sir Everard, nor none of them afore him, and in that belief

he would live and die that Ruffin had done it all of his own head.”

The strength of conviction with which he expressed himself upon this

subject, as well as his assurances that the letters intended for

Waverley had been delivered to Ruthven, made that revolution in Colonel

Gardiner’s opinion which he expressed to Talbot.

The reader has long since understood that Donald Bean Lean played the

part of tempter on this occasion. His motives were shortly these. Of an

active and intriguing spirit, he had been long employed as a subaltern

agent and spy by those in the confidence of the Chevalier, to an extent

beyond what was suspected even by Fergus Mac-Ivor, whom, though obliged

to him for protection, he regarded with fear and dislike. To success in

this political department he naturally looked for raising himself by

some bold stroke above his present hazardous and precarious trade of

rapine. He was particularly employed in learning the strength of the

regiments in Scotland, the character of the officers, etc., and had

long had his eye upon Waverley’s troop as open to temptation. Donald

even believed that Waverley himself was at bottom in the Stuart

interest, which seemed confirmed by his long visit to the Jacobite

Baron of Bradwardine. When, therefore, he came to his cave with one of

Glennaquoich’s attendants, the robber, who could never appreciate his

real motive, which was mere curiosity, was so sanguine as to hope that

his own talents were to be employed in some intrigue of consequence,

under the auspices of this wealthy young Englishman. Nor was he

undeceived by Waverley’s neglecting all hints and openings afforded for

explanation. His conduct passed for prudent reserve, and somewhat

piqued Donald Bean, who, supposing himself left out of a secret where

confidence promised to be advantageous, determined to have his share in

the drama, whether a regular part were assigned him or not. For this

purpose during Waverley’s sleep he possessed himself of his seal, as a

token to be used to any of the troopers whom he might discover to be

possessed of the captain’s confidence. His first journey to Dundee, the

town where the regiment was quartered, undeceived him in his original

supposition, but opened to him a new field of action. He knew there

would be no service so well rewarded by the friends of the Chevalier as

seducing a part of the regular army to his standard. For this purpose

he opened the machinations with which the reader is already acquainted,

and which form a clue to all the intricacies and obscurities of the

narrative previous to Waverley’s leaving Glennaquoich.

By Colonel Talbot’s advice, Waverley declined detaining in his service

the lad whose evidence had thrown additional light on these intrigues.

He represented to him, that it would be doing the man an injury to

engage him in a desperate undertaking, and that, whatever should

happen, his evidence would go some length at least in explaining the

circumstances under which Waverley himself had embarked in it. Waverley

therefore wrote a short state of what had happened to his uncle and his

father, cautioning them, however, in the present circumstances, not to

attempt to answer his letter. Talbot then gave the young man a letter

to the commander of one of the English vessels of war cruising in the

frith, requesting him to put the bearer ashore at Berwick, with a pass

to proceed to ——shire. He was then furnished with money to make an

expeditious journey, and directed to get on board the ship by means of

bribing a fishing-boat, which, as they afterwards learned, he easily

effected.

Tired of the attendance of Callum Beg, who, he thought, had some

disposition to act as a spy on his motions, Waverley hired as a servant

a simple Edinburgh swain, who had mounted the white cockade in a fit of

spleen and jealousy, because Jenny Jop had danced a whole night with

Corporal Bullock of the Fusileers.