Waverley; Or 'Tis Sixty Years Since — Complete

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXIII

  WAVEELEY CONTINUES AT GLENNAQUOICH

  As Flora concluded her song, Fergus stood before them. 'I knew I shouldfind you here, even without the assistance of my friend Bran. A simpleand unsublimed taste now, like my own, would prefer a jet d'eau atVersailles to this cascade, with all its accompaniments of rock androar; but this is Flora's Parnassus, Captain Waverley, and thatfountain her Helicon. It would be greatly for the benefit of my cellarif she could teach her coadjutor, Mac-Murrough, the value of itsinfluence: he has just drunk a pint of usquebaugh to correct, he said,the coldness of the claret. Let me try its virtues.' He sipped a littlewater in the hollow of his hand, and immediately commenced, with atheatrical air,--

  'O Lady of the desert, hail! That lovest the harping of the Gael, Through fair and fertile regions borne, Where never yet grew grass or corn.

  But English poetry will never succeed under the influence of a HighlandHelicon. Allons, courage!

  O vous, qui buvez, a tasse pleine, A cette heureuse f ontaine, Ou on ne voit, sur le rivage, Que quelques vilains troupeaux, Suivis de nymphes de village, Qui les escortent sans sabots--'

  'A truce, dear Fergus! spare us those most tedious and insipid personsof all Arcadia. Do not, for Heaven's sake, bring down Coridon andLindor upon us.'

  'Nay, if you cannot relish la houlette et le chalumeau, have with youin heroic strains.'

  'Dear Fergus, you have certainly partaken of the inspiration ofMac-Murrough's cup rather than of mine.'

  'I disclaim it, ma belle demoiselle, although I protest it would be themore congenial of the two. Which of your crack-brained Italianromancers is it that says,

  Io d'Elicona niente Mi curo, in fe de Dio; che'l bere d'acque (Bea chi ber ne vuol) sempre mi spiacque!

  [Footnote:

  Good sooth, I reck nought of your Helicon; Drink water whoso will, in faith I will drink none.]

  But if you prefer the Gaelic, Captain Waverley, here is little Cathleenshall sing you Drimmindhu. Come, Cathleen, astore (i.e. my dear),begin; no apologies to the cean-kinne.'

  Cathleen sung with much liveliness a little Gaelic song, the burlesqueelegy of a countryman on the loss of his cow, the comic tones of which,though he did not understand the language, made Waverley laugh morethan once. [Footnote: This ancient Gaelic ditty is still well known,both in the Highlands and in Ireland It was translated into English,and published, if I mistake not, under the auspices of the facetiousTom D'Urfey, by the title of 'Colley, my Cow.']

  'Admirable, Cathleen!' cried the Chieftain; 'I must find you a handsomehusband among the clansmen one of these days.'

  Cathleen laughed, blushed, and sheltered herself behind her companion.

  In the progress of their return to the castle, the Chieftain warmlypressed Waverley to remain for a week or two, in order to see a grandhunting party, in which he and some other Highland gentlemen proposedto join. The charms of melody and beauty were too strongly impressed inEdward's breast to permit his declining an invitation so pleasing. Itwas agreed, therefore, that he should write a note to the Baron ofBradwardine, expressing his intention to stay a fortnight atGlennaquoich, and requesting him to forward by the bearer (a gilly ofthe Chieftain's) any letters which might have arrived for him.

  This turned the discourse upon the Baron, whom Fergus highly extolledas a gentleman and soldier. His character was touched with yet morediscrimination by Flora, who observed he was the very model of the oldScottish cavalier, with all his excellencies and peculiarities. 'It isa character, Captain Waverley, which is fast disappearing; for its bestpoint was a self-respect which was never lost sight of till now. But inthe present time the gentlemen whose principles do not permit them topay court to the existing government are neglected and degraded, andmany conduct themselves accordingly; and, like some of the persons youhave seen at Tully-Veolan, adopt habits and companions inconsistentwith their birth and breeding. The ruthless proscription of party seemsto degrade the victims whom it brands, however unjustly. But let ushope a brighter day is approaching, when a Scottish country gentlemanmay be a scholar without the pedantry of our friend the Baron, asportsman without the low habits of Mr. Falconer, and a judiciousimprover of his property without becoming a boorish two-legged steerlike Killancureit.'

  Thus did Flora prophesy a revolution, which time indeed has produced,but in a manner very different from what she had in her mind.

  The amiable Rose was next mentioned, with the warmest encomium on herperson, manners, and mind. 'That man,' said Flora, 'will find aninestimable treasure in the affections of Rose Bradwardine who shall beso fortunate as to become their object. Her very soul is in home, andin the discharge of all those quiet virtues of which home is thecentre. Her husband will be to her what her father now is, the objectof all her care, solicitude, and affection. She will see nothing, andconnect herself with nothing, but by him and through him. If he is aman of sense and virtue, she will sympathise in his sorrows, divert hisfatigue, and share his pleasures. If she becomes the property of achurlish or negligent husband, she will suit his taste also, for shewill not long survive his unkindness. And, alas! how great is thechance that some such unworthy lot may be that of my poor friend! Othat I were a queen this moment, and could command the most amiable andworthy youth of my kingdom to accept happiness with the hand of RoseBradwardine!'

  'I wish you would command her to accept mine en attendant,' saidFergus, laughing.

  I don't know by what caprice it was that this wish, however jocularlyexpressed, rather jarred on Edward's feelings, notwithstanding hisgrowing inclination to Flora and his indifference to Miss Bradwardine.This is one of the inexplicabilities of human nature, which we leavewithout comment.

  'Yours, brother?' answered Flora, regarding him steadily. 'No; you haveanother bride--Honour; and the dangers you must run in pursuit of herrival would break poor Rose's heart.'

  With this discourse they reached the castle, and Waverley soon preparedhis despatches for Tully-Veolan. As he knew the Baron was punctiliousin such matters, he was about to impress his billet with a seal onwhich his armorial bearings were engraved, but he did not find it athis watch, and thought he must have left it at Tully-Veolan. Hementioned his loss, borrowing at the same time the family seal of theChieftain.

  'Surely,' said Miss Mac-Ivor, 'Donald Bean Lean would not--'

  'My life for him in such circumstances,' answered her brother;'besides, he would never have left the watch behind.'

  'After all, Fergus,' said Flora, 'and with every allowance, I amsurprised you can countenance that man.'

  'I countenance him? This kind sister of mine would persuade you,Captain Waverley, that I take what the people of old used to call "asteakraid," that is, a "collop of the foray," or, in plainer words, aportion of the robber's booty, paid by him to the Laird, or Chief,through whose grounds he drove his prey. O, it is certain that, unlessI can find some way to charm Flora's tongue, General Blakeney will senda sergeant's party from Stirling (this he said with haughty andemphatic irony) to seize Vich lan Vohr, as they nickname me, in his owncastle.'

  'Now, Fergus, must not our guest be sensible that all this is folly andaffectation? You have men enough to serve you without enlistingbanditti, and your own honour is above taint. Why don't you send thisDonald Bean Lean, whom I hate for his smoothness and duplicity evenmore than for his rapine, out of your country at once? No cause shouldinduce me to tolerate such a character.'

  'No cause, Flora?' said the Chieftain significantly.

  'No cause, Fergus! not even that which is nearest to my heart. Spare itthe omen of such evil supporters!'

  'O but, sister,' rejoined the Chief gaily, 'you don't consider myrespect for la belle passion. Evan Dhu Maccombich is in love withDonald's daughter, Alice, and you cannot expect me to disturb him inhis amours. Why, the whole clan would cry shame on me. You know it isone of their wise sayings, that a kinsman is part of a man's body, buta foster-brother
is a piece of his heart.'

  'Well, Fergus, there is no disputing with you; but I would all this mayend well.'

  'Devoutly prayed, my dear and prophetic sister, and the best way in theworld to close a dubious argument. But hear ye not the pipes, CaptainWaverley? Perhaps you will like better to dance to them in the hallthan to be deafened with their harmony without taking part in theexercise they invite us to.'

  Waverley took Flora's hand. The dance, song, and merry-makingproceeded, and closed the day's entertainment at the castle of Vich IanVohr. Edward at length retired, his mind agitated by a variety of newand conflicting feelings, which detained him from rest for some time,in that not unpleasing state of mind in which fancy takes the helm, andthe soul rather drifts passively along with the rapid and confused tideof reflections than exerts itself to encounter, systematise, or examinethem. At a late hour he fell asleep, and dreamed of Flora Mac-Ivor.