Guy Mannering; or, The Astrologer — Complete

by Walter Scott

  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 mussel, Or lampit shell

  BURNS.

  During the period of Mr. Bertram's active magistracy, he did not forgetthe affairs of the revenue. Smuggling, for which the Isle of Man thenafforded peculiar facilities, was general, or rather universal, all alongthe southwestern coast of Scotland. Almost all the common people wereengaged in these practices; the gentry connived at them, and the officersof the revenue were frequently discountenanced in the exercise of theirduty by those who should have protected them.

  There was at this period, employed as a riding-officer or supervisor, inthat part of the country a certain Francis Kennedy, already named in ournarrative--a stout, resolute, and active man, who had made seizures to agreat amount, and was proportionally hated by those who had an interestin the fair trade, as they called the pursuit of these contrabandadventurers. This person was natural son to a gentleman of good family,owing to which circumstance, and to his being of a jolly, convivialdisposition, and singing a good song, he was admitted to the occasionalsociety of the gentlemen of the country, and was a member of several oftheir clubs for practising athletic games, at which he was particularlyexpert.

  At Ellangowan Kennedy was a frequent and always an acceptable guest. Hisvivacity relieved Mr. Bertram of the trouble of thought, and the labourwhich it cost him to support a detailed communication of ideas; while thedaring and dangerous exploits which he had undertaken in the discharge ofhis office formed excellent conversation. To all these revenue adventuresdid the Laird of Ellangowan seriously incline, and the amusement which hederived from Kennedy's society formed an excellent reason forcountenancing and assisting the narrator in the execution of hisinvidious and hazardous duty.

  'Frank Kennedy,' he said, 'was a gentleman, though on the wrang side ofthe blanket; he was connected with the family of Ellangowan through thehouse of Glengubble. The last Laird of Glengubble would have brought theestate into the Ellangowan line; but, happening to go to Harrigate, hethere met with Miss Jean Hadaway--by the by, the Green Dragon atHarrigate is the best house of the twa--but for Frank Kennedy, he's inone sense a gentleman born, and it's a shame not to support him againstthese blackguard smugglers.'

  After this league had taken place between judgment and execution, itchanced that Captain Dirk Hatteraick had landed a cargo of spirits andother contraband goods upon the beach not far from Ellangowan, and,confiding in the indifference with which the Laird had formerly regardedsimilar infractions of the law, he was neither very anxious to concealnor to expedite the transaction. The consequence was that Mr. FrankKennedy, armed with a warrant from Ellangowan, and supported by some ofthe 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 thebroad arrow upon the articles, and bearing them off in triumph to thenext custom-house. Dirk Hatteraick vowed, in Dutch, German, and English,a deep and full revenge, both against the gauger and his abettors; andall who knew him thought it likely he would keep his word.

  A few days after the departure of the gipsy tribe, Mr. Bertram asked hislady one morning at breakfast whether this was not little Harry'sbirthday.

  'Five years auld exactly, this blessed day,' answered the lady; 'so wemay look into the English gentleman's paper.'

  Mr. Bertram liked to show his authority in trifles. 'No, my dear, nottill to-morrow. The last time I was at quarter-sessions the sheriff toldus that DIES--that dies inceptus--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 Whitsundaywould kill Martinmas and be hanged for the murder; for there I have got aletter about that interest of Jenny Cairns's, and deil a tenant's been atthe Place yet wi' a boddle of rent, nor will not till Candlemas. But,speaking of Frank Kennedy, I daresay he'll be here the day, for he wasaway round to Wigton to warn a king's ship that's lying in the bay aboutDirk Hatteraick's lugger being on the coast again, and he'll be back thisday; so we'll have a bottle of claret and drink little Harry's health.'

  'I wish,' replied the lady, 'Frank Kennedy would let Dirk Hatteraickalane. What needs he make himself mair busy than other folk? Cannot hesing his sang, and take his drink, and draw his salary, like CollectorSnail, 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 orbrandy frae the borough-town when Dirk Hatteraick used to come quietlyinto the bay?'

  'Mrs. Bertram, you know nothing of these matters. Do you think it becomesa magistrate to let his own house be made a receptacle for smuggledgoods? Frank Kennedy will show you the penalties in the act, and ye kenyoursell they used to put their run goods into the Auld Place ofEllangowan 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 whin kegs o' brandy in them at an orra time?I am sure ye were not obliged to ken ony thing about it; and what thewaur was the King that the lairds here got a soup o' drink and the ladiestheir drap o' tea at a reasonable rate?--it's a shame to them to pit suchtaxes on them!--and was na I much the better of these Flanders head andpinners that Dirk Hatteraick sent me a' the way from Antwerp? It will belang or the King sends me ony thing, or Frank Kennedy either. And then yewould quarrel with these gipsies too! I expect every day to hear thebarnyard's in a low.'

  'I tell you once more, my dear, you don't understand these things--andthere's Frank Kennedy coming galloping up the avenue.'

  'Aweel! aweel! Ellangowan,' said the lady, raising her voice as the Lairdleft the room, 'I wish ye may understand them yoursell, that's a'!'

  From this nuptial dialogue the Laird joyfully escaped to meet hisfaithful friend, Mr. Kennedy, who arrived in high spirits. 'For the loveof life, Ellangowan,' he said, 'get up to the castle! you'll see that oldfox Dirk Hatteraick, and his Majesty's hounds in full cry after him.' Sosaying, he flung his horse's bridle to a boy, and ran up the ascent tothe old castle, followed by the Laird, and indeed by several others ofthe family, alarmed by the sound of guns from the sea, now distinctlyheard.

  On gaining that part of the ruins which commanded the most extensiveoutlook, they saw a lugger, with all her canvass crowded, standing acrossthe bay, closely pursued by a sloop of war, that kept firing upon thechase from her bows, which the lugger returned with her stern-chasers.'They're but at long bowls yet,' cried Kennedy, in great exultation, 'butthey will be closer by and by. D--n him, he's starting his cargo! I seethe good Nantz pitching overboard, keg after keg! That's a d--d ungenteelthing 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 tohim! Now, my dogs! now, my dogs! Hark to Ranger, hark!'

  'I think,' said the old gardener to one of the maids, 'the ganger's fie,'by which word the common people express those violent spirits which theythink a presage of death.

  Meantime the chase continued. The lugger, being piloted with greatability, and using every nautical shift to make her escape, had nowreached, and was about to double, the headland which formed the extremepoint of land on the left side of the bay, when a ball having hit theyard in the slings, the mainsail fell upon the deck. The consequence ofthis accident appeared inevitable, but could not be seen by thespectators; for the vessel, which had just doubled the headland, loststeerage, and fell out of their sight behind the promontory. The sloop ofwar crowded all sail to pursue, but she had stood too close upon thecape, so that they were obliged to wear the vessel for fear of goingashore, and to make a large tack back into the bay, in order to recoversea-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 sooften mentioned), and make them a signal where she has drifted to on theother side. Good-bye for an hour, Ellangowan; get out the gallonpunch-bowl and plenty of lemons. I'll stand for the French article by thetime I come back, and we'll drink the young Laird's health in a bowl thatwould swim the collector's yawl.' So saying, he mounted his horse andgalloped off.

  About a mile from the house, and upon the verge of the woods, which, aswe have said, covered a promontory terminating in the cape called thePoint of Warroch, Kennedy met young Harry Bertram, attended by his tutor,Dominie Sampson. He had often promised the child a ride upon hisgalloway; and, from singing, dancing, and playing Punch for hisamusement, was a particular favourite. He no sooner came scampering upthe path, than the boy loudly claimed his promise; and Kennedy, who sawno risk, in indulging him, and wished to tease the Dominie, in whosevisage he read a remonstrance, caught up Harry from the ground, placedhim before him, and continued his route; Sampson's 'Peradventure, MasterKennedy-' being lost in the clatter of his horse's feet. The pedagoguehesitated a moment whether he should go after them; but Kennedy being aperson in full confidence of the family, and with whom he himself had nodelight in associating, 'being that he was addicted unto profane andscurrilous jests,' he continued his own walk at his own pace, till hereached the Place of Ellangowan.

  The spectators from the ruined walls of the castle were still watchingthe sloop of war, which at length, but not without the loss ofconsiderable time, recovered sea-room enough to weather the Point ofWarroch, and was lost to their sight behind that wooded promontory. Sometime afterwards the discharges of several cannon were heard at adistance, and, after an interval, a still louder explosion, as of avessel blown up, and a cloud of smoke rose above the trees and mingledwith the blue sky. All then separated on their different occasions,auguring variously upon the fate of the smuggler, but the majorityinsisting that her capture was inevitable, if she had not already gone tothe 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; 'perhaps he isbringing some of the officers of the sloop with him.'

  'My stars, Mr. Bertram! why did not ye tell me this before, that we mighthave 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 yourdinner. And then I wad have put on another gown, and ye wadna have beenthe waur o' a clean neck-cloth yoursell. But ye delight in surprising andhurrying one. I am sure I am no to baud out for ever against this sort ofgoing on; but when folk's missed, then they are moaned.'

  'Pshaw, pshaw! deuce take the beef, and the gown, and table, and theneck-cloth! we shall do all very well. Where's the Dominie, John? (to aservant who was busy about the table) where's the Dominie and littleHarry?'

  'Mr. Sampson's been at hame these twa hours and mair, but I dinna thinkMr. Harry cam hame wi' him.'

  'Not come hame wi' him?' said the lady; 'desire Mr. Sampson to step thisway directly.'

  'Mr. Sampson,' said she, upon his entrance, 'is it not the mostextraordinary thing in this world wide, that you, that have freeup-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 orthree hours?'

  Sampson made a bow of humble acknowledgment at each pause which the angrylady made in her enumeration of the advantages of his situation, in orderto give more weight to her remonstrance, and then, in words which we willnot do him the injustice to imitate, told how Mr. Francis Kennedy 'hadassumed spontaneously the charge of Master Harry, in despite of hisremonstrances in the contrary.'

  'I am very little obliged to Mr. Francis Kennedy for his pains,' said thelady, peevishly; 'suppose he lets the boy drop from his horse, and lameshim? or suppose one of the cannons comes ashore and kills him? orsuppose--'

  'Or suppose, my dear,' said Ellangowan, 'what is much more likely thananything else, that they have gone aboard the sloop or the prize, and areto come round the Point with the tide?'

  'And then they may be drowned,' said the lady.

  'Verily,' said Sampson, 'I thought Mr. Kennedy had returned an hoursince. Of a surety I deemed I heard his horse's feet.'

  'That,' said John, with a broad grin, 'was Grizzel chasing the humble-cowout of the close.'

  Sampson coloured up to the eyes, not at the implied taunt, which he wouldnever have discovered, or resented if he had, but at some idea whichcrossed his own mind. 'I have been in an error,' he said; 'of a surety Ishould have tarried for the babe.' So saying, he snatched his bone-headedcane and hat, and hurried away towards Warroch wood faster than he wasever known to walk before or after.

  The Laird lingered some time, debating the point with the lady. At lengthhe saw the sloop of war again make her appearance; but, withoutapproaching the shore, she stood away to the westward with all her sailsset, and was soon out of sight. The lady's state of timorous and fretfulapprehension was so habitual that her fears went for nothing with herlord and master; but an appearance of disturbance and anxiety among theservants now excited his alarm, especially when he was called out of theroom, and told in private that Mr. Kennedy's horse had come to the stabledoor alone, with the saddle turned round below its belly and the reins ofthe bridle broken; and that a farmer had informed them in passing thatthere was a smuggling lugger burning like a furnace on the other side ofthe Point of Warroch, and that, though he had come through the wood, hehad seen or heard nothing of Kennedy or the young Laird, 'only there wasDominie Sampson gaun rampauging about like mad, seeking for them.'

  All was now bustle at Ellangowan. The Laird and his servants, male andfemale, hastened to the wood of Warroch. The tenants and cottagers in theneighbourhood lent their assistance, partly out of zeal, partly fromcuriosity. Boats were manned to search the sea-shore, which, on the otherside of the Point, rose into high and indented rocks. A vague suspicionwas entertained, though too horrible to be expressed, that the childmight have fallen from one of these cliffs.

  The evening had begun to close when the parties entered the wood, anddispersed different ways in quest of the boy and his companion. Thedarkening of the atmosphere, and the hoarse sighs of the November windthrough the naked trees, the rustling of the withered leaves whichstrewed the glades, the repeated halloos of the different parties, whichoften drew them together in expectation of meeting the objects of theirsearch, 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 concealment, yet it scarcely equalledthe anguish of the tutor. 'Would to God I had died for him!' theaffectionate creature repeated, in notes of the deepest distress. Thosewho were less interested rushed into a tumultuary discussion of chancesand possibilities. Each gave his opinion, and each was alternately swayedby that of the others. Some thought the objects of their search had goneaboard 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 fewplanks and beams of which the tide now drifted ashore.

  At this instant a shout was heard from the beach, so loud, so shrill, sopiercing, so different from every sound which the woods that day had rungto, that nobody hesitated a moment to believe that it conveyed tidings,and tidings of dreadful import. All hurried to the place, and, venturingwithout scruple upon paths which at another time they would haveshuddered to look at, descended towards a cleft of the rock, where oneboat's crew was already landed. 'Here, sirs, here! this way, for God'ssake! this way! this way!' was the reiterated cry. Ellangowan brokethrough the throng which had already assembled at the fatal spot, andbeheld the object of their terror. It was the dead body of Kennedy. Atfirst sight he seemed to have perished by a fall from the rocks, whichrose above the spot on which he lay in a perpendicular p
recipice of ahundred feet above the beach. The corpse was lying half in, half out ofthe water; the advancing tide, raising the arm and stirring the clothes,had given it at some distance the appearance of motion, so that those whofirst discovered the body thought that life remained. But every spark hadbeen long extinguished.

  'My bairn! my bairn!' cried the distracted father, 'where can he be?' Adozen mouths were opened to communicate hopes which no one felt. Some oneat length mentioned--the gipsies! In a moment Ellangowan had reascendedthe cliffs, flung himself upon the first horse he met, and rode furiouslyto the huts at Derncleugh. All was there dark and desolate; and, as hedismounted to make more minute search, he stumbled over fragments offurniture which had been thrown out of the cottages, and the broken woodand thatch which had been pulled down by his orders. At that moment theprophecy, or anathema, of Meg Merrilies fell heavy on his mind. 'You havestripped the thatch from seven cottages; see that the roof-tree of yourown house stand the surer!'

  'Restore,' he cried, 'restore my bairn! bring me back my son, and allshall be forgot and forgiven!' As he uttered these words in a sort offrenzy, his eye caught a glimmering of light in one of the dismantledcottages; 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 tornoff.

  He flew to the place; the entrance was bolted. Despair gave the miserablefather the strength of ten men; he rushed against the door with suchviolence that it gave way before the momentum of his weight and force.The cottage was empty, but bore marks of recent habitation: there wasfire on the hearth, a kettle, and some preparation for food. As heeagerly gazed around for something that might confirm his hope that hischild yet lived, although in the power of those strange people, a manentered the hut.

  It was his old gardener. 'O sir!' said the old man, 'such a night as thisI 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, haveye found Harry Bertram?'

  'No, sir; but-'

  'Then he is kidnapped! I am sure of it, Andrew! as sure as that I treadupon earth! She has stolen him; and I will never stir from this placetill I have tidings of my bairn!'

  'O, but ye maun come hame, sir! ye maun come hame! We have sent for theSheriff, and we'll seta watch here a' night, in case the gipsies return;but YOU--ye maun come hame, sir, for my lady's in the dead-thraw.'

  Bertram turned a stupefied and unmeaning eye on the messenger who utteredthis calamitous news; and, repeating the words 'in the dead-thraw!' as ifhe could not comprehend their meaning, suffered the old man to drag himtowards his horse. During the ride home he only said, 'Wife and bairnbaith--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 communicatedat Ellangowan, with the gratuitous addition, that, doubtless, 'he haddrawn the young Laird over the craig with him, though the tide had sweptaway the child's body; he was light, puir thing, and would flee fartherinto 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 hadrecovered his agitated faculties, so as to comprehend the full distressof his situation, he was the father of a female infant, and a widower.