by Walter Scott
The hint of the hospitable farmer was not lost on Brown. But while hepaid his reckoning he could not avoid repeatedly fixing his eyes on MegMerrilies. She was in all respects the same witch-like figure as when wefirst introduced her at Ellangowan Place. Time had grizzled her ravenlocks and added wrinkles to her wild features, but her height remainederect, and her activity was unimpaired. It was remarked of this woman, asof others of the same description, that a life of action, though not oflabour, gave her the perfect command of her limbs and figure, so that theattitudes into which she most naturally threw herself were free,unconstrained, and picturesque. At present she stood by the window of thecottage, her person drawn up so as to show to full advantage hermasculine stature, and her head somewhat thrown back, that the largebonnet with which her face was shrouded might not interrupt her steadygaze at Brown. At every gesture he made and every tone he uttered sheseemed to give an almost imperceptible start. On his part, he wassurprised to find that he could not look upon this singular figurewithout some emotion. 'Have I dreamed of such a figure?' he said tohimself, 'or does this wild and singular-looking woman recall to myrecollection some of the strange figures I have seen in our Indianpagodas?'
While he embarrassed himself with these discussions, and the hostess wasengaged in rummaging out silver in change of half-a-guinea, the gipsysuddenly made two strides and seized Brown's hand. He expected, ofcourse, a display of her skill in palmistry, but she seemed agitated byother feelings.
'Tell me,' she said, 'tell me, in the name of God, young man, what isyour name, and whence you came?'
'My name is Brown, mother, and I come from the East Indies.'
'From the East Indies!' dropping his hand with a sigh; 'it cannot bethen. I am such an auld fool, that everything I look on seems the thing Iwant maist to see. But the East Indies! that cannot be. Weel, be what yewill, ye hae a face and a tongue that puts me in mind of auld times. Goodday; make haste on your road, and if ye see ony of our folk, meddle notand make not, and they'll do you nae harm.'
Brown, who had by this time received his change, put a shilling into herhand, bade his hostess farewell, and, taking the route which the farmerhad gone before, walked briskly on, with the advantage of being guided bythe fresh hoof-prints of his horse. Meg Merrilies looked after him forsome time, and then muttered to herself, 'I maun see that lad again; andI maun gang back to Ellangowan too. The Laird's dead! aweel, death paysa' scores; he was a kind man ance. The Sheriff's flitted, and I can keepcanny in the bush; so there's no muckle hazard o' scouring thecramp-ring. I would like to see bonny Ellangowan again or I die.'
Brown meanwhile proceeded northward at a round pace along the moorishtract called the Waste of Cumberland. He passed a solitary house, towardswhich the horseman who preceded him had apparently turned up, for hishorse's tread was evident in that direction. A little farther, he seemedto have returned again into the road. Mr. Dinmont had probably made avisit there either of business or pleasure. 'I wish,' thought Brown, 'thegood farmer had staid till I came up; I should not have been sorry to askhim a few questions about the road, which seems to grow wilder andwilder.'
In truth, nature, as if she had designed this tract of country to be thebarrier between two hostile nations, has stamped upon it a character ofwildness and desolation. The hills are neither high nor rocky, but theland is all heath and morass; the huts poor and mean, and at a greatdistance from each other. Immediately around them there is generally somelittle attempt at cultivation; but a half-bred foal or two, stragglingabout with shackles on their hind legs, to save the trouble ofinclosures, intimate the farmer's chief resource to be the breeding ofhorses. The people, too, are of a ruder and more inhospitable class thanare elsewhere to be found in Cumberland, arising partly from their ownhabits, partly from their intermixture with vagrants and criminals, whomake this wild country a refuge from justice. So much were the men ofthese districts in early times the objects of suspicion and dislike totheir more polished neighbours, that there was, and perhaps still exists,a by-law of the corporation of Newcastle prohibiting any freeman of thatcity to take for apprentice a native of certain of these dales. It ispithily said, 'Give a dog an ill name and hang him'; and it may be added,if you give a man, or race of men, an ill name they are very likely to dosomething that deserves hanging. Of this Brown had heard something, andsuspected more, from the discourse between the landlady, Dinmont, and thegipsy; but he was naturally of a fearless disposition, had nothing abouthim that could tempt the spoiler, and trusted to get through the Wastewith daylight. In this last particular, however, he was likely to bedisappointed. The way proved longer than he had anticipated, and thehorizon began to grow gloomy just as he entered upon an extensive morass.
Choosing his steps with care and deliberation, the young officerproceeded along a path that sometimes sunk between two broken black banksof moss earth, sometimes crossed narrow but deep ravines filled with aconsistence between mud and water, and sometimes along heaps of graveland stones, which had been swept together when some torrent or waterspoutfrom the neighbouring hills overflowed the marshy ground below. He beganto ponder how a horseman could make his way through such broken ground;the traces of hoofs, however, were still visible; he even thought heheard their sound at some distance, and, convinced that Mr. Dinmont'sprogress through the morass must be still slower than his own, heresolved to push on, in hopes to overtake him and have the benefit of hisknowledge of the country. At this moment his little terrier sprungforward, barking most furiously.
Brown quickened his pace, and, attaining the summit of a small risingground, saw the subject of the dog's alarm. In a hollow about a gunshotbelow him a man whom he easily recognised to be Dinmont was engaged withtwo others in a desperate struggle. He was dismounted, and defendinghimself as he best could with the butt of his heavy whip. Our travellerhastened on to his assistance; but ere he could get up a stroke hadlevelled the farmer with the earth, and one of the robbers, improving hisvictory, struck him some merciless blows on the head. The other villain,hastening to meet Brown, called to his companion to come along, 'for thatone's CONTENT,' meaning, probably, past resistance or complaint. Oneruffian was armed with a cutlass, the other with a bludgeon; but as theroad was pretty narrow, 'bar fire-arms,' thought Brown, 'and I may managethem well enough.' They met accordingly, with the most murderous threatson the part of the ruffians. They soon found, however, that their newopponent was equally stout and resolute; and, after exchanging two orthree blows, one of them told him to 'follow his nose over the heath, inthe devil's name, for they had nothing to say to him.'
Brown rejected this composition as leaving to their mercy the unfortunateman whom they were about to pillage, if not to murder outright; and theskirmish had just recommenced when Dinmont unexpectedly recovered hissenses, his feet, and his weapon, and hastened to the scene of action. Ashe had been no easy antagonist, even when surprised and alone, thevillains did not choose to wait his joining forces with a man who hadsingly proved a match for them both, but fled across the bog as fast astheir feet could carry them, pursued by Wasp, who had acted gloriouslyduring the skirmish, annoying the heels of the enemy, and repeatedlyeffecting a moment's diversion in his master's favour.
'Deil, but your dog's weel entered wi' the vermin now, sir!' were thefirst words uttered by the jolly farmer as he came up, his head streamingwith blood, and recognised his deliverer and his little attendant.
'I hope, sir, you are not hurt dangerously?'
'O, deil a bit, my head can stand a gay clour; nae thanks to them,though, and mony to you. But now, hinney, ye maun help me to catch thebeast, and ye maun get on behind me, for we maun off like whittretsbefore the whole clanjamfray be doun upon us; the rest o' them will no befar off.' The galloway was, by good fortune, easily caught, and Brownmade some apology for overloading the animal.
'Deil a fear, man,' answered the proprietor; 'Dumple could carry sixfolk, if his back was lang eneugh; but God's sake, haste ye, get on, forI see some folk coming through the slack yonder tha
t it may be just asweel no to wait for.'
Brown was of opinion that this apparition of five or six men, with whomthe other villains seemed to join company, coming across the moss towardsthem, should abridge ceremony; he therefore mounted Dumple en croupe, andthe little spirited nag cantered away with two men of great size andstrength as if they had been children of six years old. The rider, towhom the paths of these wilds seemed intimately known, pushed on at arapid pace, managing with much dexterity to choose the safest route, inwhich he was aided by the sagacity of the galloway, who never failed totake the difficult passes exactly at the particular spot, and in thespecial manner, by which they could be most safely crossed. Yet, evenwith these advantages, the road was so broken, and they were so oftenthrown out of the direct course by various impediments, that they did notgain much on their pursuers. 'Never mind,' said the undaunted Scotchmanto his companion, 'if we were ance by Withershins' Latch, the road's nonear sae soft, and we'll show them fair play for't.'
They soon came to the place he named, a narrow channel, through whichsoaked, rather than flowed, a small stagnant stream, mantled over withbright green mosses. Dinmont directed his steed towards a pass where thewater appeared to flow with more freedom over a harder bottom; but Dumplebacked from the proposed crossing-place, put his head down as if toreconnoitre the swamp more nearly, stretching forward his fore-feet, andstood as fast as if he had been cut out of stone.
'Had we not better,' said Brown, 'dismount, and leave him to his fate; orcan you not urge him through the swamp?'
'Na, na,' said his pilot, 'we maun cross Dumple at no rate, he has mairsense than mony a Christian.' So saying, he relaxed the reins, and shookthem loosely. 'Come now, lad, take your ain way o't, let's see whereye'll take us through.'
Dumple, left to the freedom of his own will, trotted briskly to anotherpart of the latch, less promising, as Brown thought, in appearance, butwhich the animal's sagacity or experience recommended as the safer of thetwo, and where, plunging in, he attained the other side with littledifficulty.
'I'm glad we're out o' that moss,' said Dinmont, 'where there's mairstables for horses than change-houses for men; we have the Maiden-way tohelp us now, at ony rate.' Accordingly, they speedily gained a sort ofrugged causeway so called, being the remains of an old Roman road whichtraverses these wild regions in a due northerly direction. Here they goton at the rate of nine or ten miles an hour, Dumple seeking no otherrespite than what arose from changing his pace from canter to trot. 'Icould gar him show mair action,' said his master, 'but we are twalang-legged chields after a', and it would be a pity to stress Dumple;there wasna the like o' him at Staneshiebank Fair the day.'
Brown readily assented to the propriety of sparing the horse, and addedthat, as they were now far out of the reach of the rogues, he thought Mr.Dintnont had better tie a handkerchief round his head, for fear of thecold frosty air aggravating the wound.
'What would I do that for?' answered the hardy farmer; 'the best way's tolet the blood barken upon the cut; that saves plasters, hinney.'
Brown, who in his military profession had seen a great many hard blowspass, could not help remarking, 'he had never known such severe strokesreceived with so much apparent indifference.'
'Hout tout, man! I would never be making a humdudgeon about a scart onthe pow; but we'll be in Scotland in five minutes now, and ye maun gangup to Charlie's Hope wi' me, that's a clear case.'
Brown readily accepted the offered hospitality. Night was now fallingwhen they came in sight of a pretty river winding its way through apastoral country. The hills were greener and more abrupt than those whichBrown had lately passed, sinking their grassy sides at once upon theriver. They had no pretensions to magnificence of height, or to romanticshapes, nor did their smooth swelling slopes exhibit either rocks orwoods. Yet the view was wild, solitary, and pleasingly rural. Noinclosures, no roads, almost no tillage; it seemed a land which apatriarch would have chosen to feed his flocks and herds. The remains ofhere and there a dismantled and ruined tower showed that it had onceharboured beings of a very different description from its presentinhabitants; those freebooters, namely, to whose exploits the warsbetween England and Scotland bear witness.
Descending by a path towards a well-known ford, Dumple crossed the smallriver, and then, quickening his pace, trotted about a mile briskly up itsbanks, and approached two or three low thatched houses, placed with theirangles to each other, with a great contempt of regularity. This was thefarm-steading of Charlie's Hope, or, in the language of the country, 'thetown.' A most furious barking was set up at their approach by the wholethree generations of Mustard and Pepper, and a number of allies, namesunknown. The farmer [Footnote: See Note 3.] made his well-known voicelustily heard to restore order; the door opened, and a half-dressedewe-milker, who had done that good office, shut it in their faces, inorder that she might run 'ben the house' to cry 'Mistress, mistress, it'sthe master, and another man wi' him.' Dumple, turned loose, walked to hisown stable-door, and there pawed and whinnied for admission, in strainswhich were answered by his acquaintances from the interior. Amid thisbustle Brown was fain to secure Wasp from the other dogs, who, withardour corresponding more to their own names than to the hospitabletemper of their owner, were much disposed to use the intruder roughly.
In about a minute a stout labourer was patting Dumple, and introducinghim into the stable, while Mrs. Dinmont, a well-favoured buxom dame,welcomed her husband with unfeigned rapture. 'Eh, sirs! gudeman, ye haebeen a weary while away!'