Guy Mannering, Or, the Astrologer — Complete

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XLI

  Yes ye moss-green walls, Ye towers defenceless, I revisit ye Shame-stricken! Where are all your trophies now? Your thronged courts, the revelry, the tumult, That spoke the grandeur of my house, the homage Of neighbouring barons?

  Mysterious Mother.

  Entering the castle of Ellangowan by a postern doorway which showedsymptoms of having been once secured with the most jealous care, Brown(whom, since he has set foot upon the property of his fathers, we shallhereafter call by his father's name of Bertram) wandered from oneruined apartment to another, surprised at the massive strength of someparts of the building, the rude and impressive magnificence of others,and the great extent of the whole. In two of these rooms, close besideeach other, he saw signs of recent habitation. In one small apartmentwere empty bottles, half-gnawed bones, and dried fragments of bread. Inthe vault which adjoined, and which was defended by a strong door, thenleft open, he observed a considerable quantity of straw, and in bothwere the relics of recent fires. How little was it possible for Bertramto conceive that such trivial circumstances were closely connected withincidents affecting his prosperity, his honour, perhaps his life!

  After satisfying his curiosity by a hasty glance through the interiorof the castle, Bertram now advanced through the great gateway whichopened to the land, and paused to look upon the noble landscape whichit commanded. Having in vain endeavoured to guess the position ofWoodbourne, and having nearly ascertained that of Kippletringan, heturned to take a parting look at the stately ruins which he had justtraversed. He admired the massive and picturesque effect of the hugeround towers, which, flanking the gateway, gave a double portion ofdepth and majesty to the high yet gloomy arch under which it opened.The carved stone escutcheon of the ancient family, bearing for theirarms three wolves' heads, was hung diagonally beneath the helmet andcrest, the latter being a wolf couchant pierced with an arrow. Oneither side stood as supporters, in full human size or larger, asalvage man PROPER, to use the language of heraldry, WREATHED ANDCINCTURED, and holding in his hand an oak tree ERADICATED, that is,torn up by the roots.

  'And the powerful barons who owned this blazonry,' thought Bertram,pursuing the usual train of ideas which flows upon the mind at suchscenes--'do their posterity continue to possess the lands which theyhad laboured to fortify so strongly? or are they wanderers, ignorantperhaps even of the fame or power of their fore-fathers, while theirhereditary possessions are held by a race of strangers? Why is it,' hethought, continuing to follow out the succession of ideas which thescene prompted--'why is it that some scenes awaken thoughts whichbelong as it were to dreams of early and shadowy recollection, such asmy old Brahmin moonshie would have ascribed to a state of previousexistence? Is it the visions of our sleep that float confusedly in ourmemory, and are recalled by the appearance of such real objects as inany respect correspond to the phantoms they presented to ourimagination? How often do we find ourselves in society which we havenever before met, and yet feel impressed with a mysterious andill-defined consciousness that neither the scene, the speakers, nor thesubject are entirely new; nay, feel as if we could anticipate that partof the conversation which has not yet taken place! It is even so withme while I gaze upon that ruin; nor can I divest myself of the ideathat these massive towers and that dark gateway, retiring through itsdeep-vaulted and ribbed arches, and dimly lighted by the courtyardbeyond, are not entirely strange to me. Can it be that they have beenfamiliar to me in infancy, and that I am to seek in their vicinitythose friends of whom my childhood has still a tender though faintremembrance, and whom I early exchanged for such severe task-masters?Yet Brown, who, I think, would not have deceived me, always told me Iwas brought off from the eastern coast, after a skirmish in which myfather was killed; and I do remember enough of a horrid scene ofviolence to strengthen his account.'

  It happened that the spot upon which young Bertram chanced to stationhimself for the better viewing the castle was nearly the same on whichhis father had died. It was marked by a large old oak-tree, the onlyone on the esplanade, and which, having been used for executions by thebarons of Ellangowan, was called the Justice Tree. It chanced, and thecoincidence was remarkable, that Glossin was this morning engaged witha person whom he was in the habit of consulting in such mattersconcerning some projected repairs and a large addition to the house ofEllangowan, and that, having no great pleasure in remains so intimatelyconnected with the grandeur of the former inhabitants, he had resolvedto use the stones of the ruinous castle in his new edifice. Accordinglyhe came up the bank, followed by the land-surveyor mentioned on aformer occasion, who was also in the habit of acting as a sort ofarchitect in case of necessity. In drawing the plans, etc., Glossin wasin the custom of relying upon his own skill. Bertram's back was towardsthem as they came up the ascent, and he was quite shrouded by thebranches of the large tree, so that Glossin was not aware of thepresence of the stranger till he was close upon him.

  'Yes, sir, as I have often said before to you, the Old Place is aperfect quarry of hewn stone, and it would be better for the estate ifit were all down, since it is only a den for smugglers.' At thisinstant Bertram turned short round upon Glossin at the distance of twoyards only, and said--'Would you destroy this fine old castle, sir?'

  His face, person, and voice were so exactly those of his father in hisbest days, that Glossin, hearing his exclamation, and seeing such asudden apparition in the shape of his patron, and on nearly the veryspot where he had expired, almost thought the grave had given up itsdead! He staggered back two or three paces, as if he had received asudden and deadly wound. He instantly recovered, however, his presenceof mind, stimulated by the thrilling reflection that it was noinhabitant of the other world which stood before him, but an injuredman whom the slightest want of dexterity on his part might lead toacquaintance with his rights, and the means of asserting them to hisutter destruction. Yet his ideas were so much confused by the shock hehad received that his first question partook of the alarm.

  'In the name of God, how came you here?' said Glossin.

  'How came I here?' repeated Bertram, surprised at the solemnity of theaddress; 'I landed a quarter of an hour since in the little harbourbeneath the castle, and was employing a moment's leisure in viewingthese fine ruins. I trust there is no intrusion?'

  'Intrusion, sir? No, sir,' said Glossin, in some degree recovering hisbreath, and then whispered a few words into his companion's ear, whoimmediately left him and descended towards the house. 'Intrusion, sir?no, sir; you or any gentleman are welcome to satisfy your curiosity.'

  'I thank you, sir,' said Bertram. 'They call this the Old Place, I aminformed?'

  'Yes, sir; in distinction to the New Place, my house there below.'

  Glossin, it must be remarked, was, during the following dialogue, onthe one hand eager to learn what local recollections young Bertram hadretained of the scenes of his infancy, and on the other compelled to beextremely cautious in his replies, lest he should awaken or assist, bysome name, phrase, or anecdote, the slumbering train of association. Hesuffered, indeed, during the whole scene the agonies which he so richlydeserved; yet his pride and interest, like the fortitude of a NorthAmerican Indian, manned him to sustain the tortures inflicted at onceby the contending stings of a guilty conscience, of hatred, of fear,and of suspicion.

  'I wish to ask the name, sir,' said Bertram, 'of the family to whomthis stately ruin belongs.'

  'It is my property, sir; my name is Glossin.'

  'Glossin--Glossin?' repeated Bertram, as if the answer were somewhatdifferent from what he expected. 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Glossin; I amapt to be very absent. May I ask if the castle has been long in yourfamily?'

  'It was built, I believe, long ago by a family called Mac-Dingawaie,'answered Glossin, suppressing for obvious reasons the more familiarsound of Bertram, which might have awakened the recollections which hewas anxious to lull to rest, and slurring with an evasive answer thequestion concerning the endurance of his own posse
ssion.

  'And how do you read the half-defaced motto, sir,' said Bertram, 'whichis upon that scroll above the entablature with the arms?'

  'I--I--I really do not exactly know,' replied Glossin.

  'I should be apt to make it out, OUR RIGHT MAKES OUR MIGHT.'

  'I believe it is something of that kind,' said Glossin.

  'May I ask, sir,' said the stranger, 'if it is your family motto?'

  'N--n--no--no--not ours. That is, I believe, the motto of the formerpeople; mine is--mine is--in fact, I have had some correspondence withMr. Cumming of the Lyon Office in Edinburgh about mine. He writes methe Glossins anciently bore for a motto, "He who takes it, makes it."'

  'If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were mine,' saidBertram, 'I would assume the old motto, which seems to me the better ofthe two.'

  Glossin, whose tongue by this time clove to the roof of his mouth, onlyanswered by a nod.

  'It is odd enough,' said Bertram, fixing his eye upon the arms andgateway, and partly addressing Glossin, partly as it were thinkingaloud--'it is odd the tricks which our memory plays us. The remnants ofan old prophecy, or song, or rhyme of some kind or other, return to myrecollection on hearing that motto; stay--it is a strange jingle ofsounds:--

  The dark shall be light, And the wrong made right, When Bertram's right and Bertram's might Shall meet on---

  I cannot remember the last line--on some particular height; HEIGHT isthe rhyme, I am sure; but I cannot hit upon the preceding word.'

  'Confound your memory,' muttered Glossin, 'you remember by far too muchof it!'

  'There are other rhymes connected with these early recollections,'continued the young man. 'Pray, sir, is there any song current in thispart of the world respecting a daughter of the King of the Isle of Maneloping with a Scottish knight?'

  'I am the worst person in the world to consult upon legendaryantiquities,' answered Glossin.

  'I could sing such a ballad,' said Bertram, 'from one end to anotherwhen I was a boy. You must know I left Scotland, which is my nativecountry, very young, and those who brought me up discouraged all myattempts to preserve recollection of my native land, on account, Ibelieve, of a boyish wish which I had to escape from their charge.'

  'Very natural,' said Glossin, but speaking as if his utmost effortswere unable to unseal his lips beyond the width of a quarter of aninch, so that his whole utterance was a kind of compressed muttering,very different from the round, bold, bullying voice with which heusually spoke. Indeed, his appearance and demeanour during all thisconversation seemed to diminish even his strength and stature; so thathe appeared to wither into the shadow of himself, now advancing onefoot, now the other, now stooping and wriggling his shoulders, nowfumbling with the buttons of his waistcoat, now clasping his handstogether; in short, he was the picture of a mean-spirited, shufflingrascal in the very agonies of detection. To these appearances Bertramwas totally inattentive, being dragged on as it were by the current ofhis own associations. Indeed, although he addressed Glossin, he was notso much thinking of him as arguing upon the embarrassing state of hisown feelings and recollection. 'Yes,' he said, 'I preserved my languageamong the sailors, most of whom spoke English, and when I could getinto a corner by myself I used to sing all that song over frombeginning to end; I have forgot it all now, but I remember the tunewell, though I cannot guess what should at present so strongly recallit to my memory.'

  He took his flageolet from his pocket and played a simple melody.Apparently the tune awoke the corresponding associations of a damselwho, close beside a fine spring about halfway down the descent, andwhich had once supplied the castle with water, was engaged in bleachinglinen. She immediately took up the song:--

  'Are these the Links of Forth, she said, Or are they the crooks of Dee, Or the bonnie woods of Warroch Head That I so fain would see?'

  'By heaven,' said Bertram, 'it is the very ballad! I must learn thesewords from the girl.'

  'Confusion!' thought Glossin; 'if I cannot put a stop to this all willbe out. O the devil take all ballads and ballad-makers andballad-singers! and that d--d jade too, to set up her pipe!'--'You willhave time enough for this on some other occasion,' he said aloud; 'atpresent' (for now he saw his emissary with two or three men coming upthe bank)--'at present we must have some more serious conversationtogether.'

  'How do you mean, sir?' said Bertram, turning short upon him, and notliking the tone which he made use of.

  'Why, sir, as to that--I believe your name is Brown?' said Glossin.'And what of that, sir?'

  Glossin looked over his shoulder to see how near his party hadapproached; they were coming fast on. 'Vanbeest Brown? if I mistakenot.'

  'And what of that, sir?' said Bertram, with increasing astonishment anddispleasure.

  'Why, in that case,' said Glossin, observing his friends had now gotupon the level space close beside them--'in that case you are myprisoner in the king's name!' At the same time he stretched his handtowards Bertram's collar, while two of the men who had come up seizedupon his arms; he shook himself, however, free of their grasp by aviolent effort, in which he pitched the most pertinacious down thebank, and, drawing his cutlass, stood on the defensive, while those whohad felt his strength recoiled from his presence and gazed at a safedistance. 'Observe,' he called out at the same time, 'that I have nopurpose to resist legal authority; satisfy me that you have amagistrate's warrant, and are authorised to make this arrest, and Iwill obey it quietly; but let no man who loves his life venture toapproach me till I am satisfied for what crime, and by whose authority,I am apprehended.'

  Glossin then caused one of the officers show a warrant for theapprehension of Vanbeest Brown, accused of the crime of wilfully andmaliciously shooting at Charles Hazlewood, younger of Hazlewood, withan intent to kill, and also of other crimes and misdemeanours, andwhich appointed him, having been so apprehended, to be brought beforethe next magistrate for examination. The warrant being formal, and thefact such as he could not deny, Bertram threw down his weapon andsubmitted himself to the officers, who, flying on him with eagernesscorresponding to their former pusillanimity, were about to load himwith irons, alleging the strength and activity which he had displayedas a justification of this severity. But Glossin was ashamed or afraidto permit this unnecessary insult, and directed the prisoner to betreated with all the decency, and even respect, that was consistentwith safety. Afraid, however, to introduce him into his own house,where still further subjects of recollection might have been suggested,and anxious at the same time to cover his own proceedings by thesanction of another's authority, he ordered his carriage (for he hadlately set up a carriage) to be got ready, and in the meantime directedrefreshments to be given to the prisoner and the officers, who wereconsigned to one of the rooms in the old castle, until the means ofconveyance for examination before a magistrate should be provided.