Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since — Volume 2

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XLII

  A SOLDIER'S DINNER

  James of the Needle was a man of his word when whisky was no partyto the contract; and upon this occasion Callum Beg, who stillthought himself in Waverley's debt, since he had declinedaccepting compensation at the expense of mine host of theCandlestick's person, took the opportunity of discharging theobligation, by mounting guard over the hereditary tailor ofSliochd nan Ivor; and, as he expressed himself, 'targed himtightly' till the finishing of the job. To rid himself of thisrestraint, Shemus's needle flew through the tartan like lightning;and as the artist kept chanting some dreadful skirmish of FinMacoul, he accomplished at least three stitches to the death ofevery hero. The dress was, therefore, soon ready, for the shortcoat fitted the wearer, and the rest of the apparel requiredlittle adjustment.

  Our hero having now fairly assumed the 'garb of old Gaul,' wellcalculated as it was to give an appearance of strength to a figurewhich, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant than robust,I hope my fair readers will excuse him if he looked at himself inthe mirror more than once, and could not help acknowledging thatthe reflection seemed that of a very handsome young fellow. Infact, there was no disguising it. His light-brown hair--for hewore no periwig, notwithstanding the universal fashion of thetime--became the bonnet which surmounted it. His person promisedfirmness and agility, to which the ample folds of the tartan addedan air of dignity. His blue eye seemed of that kind,

  Which melted in love, and which kindled in war;

  and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of wantof habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to hisfeatures, without injuring their grace or intelligence.

  'He's a pratty man, a very pratty man,' said Evan Dhu (now EnsignMaccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.

  'He's vera weel,' said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething saeweel-far'd as your colonel, ensign.'

  'I wasna comparing them,' quoth Evan, 'nor was I speaking abouthis being weel-favoured; but only that Mr. Waverley looks clean-made and deliver, and like a proper lad o' his quarters, that willnot cry barley in a brulzie. And, indeed, he's gleg aneuch at thebroadsword and target. I hae played wi' him mysell atGlennaquoich, and sae has Vich lan Vohr, often of a Sundayafternoon.'

  'Lord forgie ye, Ensign Maccombich,' said the alarmedPresbyterian; 'I'm sure the colonel wad never do the like o'that!'

  'Hout! hout! Mrs. Flockhart,' replied the ensign, 'we're youngblude, ye ken; and young saints, auld deils.'

  'But will ye fight wi' Sir John Cope the morn, Ensign Maccombich?'demanded Mrs. Flockhart of her guest.

  'Troth I'se ensure him, an he'll bide us, Mrs. Flockhart,' repliedthe Gael.

  'And will ye face thae tearing chields, the dragoons, EnsignMaccombich?' again inquired the landlady.

  'Claw for claw, as Conan said to Satan, Mrs. Flockhart, and thedeevil tak the shortest nails.'

  'And will the colonel venture on the bagganets himsell?'

  'Ye may swear it, Mrs. Flockhart; the very first man will he be,by Saint Phedar.'

  'Merciful goodness! and if he's killed amang the redcoats!'exclaimed the soft-hearted widow.

  'Troth, if it should sae befall, Mrs. Flockhart, I ken ane thatwill no be living to weep for him. But we maun a' live the day,and have our dinner; and there's Vich lan Vohr has packed hisdorlach, and Mr. Waverley's wearied wi' majoring yonder afore themuckle pier-glass; and that grey auld stoor carle, the Baron o'Bradwardine that shot young Ronald of Ballenkeiroch, he's comingdown the close wi' that droghling coghling bailie body they ca'Macwhupple, just like the Laird o' Kittlegab's French cook, wi'his turnspit doggie trindling ahint him, and I am as hungry as agled, my bonny dow; sae bid Kate set on the broo', and do ye puton your pinners, for ye ken Vich lan Vohr winna sit down till yebe at the head o' the table;--and dinna forget the pint bottle o'brandy, my woman.'

  This hint produced dinner. Mrs. Flockhart, smiling in her weedslike the sun through a mist, took the head of the table, thinkingwithin herself, perhaps, that she cared not how long the rebellionlasted that brought her into company so much above her usualassociates. She was supported by Waverley and the Baron, with theadvantage of the Chieftain vis-a-vis. The men of peace and of war,that is, Bailie Macwheeble and Ensign Maccombich, after manyprofound conges to their superiors and each other, took theirplaces on each side of the Chieftain. Their fare was excellent,time, place, and circumstances considered, and Fergus's spiritswere extravagantly high. Regardless of danger, and sanguine fromtemper, youth, and ambition, he saw in imagination all hisprospects crowned with success, and was totally indifferent to theprobable alternative of a soldier's grave. The Baron apologizedslightly for bringing Macwheeble. They had been providing, hesaid, for the expenses of the campaign. 'And, by my faith,' saidthe old man, 'as I think this will be my last, so I just end whereI began: I hae evermore found the sinews of war, as a learnedauthor calls the caisse militaire, mair difficult to come by thaneither its flesh, blood, or bones.'

  'What! have you raised our only efficient body of cavalry and gotye none of the louis-d'or out of the Doutelle [Footnote: TheDoutelle was an armed vessel which brought a small supply of moneyand arms from France for the use of the insurgents.] to help you?'

  'No, Glennaquoich; cleverer fellows have been before me.'

  'That's a scandal,' said the young Highlander; 'but you will sharewhat is left of my subsidy; it will save you an anxious thoughttonight, and will be all one tomorrow, for we shall all beprovided for, one way or other, before the sun sets.' Waverley,blushing deeply, but with great earnestness, pressed the samerequest.

  'I thank ye baith, my good lads,' said the Baron, 'but I will notinfringe upon your peculium. Bailie Macwheeble has provided thesum which is necessary.'

  Here the Bailie shifted and fidgeted about in his seat, andappeared extremely uneasy. At length, after several preliminaryhems, and much tautological expression of his devotion to hishonour's service, by night or day, living or dead, he began toinsinuate, 'that the banks had removed a' their ready cash intothe Castle; that, nae doubt, Sandie Goldie, the silversmith, woulddo mickle for his honour; but there was little time to get thewadset made out; and, doubtless, if his honour Glennaquoich or Mr.Wauverley could accommodate--'

  'Let me hear of no such nonsense, sir,' said the Baron, in a tonewhich rendered Macwheeble mute, 'but proceed as we accorded beforedinner, if it be your wish to remain in my service.'

  To this peremptory order the Bailie, though he felt as ifcondemned to suffer a transfusion of blood from his own veins intothose of the Baron, did not presume to make any reply. Afterfidgeting a little while longer, however, he addressed himself toGlennaquoich, and told him, if his honour had mair ready sillerthan was sufficient for his occasions in the field, he could putit out at use for his honour in safe hands and at great profit atthis time.

  At this proposal Fergus laughed heartily, and answered, when hehad recovered his breath--'Many thanks, Bailie; but you must know,it is a general custom among us soldiers to make our landlady ourbanker. Here, Mrs. Flockhart,' said he, taking four or five broadpieces out of a well-filled purse and tossing the purse itself,with its remaining contents, into her apron, 'these will serve myoccasions; do you take the rest. Be my banker if I live, and myexecutor if I die; but take care to give something to the Highlandcailliachs [Footnote: Old women, on whom devolved the duty oflamenting for the dead, which the Irish call keening.] that shallcry the coronach loudest for the last Vich lan Vohr.'

  'It is the testamentum militare,' quoth the Baron, 'whilk, amangthe Romans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative.' But the softheart of Mrs. Flockhart was melted within her at the Chieftain'sspeech; she set up a lamentable blubbering, and positively refusedto touch the bequest, which Fergus was therefore obliged toresume.

  'Well, then,' said the Chief, 'if I fall, it will go to thegrenadier that knocks my brains out, and I shall take care heworks hard for it.'

  Bailie Macwheeble was again tempted to put in his oar; for wherecash was concerned
he did not willingly remain silent. 'Perhaps hehad better carry the gowd to Miss Mac-Ivor, in case of mortalityor accidents of war. It might tak the form of a mortis causadonation in the young leddie's favour, and--wad cost but thescrape of a pen to mak it out.'

  'The young lady,' said Fergus, 'should such an event happen, willhave other matters to think of than these wretched louis-d'or.'

  'True--undeniable--there's nae doubt o' that; but your honour kensthat a full sorrow--'

  'Is endurable by most folk more easily than a hungry one? True,Bailie, very true; and I believe there may even be some who wouldbe consoled by such a reflection for the loss of the wholeexisting generation. But there is a sorrow which knows neitherhunger nor thirst; and poor Flora--' He paused, and the wholecompany sympathised in his emotion.

  The Baron's thoughts naturally reverted to the unprotected stateof his daughter, and the big tear came to the veteran's eye. 'If Ifall, Macwheeble, you have all my papers and know all my affairs;be just to Rose.'

  The Bailie was a man of earthly mould, after all; a good deal ofdirt and dross about him, undoubtedly, but some kindly and justfeelings he had, especially where the Baron or his young mistresswere concerned. He set up a lamentable howl. 'If that doleful dayshould come, while Duncan Macwheeble had a boddle it should beMiss Rose's. He wald scroll for a plack the sheet or she kenn'dwhat it was to want; if indeed a' the bonnie baronie o'Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, with the fortalice and manor-placethereof (he kept sobbing and whining at every pause), tofts,crofts, mosses, muirs--outfield, infield--buildings--orchards--dove-cots--with the right of net and coble in the water and lochof Veolan--teinds, parsonage and vicarage--annexis, connexis--rights of pasturage--feul, feal and divot--parts, pendicles, andpertinents whatsoever--(here he had recourse to the end of hislong cravat to wipe his eyes, which overflowed, in spite of him,at the ideas which this technical jargon conjured up)--all as morefully described in the proper evidents and titles thereof--andlying within the parish of Bradwardine and the shire of Perth--if,as aforesaid, they must a' pass from my master's child to Inch-Grabbit, wha's a Whig and a Hanoverian, and be managed by hisdoer, Jamie Howie, wha's no fit to be a birlieman, let be abailie--'

  The beginning of this lamentation really had something affecting,but the conclusion rendered laughter irresistible. 'Never mind,Bailie,' said Ensign Maccombich, 'for the gude auld times ofrugging and riving (pulling and tearing) are come back again, an'Sneckus Mac-Snackus (meaning, probably, annexis, connexis), and a'the rest of your friends, maun gie place to the langest claymore.'

  'And that claymore shall be ours, Bailie,' said the Chieftain, whosaw that Macwheeble looked very blank at this intimation.

  'We'll give them the metal our mountain affords, Lillibulero, bullen a la, And in place of broad-pieces, we'll pay with broadswords, Lero, lero, etc. With duns and with debts we will soon clear our score, Lillibulero, etc. For the man that's thus paid will crave payment no more, Lero, lero, etc.

  [Footnote: These lines, or something like them, occur in an oldmagazine of the period.]

  But come, Bailie, be not cast down; drink your wine with a joyousheart; the Baron shall return safe and victorious to Tully-Veolan,and unite Killancureit's lairdship with his own, since thecowardly half-bred swine will not turn out for the Prince like agentleman.'

  'To be sure, they lie maist ewest,' said the Bailie, wiping hiseyes, 'and should naturally fa' under the same factory.'

  'And I,' proceeded the Chieftain,'shall take care of myself, too;for you must know, I have to complete a good work here, bybringing Mrs. Flockhart into the bosom of the Catholic church, orat least half way, and that is to your Episcopal meeting-house. OBaron! if you heard her fine counter-tenor admonishing Kate andMatty in the morning, you, who understand music, would tremble atthe idea of hearing her shriek in the psalmody of Haddo's Hole.'

  'Lord forgie you, colonel, how ye rin on! But I hope your honourswill tak tea before ye gang to the palace, and I maun gang andmask it for you.'

  So saying, Mrs. Flockhart left the gentlemen to their ownconversation, which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon theapproaching events of the campaign.