by Walter Scott
CHAPTER LXII
WHAT'S TO BE DONE NEXT?
Itwas twilight when they arrived in town; and having shaken offhis companions, and walked through a good many streets to avoidthe possibility of being traced by them, Edward took a hackney-coach and drove to Colonel Talbot's house, in one of the principalsquares at the west end of the town. That gentleman, by the deathof relations, had succeeded since his marriage to a large fortune,possessed considerable political interest, and lived in what iscalled great style.
When Waverley knocked at his door he found it at first difficultto procure admittance, but at length was shown into an apartmentwhere the Colonel was at table. Lady Emily, whose very beautifulfeatures were still pallid from indisposition, sate opposite tohim. The instant he heard Waverley's voice, he started up andembraced him. 'Frank Stanley, my dear boy, how d'ye do? Emily, mylove, this is young Stanley.'
The blood started to the lady's cheek as she gave Waverley areception in which courtesy was mingled with kindness, while hertrembling hand and faltering voice showed how much she wasstartled and discomposed. Dinner was hastily replaced, and whileWaverley was engaged in refreshing himself, the Colonel proceeded--'I wonder you have come here, Frank; the Doctors tell me the airof London is very bad for your complaints. You should not haverisked it. But I am delighted to see you, and so is Emily, thoughI fear we must not reckon upon your staying long.'
'Some particular business brought me up,' muttered Waverley.
'I supposed so, but I shan't allow you to stay long. Spontoon' (toan elderly military-looking servant out of livery),'take awaythese things, and answer the bell yourself, if I ring. Don't letany of the other fellows disturb us. My nephew and I have businessto talk of.'
When the servants had retired, 'In the name of God, Waverley, whathas brought you here? It may be as much as your life is worth.'
'Dear Mr. Waverley,' said Lady Emily, 'to whom I owe so much morethan acknowledgments can ever pay, how could you be so rash?'
'My father--my uncle--this paragraph,'--he handed the paper toColonel Talbot.
'I wish to Heaven these scoundrels were condemned to be squeezedto death in their own presses,' said Talbot. 'I am told there arenot less than a dozen of their papers now published in town, andno wonder that they are obliged to invent lies to find sale fortheir journals. It is true, however, my dear Edward, that you havelost your father; but as to this flourish of his unpleasantsituation having grated upon his spirits and hurt his health--thetruth is--for though it is harsh to say so now, yet it willrelieve your mind from the idea of weighty responsibility--thetruth then is, that Mr. Richard Waverley, through this wholebusiness, showed great want of sensibility, both to your situationand that of your uncle; and the last time I saw him, he told me,with great glee, that, as I was so good as to take charge of yourinterests, he had thought it best to patch up a separatenegotiation for himself, and make his peace with governmentthrough some channels which former connexions left still open tohim.'
'And my uncle, my dear uncle?'
'Is in no danger whatever. It is true (looking at the date of thepaper) there was a foolish report some time ago to the purporthere quoted, but it is entirely false. Sir Everard is gone down toWaverley-Honour, freed from all uneasiness, unless upon your ownaccount. But you are in peril yourself; your name is in everyproclamation; warrants are out to apprehend you. How and when didyou come here?'
Edward told his story at length, suppressing his quarrel withFergus; for, being himself partial to Highlanders, he did not wishto give any advantage to the Colonel's national prejudice againstthem.
'Are you sure it was your friend Glen's foot-boy you saw dead inClifton Moor?'
'Quite positive.'
'Then that little limb of the devil has cheated the gallows, forcut-throat was written in his face; though (turning to Lady Emily)it was a very handsome face too. But for you, Edward, I wish youwould go down again to Cumberland, or rather I wish you had neverstirred from thence, for there is an embargo in all the seaports,and a strict search for the adherents of the Pretender; and thetongue of that confounded woman will wag in her head like theclack of a mill, till somehow or other she will detect CaptainButler to be a feigned personage.'
'Do you know anything,' asked Waverley, 'of my fellow-traveller?'
'Her husband was my sergeant-major for six years; she was a buxomwidow, with a little money; he married her, was steady, and got onby being a good drill. I must send Spontoon to see what she isabout; he will find her out among the old regimental connections.To-morrow you must be indisposed, and keep your room from fatigue.Lady Emily is to be your nurse, and Spontoon and I yourattendants. You bear the name of a near relation of mine, whomnone of my present people ever saw, except Spontoon, so there willbe no immediate danger. So pray feel your head ache and your eyesgrow heavy as soon as possible, that you may be put upon the sick-list; and, Emily, do you order an apartment for Frank Stanley,with all the attentions which an invalid may require.'
In the morning the Colonel visited his guest. 'Now,' said he, 'Ihave some good news for you. Your reputation as a gentleman andofficer is effectually cleared of neglect of duty and accession tothe mutiny in Gardiner's regiment. I have had a correspondence onthis subject with a very zealous friend of yours, your Scottishparson, Morton; his first letter was addressed to Sir Everard; butI relieved the good Baronet of the trouble of answering it. Youmust know, that your free-booting acquaintance, Donald of theCave, has at length fallen into the hands of the Philistines. Hewas driving off the cattle of a certain proprietor, called Killan--something or other--'
'Killancureit?'
'The same. Now the gentleman being, it seems, a great farmer, andhaving a special value for his breed of cattle, being, moreover,rather of a timid disposition, had got a party of soldiers toprotect his property. So Donald ran his head unawares into thelion's mouth, and was defeated and made prisoner. Being orderedfor execution, his conscience was assailed on the one hand by aCatholic priest, on the other by your friend Morton. He repulsedthe Catholic chiefly on account of the doctrine of extremeunction, which this economical gentleman considered as anexcessive waste of oil. So his conversion from a state ofimpenitence fell to Mr. Morton's share, who, I daresay, acquittedhimself excellently, though I suppose Donald made but a queer kindof Christian after all. He confessed, however, before amagistrate, one Major Melville, who seems to have been a correct,friendly sort of person, his full intrigue with Houghton,explaining particularly how it was carried on, and fullyacquitting you of the least accession to it. He also mentioned hisrescuing you from the hands of the volunteer officer, and sendingyou, by orders of the Pret--Chevalier, I mean--as a prisoner toDoune, from whence he understood you were carried prisoner toEdinburgh. These are particulars which cannot but tell in yourfavour. He hinted that he had been employed to deliver and protectyou, and rewarded for doing so; but he would not confess by whom,alleging that, though he would not have minded breaking anyordinary oath to satisfy the curiosity of Mr. Morton, to whosepious admonitions he owed so much, yet, in the present case he hadbeen sworn to silence upon the edge of his dirk, [Footnote: SeeNote 14.] which, it seems, constituted, in his opinion, aninviolable obligation.'
'And what is become of him?'
'Oh, he was hanged at Stirling after the rebels raised the siege,with his lieutenant and four plaids besides; he having theadvantage of a gallows more lofty than his friends.'
'Well, I have little cause either to regret or rejoice at hisdeath; and yet he has done me both good and harm to a veryconsiderable extent.'
'His confession, at least, will serve you materially, since itwipes from your character all those suspicions which gave theaccusation against you a complexion of a nature different fromthat with which so many unfortunate gentlemen, now or lately inarms against the government, may be justly charged. Their treason--I must give it its name, though you participate in its guilt--isan action arising from mistaken virtue, and therefore cannot beclassed as a disgrace, though it be doubtle
ss highly criminal.Where the guilty are so numerous, clemency must be extended to farthe greater number; and I have little doubt of procuring aremission for you, providing we can keep you out of the claws ofjustice till she has selected and gorged upon her victims; for inthis, as in other cases, it will be according to the vulgarproverb, "First come, first served." Besides, government aredesirous at present to intimidate the English Jacobites, amongwhom they can find few examples for punishment. This is avindictive and timid feeling which will soon wear off, for of allnations the English are least blood-thirsty by nature. But itexists at present, and you must therefore be kept out of the wayin the mean-time.'
Now entered Spontoon with an anxious countenance. By hisregimental acquaintances he had traced out Madam Nosebag, andfound her full of ire, fuss, and fidget at discovery of animpostor who had travelled from the north with her under theassumed name of Captain Butler of Gardiner's dragoons. She wasgoing to lodge an information on the subject, to have him soughtfor as an emissary of the Pretender; but Spontoon (an oldsoldier), while he pretended to approve, contrived to make herdelay her intention. No time, however, was to be lost: theaccuracy of this good dame's description might probably lead tothe discovery that Waverley was the pretended Captain Butler, anidentification fraught with danger to Edward, perhaps to hisuncle, and even to Colonel Talbot. Which way to direct his coursewas now, therefore, the question.
'To Scotland,' said Waverley.
'To Scotland?' said the Colonel; 'with what purpose? not to engageagain with the rebels, I hope?'
'No; I considered my campaign ended when, after all my efforts, Icould not rejoin them; and now, by all accounts, they are gone tomake a winter campaign in the Highlands, where such adherents as Iam would rather be burdensome than useful. Indeed, it seems likelythat they only prolong the war to place the Chevalier's person outof danger, and then to make some terms for themselves. To burdenthem with my presence would merely add another party, whom theywould not give up and could not defend. I understand they leftalmost all their English adherents in garrison at Carlisle, forthat very reason. And on a more general view, Colonel, to confessthe truth, though it may lower me in your opinion, I am heartlytired of the trade of war, and am, as Fletcher's HumorousLieutenant says, "even as weary of this fighting-'"
'Fighting! pooh, what have you seen but a skirmish or two? Ah! ifyou saw war on the grand scale--sixty or a hundred thousand men inthe field on each side!'
'I am not at all curious, Colonel. "Enough," says our homelyproverb, "is as good as a feast." The plumed troops and the bigwar used to enchant me in poetry, but the night marches, vigils,couches under the wintry sky, and such accompaniments of theglorious trade, are not at all to my taste in practice; then fordry blows, I had MY fill of fighting at Clifton, where I escapedby a hair's-breadth half a dozen times; and you, I should think--'He stopped.
'Had enough of it at Preston? you mean to say,' answered theColonel, laughing; 'but 'tis my vocation, Hal.'
'It is not mine, though,' said Waverley; 'and having honourablygot rid of the sword, which I drew only as a volunteer, I am quitesatisfied with my military experience, and shall be in no hurry totake it up again.'
'I am very glad you are of that mind; but then what would you doin the north?'
'In the first place, there are some seaports on the eastern coastof Scotland still in the hands of the Chevalier's friends; shouldI gain any of them, I can easily embark for the Continent.'
'Good, your second reason?'
'Why, to speak the very truth, there is a person in Scotland uponwhom I now find my happiness depends more than I was always aware,and about whose situation I am very anxious.'
'Then Emily was right, and there is a love affair in the caseafter all? And which of these two pretty Scotchwomen, whom youinsisted upon my admiring, is the distinguished fair? not MissGlen--I hope.'
'No.'
'Ah, pass for the other; simplicity may be improved, but pride andconceit never. Well, I don't discourage you; I think it willplease Sir Everard, from what he said when I jested with him aboutit; only I hope that intolerable papa, with his brogue, and hissnuff, and his Latin, and his insufferable long stories about theDuke of Berwick, will find it necessary hereafter to be aninhabitant of foreign parts. But as to the daughter, though Ithink you might find as fitting a match in England, yet if yourheart be really set upon this Scotch rosebud, why the Baronet hasa great opinion of her father and of his family, and he wishesmuch to see you married and settled, both for your own sake andfor that of the three ermines passant, which may otherwise passaway altogether. But I will bring you his mind fully upon thesubject, since you are debarred correspondence for the present,for I think you will not be long in Scotland before me.'
'Indeed! and what can induce you to think of returning toScotland? No relenting longings towards the land of mountains andfloods, I am afraid.'
'None, on my word; but Emily's health is now, thank God,reestablished, and, to tell you the truth, I have little hopes ofconcluding the business which I have at present most at heartuntil I can have a personal interview with his Royal Highness theCommander-in-Chief; for, as Fluellen says, "the duke doth love mewell, and I thank heaven I have deserved some love at his hands."I am now going out for an hour or two to arrange matters for yourdeparture; your liberty extends to the next room, Lady Emily'sparlour, where you will find her when you are disposed for music,reading, or conversation. We have taken measures to exclude allservants but Spontoon, who is as true as steel.'
In about two hours Colonel Talbot returned, and found his youngfriend conversing with his lady; she pleased with his manners andinformation, and he delighted at being restored, though but for amoment, to the society of his own rank, from which he had been forsome time excluded.
'And now,' said the Colonel, 'hear my arrangements, for there islittle time to lose. This youngster, Edward Waverley, aliasWilliams, alias Captain Butler, must continue to pass by hisfourth ALIAS of Francis Stanley, my nephew; he shall set out to-morrow for the North, and the chariot shall take him the first twostages. Spontoon shall then attend him; and they shall ride postas far as Huntingdon; and the presence of Spontoon, well known onthe road as my servant, will check all disposition to inquiry. AtHuntingdon you will meet the real Frank Stanley. He is studying atCambridge; but, a little while ago, doubtful if Emily's healthwould permit me to go down to the North myself, I procured him apassport from the secretary of state's office to go in my stead.As he went chiefly to look after you, his journey is nowunnecessary. He knows your story; you will dine together atHuntingdon; and perhaps your wise heads may hit upon some plan forremoving or diminishing the danger of your farther progress north-ward. And now (taking out a morocco case), let me put you in fundsfor the campaign.'
'I am ashamed, my dear Colonel--'
'Nay,' said Colonel Talbot, 'you should command my purse in anyevent; but this money is your own. Your father, considering thechance of your being attainted, left me his trustee for youradvantage. So that you are worth above L15,000, besides Brere-WoodLodge--a very independent person, I promise you. There are billshere for L200; any larger sum you may have, or credit abroad, assoon as your motions require it.'
The first use which occurred to Waverley of his newly acquiredwealth was to write to honest Farmer Jopson, requesting hisacceptance of a silver tankard on the part of his friend Williams,who had not forgotten the night of the eighteenth December last.He begged him at the same time carefully to preserve for him hisHighland garb and accoutrements, particularly the arms, curious inthemselves, and to which the friendship of the donors gaveadditional value. Lady Emily undertook to find some suitable tokenof remembrance likely to flatter the vanity and please the tasteof Mrs. Williams; and the Colonel, who was a kind of farmer,promised to send the Ullswater patriarch an excellent team ofhorses for cart and plough.
One happy day Waverley spent in London; and, travelling in themanner projected, he met with Frank Stanley at Huntingdon. The twoyoung men were acquainted in a minu
te.
'I can read my uncle's riddle,' said Stanley;'the cautious oldsoldier did not care to hint to me that I might hand over to youthis passport, which I have no occasion for; but if it shouldafterwards come out as the rattle-pated trick of a young Cantab,cela ne tire a rien. You are therefore to be Francis Stanley, withthis passport.' This proposal appeared in effect to alleviate agreat part of the difficulties which Edward must otherwise haveencountered at every turn; and accordingly he scrupled not toavail himself of it, the more especially as he had discarded allpolitical purposes from his present journey, and could not beaccused of furthering machinations against the government whiletravelling under protection of the secretary's passport.
The day passed merrily away. The young student was inquisitiveabout Waverley's campaigns, and the manners of the Highlands, andEdward was obliged to satisfy his curiosity by whistling apibroch, dancing a strathspey, and singing a Highland song. Thenext morning Stanley rode a stage northward with his new friend,and parted from him with great reluctance, upon the remonstrancesof Spontoon, who, accustomed to submit to discipline, was rigid inenforcing it.