by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXXIII
A CONFIDANT
Waverley awoke in the morning from troubled dreams andunrefreshing slumbers to a full consciousness of the horrors ofhis situation. How it might terminate he knew not. He might bedelivered up to military law, which, in the midst of civil war,was not likely to be scrupulous in the choice of its victims orthe quality of the evidence. Nor did he feel much more comfortableat the thoughts of a trial before a Scottish court of justice,where he knew the laws and forms differed in many respects fromthose of England, and had been taught to believe, howevererroneously, that the liberty and rights of the subject were lesscarefully protected. A sentiment of bitterness rose in his mindagainst the government, which he considered as the cause of hisembarrassment and peril, and he cursed internally his scrupulousrejection of Mac-Ivor's invitation to accompany him to the field.
'Why did not I,' he said to himself, 'like other men of honour,take the earliest opportunity to welcome to Britain the descendantof her ancient kings and lineal heir of her throne? Why did not I--
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith, Seek out Prince Charles, and fall before his feet?
All that has been recorded of excellence and worth in the house ofWaverley has been founded upon their loyal faith to the house ofStuart. From the interpretation which this Scotch magistrate hasput upon the letters of my uncle and father, it is plain that Iought to have understood them as marshalling me to the course ofmy ancestors; and it has been my gross dulness, joined to theobscurity of expression which they adopted for the sake ofsecurity, that has confounded my judgment. Had I yielded to thefirst generous impulse of indignation when I learned that myhonour was practised upon, how different had been my presentsituation! I had then been free and in arms fighting, like myforefathers, for love, for loyalty, and for fame. And now I amhere, netted and in the toils, at the disposal of a suspicious,stern, and cold-hearted man, perhaps to be turned over to thesolitude of a dungeon or the infamy of a public execution. O,Fergus! how true has your prophecy proved; and how speedy, howvery speedy, has been its accomplishment!'
While Edward was ruminating on these painful subjects ofcontemplation, and very naturally, though not quite so justly,bestowing upon the reigning dynasty that blame which was due tochance, or, in part at least, to his own unreflecting conduct, Mr.Morton availed himself of Major Melville's permission to pay himan early visit.
Waverley's first impulse was to intimate a desire that he mightnot be disturbed with questions or conversation; but he suppressedit upon observing the benevolent and reverend appearance of theclergyman who had rescued him from the immediate violence of thevillagers.
'I believe, sir,' said the unfortunate young man,'that in anyother circumstances I should have had as much gratitude to expressto you as the safety of my life may be worth; but such is thepresent tumult of my mind, and such is my anticipation of what Iam yet likely to endure, that I can hardly offer you thanks foryour interposition.'
Mr. Morton replied, that, far from making any claim upon his goodopinion, his only wish and the sole purpose of his visit was tofind out the means of deserving it. 'My excellent friend, MajorMelville,' he continued, 'has feelings and duties as a soldier andpublic functionary by which I am not fettered; nor can I alwayscoincide in opinions which he forms, perhaps with too littleallowance for the imperfections of human nature.' He paused andthen proceeded: 'I do not intrude myself on your confidence, Mr.Waverley, for the purpose of learning any circumstances theknowledge of which can be prejudicial either to yourself or toothers; but I own my earnest wish is that you would intrust mewith any particulars which could lead to your exculpation. I cansolemnly assure you they will be deposited with a faithful and, tothe extent of his limited powers, a zealous agent.'
'You are, sir, I presume, a Presbyterian clergyman?' Mr. Mortonbowed. 'Were I to be guided by the prepossessions of education, Imight distrust your friendly professions in my case; but I haveobserved that similar prejudices are nourished in this countryagainst your professional brethren of the Episcopal persuasion,and I am willing to believe them equally unfounded in both cases.'
'Evil to him that thinks otherwise,' said Mr. Morton; 'or whoholds church government and ceremonies as the exclusive gage ofChristian faith or moral virtue.'
'But,' continued Waverley, 'I cannot perceive why I should troubleyou with a detail of particulars, out of which, after revolvingthem as carefully as possible in my recollection, I find myselfunable to explain much of what is charged against me. I know,indeed, that I am innocent, but I hardly see how I can hope toprove myself so.'
'It is for that very reason, Mr. Waverley,' said the clergyman,'that I venture to solicit your confidence. My knowledge ofindividuals in this country is pretty general, and can uponoccasion be extended. Your situation will, I fear, preclude yourtaking those active steps for recovering intelligence or tracingimposture which I would willingly undertake in your behalf; and ifyou are not benefited by my exertions, at least they cannot beprejudicial to you.'
Waverley, after a few minutes' reflection, was convinced that hisreposing confidence in Mr. Morton, so far as he himself wasconcerned, could hurt neither Mr. Bradwardine nor Fergus Mac-Ivor,both of whom had openly assumed arms against the government, andthat it might possibly, if the professions of his new friendcorresponded in sincerity with the earnestness of his expression,be of some service to himself. He therefore ran briefly over mostof the events with which the reader is already acquainted,suppressing his attachment to Flora, and indeed neither mentioningher nor Rose Bradwardine in the course of his narrative.
Mr. Morton seemed particularly struck with the account ofWaverley's visit to Donald Bean Lean. 'I am glad,' he said, 'youdid not mention this circumstance to the Major. It is capable ofgreat misconstruction on the part of those who do not consider thepower of curiosity and the influence of romance as motives ofyouthful conduct. When I was a young man like you, Mr. Waverley,any such hair-brained expedition (I beg your pardon for theexpression) would have had inexpressible charms for me. But thereare men in the world who will not believe that danger and fatigueare often incurred without any very adequate cause, and thereforewho are sometimes led to assign motives of action entirely foreignto the truth. This man Bean Lean is renowned through the countryas a sort of Robin Hood, and the stories which are told of hisaddress and enterprise are the common tales of the winterfireside. He certainly possesses talents beyond the rude sphere inwhich he moves; and, being neither destitute of ambition norencumbered with scruples, he will probably attempt, by everymeans, to distinguish himself during the period of these unhappycommotions.' Mr. Morton then made a careful memorandum of thevarious particulars of Waverley's interview with Donald Bean Leanand the other circumstances which he had communicated.
The interest which this good man seemed to take in hismisfortunes, above all, the full confidence he appeared to reposein his innocence, had the natural effect of softening Edward'sheart, whom the coldness of Major Melville had taught to believethat the world was leagued to oppress him. He shook Mr. Mortonwarmly by the hand, and, assuring him that his kindness andsympathy had relieved his mind of a heavy load, told him that,whatever might be his own fate, he belonged to a family who hadboth gratitude and the power of displaying it. The earnestness ofhis thanks called drops to the eyes of the worthy clergyman, whowas doubly interested in the cause for which he had volunteeredhis services, by observing the genuine and undissembled feelingsof his young friend.
Edward now inquired if Mr. Morton knew what was likely to be hisdestination.
'Stirling Castle,' replied his friend; 'and so far I am wellpleased for your sake, for the governor is a man of honour andhumanity. But I am more doubtful of your treatment upon the road;Major Melville is involuntarily obliged to intrust the custody ofyour person to another.'
'I am glad of it,' answered Waverley. 'I detest that cold-bloodedcalculating Scotch magistrate. I hope he and I shall never meetmore. He had neither sympathy
with my innocence nor with mywretchedness; and the petrifying accuracy with which he attendedto every form of civility, while he tortured me by his questions,his suspicions, and his inferences, was as tormenting as the racksof the Inquisition. Do not vindicate him, my dear sir, for that Icannot bear with patience; tell me rather who is to have thecharge of so important a state prisoner as I am.'
'I believe a person called Gilfillan, one of the sect who aretermed Cameronians.'
'I never heard of them before.'
'They claim,' said the clergyman, 'to represent the more strictand severe Presbyterians, who, in Charles Second's and JamesSecond's days, refused to profit by the Toleration, or Indulgence,as it was called, which was extended to others of that religion.They held conventicles in the open fields, and, being treated withgreat violence and cruelty by the Scottish government, more thanonce took arms during those reigns. They take their name fromtheir leader, Richard Cameron.'
'I recollect,' said Waverley; 'but did not the triumph ofPresbytery at the Revolution extinguish that sect?'
'By no means,' replied Morton; 'that great event fell yet farshort of what they proposed, which was nothing less than thecomplete establishment of the Presbyterian Church upon the groundsof the old Solemn League and Covenant. Indeed, I believe theyscarce knew what they wanted; but being a numerous body of men,and not unacquainted with the use of arms, they kept themselvestogether as a separate party in the state, and at the time of theUnion had nearly formed a most unnatural league with their oldenemies the Jacobites to oppose that important national measure.Since that time their numbers have gradually diminished; but agood many are still to be found in the western counties, andseveral, with a better temper than in 1707, have now taken armsfor government. This person, whom they call Gifted Gilfillan, hasbeen long a leader among them, and now heads a small party, whichwill pass here to-day or to-morrow on their march towardsStirling, under whose escort Major Melville proposes you shalltravel. I would willingly speak to Gilfillan in your behalf; but,having deeply imbibed all the prejudices of his sect, and being ofthe same fierce disposition, he would pay little regard to theremonstrances of an Erastian divine, as he would politely term me.And now, farewell, my young friend; for the present I must notweary out the Major's indulgence, that I may obtain his permissionto visit you again in the course of the day.'