Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since — Volume 1

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THINGS MEND A LITTLE

  About noon Mr. Morton returned and brought an invitation fromMajor Melville that Mr. Waverley would honour him with his companyto dinner, notwithstanding the unpleasant affair which detainedhim at Cairnvreckan, from which he should heartily rejoice to seeMr. Waverley completely extricated. The truth was that Mr.Morton's favourable report and opinion had somewhat staggered thepreconceptions of the old soldier concerning Edward's supposedaccession to the mutiny in the regiment; and in the unfortunatestate of the country the mere suspicion of disaffection or aninclination to join the insurgent Jacobites might infercriminality indeed, but certainly not dishonour. Besides, a personwhom the Major trusted had reported to him (though, as it proved,inaccurately) a contradiction of the agitating news of thepreceding evening. According to this second edition of theintelligence, the Highlanders had withdrawn from the Lowlandfrontier with the purpose of following the army in their march toInverness. The Major was at a loss, indeed, to reconcile hisinformation with the well-known abilities of some of the gentlemenin the Highland army, yet it was the course which was likely to bemost agreeable to others. He remembered the same policy haddetained them in the north in the year 1715, and he anticipated asimilar termination to the insurrection as upon that occasion.

  This news put him in such good-humour that he readily acquiescedin Mr. Morton's proposal to pay some hospitable attention to hisunfortunate guest, and voluntarily added, he hoped the wholeaffair would prove a youthful escapade, which might be easilyatoned by a short confinement. The kind mediator had some troubleto prevail on his young friend to accept the invitation. He darednot urge to him the real motive, which was a good-natured wish tosecure a favourable report of Waverley's case from Major Melvilleto Governor Blakeney. He remarked, from the flashes of our hero'sspirit, that touching upon this topic would be sure to defeat hispurpose. He therefore pleaded that the invitation argued theMajor's disbelief of any part of the accusation which wasinconsistent with Waverley's conduct as a soldier and a man ofhonour, and that to decline his courtesy might be interpreted intoa consciousness that it was unmerited. In short, he so farsatisfied Edward that the manly and proper course was to meet theMajor on easy terms that, suppressing his strong dislike again toencounter his cold and punctilious civility, Waverley agreed to beguided by his new friend.

  The meeting at first was stiff and formal enough. But Edward,having accepted the invitation, and his mind being really soothedand relieved by the kindness of Morton, held himself bound tobehave with ease, though he could not affect cordiality. The Majorwas somewhat of a bon vivant, and his wine was excellent. He toldhis old campaign stories, and displayed much knowledge of men andmanners. Mr. Morton had an internal fund of placid and quietgaiety, which seldom failed to enliven any small party in which hefound himself pleasantly seated. Waverley, whose life was a dream,gave ready way to the predominating impulse and became the mostlively of the party. He had at all times remarkable natural powersof conversation, though easily silenced by discouragement. On thepresent occasion he piqued himself upon leaving on the minds ofhis companions a favourable impression of one who, under suchdisastrous circumstances, could sustain his misfortunes with easeand gaiety. His spirits, though not unyielding, were abundantlyelastic, and soon seconded his efforts. The trio were engaged invery lively discourse, apparently delighted with each other, andthe kind host was pressing a third bottle of Burgundy, when thesound of a drum was heard at some distance. The Major, who, in theglee of an old soldier, had forgot the duties of a magistrate,cursed, with a muttered military oath, the circumstances whichrecalled him to his official functions. He rose and went towardsthe window, which commanded a very near view of the highroad, andhe was followed by his guests.

  The drum advanced, beating no measured martial tune, but a kind ofrub-a-dub-dub, like that with which the fire-drum startles theslumbering artizans of a Scotch burgh. It is the object of thishistory to do justice to all men; I must therefore record, injustice to the drummer, that he protested he could beat any knownmarch or point of war known in the British army, and hadaccordingly commenced with 'Dumbarton's Drums,' when he wassilenced by Gifted Gilfillan, the commander of the party, whorefused to permit his followers to move to this profane, and even,as he said, persecutive tune, and commanded the drummer to beatthe 119th Psalm. As this was beyond the capacity of the drubber ofsheepskin, he was fain to have recourse to the inoffensive row-de-dow as a harmless substitute for the sacred music which hisinstrument or skill were unable to achieve. This may be held atrifling anecdote, but the drummer in question was no less thantown-drummer of Anderton. I remember his successor in office, amember of that enlightened body, the British Convention. Be hismemory, therefore, treated with due respect.