Old Mortality, Volume 2.

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER XXII.

  The darksome cave they enter, where they found The accursed man low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullen mind. SPENSER.

  As the morning began to appear on the mountains, a gentle knock was heardat the door of the humble apartment in which Morton slept, and a girlishtreble voice asked him, from without, "If he wad please gang to the Linnor the folk raise?"

  He arose upon the invitation, and, dressing himself hastily, went forthand joined his little guide. The mountain maid tript lightly before him,through the grey haze, over hill and moor. It was a wild and varied walk,unmarked by any regular or distinguishable track, and keeping, upon thewhole, the direction of the ascent of the brook, though without tracingits windings. The landscape, as they advanced, became waster and morewild, until nothing but heath and rock encumbered the side of the valley.

  "Is the place still distant?" said Morton. "Nearly a mile off," answeredthe girl. "We'll be there belive."

  "And do you often go this wild journey, my little maid?"

  "When grannie sends me wi' milk and meal to the Linn," answered thechild.

  "And are you not afraid to travel so wild a road alone?"

  "Hout na, sir," replied the guide; "nae living creature wad touch sic abit thing as I am, and grannie says we need never fear onything else whenwe are doing a gude turn."

  "Strong in innocence as in triple mail!" said Morton to himself, andfollowed her steps in silence.

  They soon came to a decayed thicket, where brambles and thorns suppliedthe room of the oak and birches of which it had once consisted. Here theguide turned short off the open heath, and, by a sheep-track, conductedMorton to the brook. A hoarse and sullen roar had in part prepared himfor the scene which presented itself, yet it was not to be viewed withoutsurprise and even terror. When he emerged from the devious path whichconducted him through the thicket, he found himself placed on a ledge offlat rock projecting over one side of a chasm not less than a hundredfeet deep, where the dark mountain-stream made a decided and rapid shootover the precipice, and was swallowed up by a deep, black, yawning gulf.The eye in vain strove to see the bottom of the fall; it could catch butone sheet of foaming uproar and sheer descent, until the view wasobstructed by the proecting crags which enclosed the bottom of thewaterfall, and hid from sight the dark pool which received its torturedwaters; far beneath, at the distance of perhaps a quarter of a mile, theeye caught the winding of the stream as it emerged into a more opencourse. But, for that distance, they were lost to sight as much as if acavern had been arched over them; and indeed the steep and projectingledges of rock through which they wound their way in darkness were verynearly closing and over-roofing their course.

  While Morton gazed at this scene of tumult, which seemed, by thesurrounding thickets and the clefts into which the waters descended, toseek to hide itself from every eye, his little attendant as she stoodbeside him on the platform of rock which commanded the best view of thefall, pulled him by the sleeve, and said, in a tone which he could nothear without stooping his ear near the speaker, "Hear till him! Eh! heartill him!"

  Morton listened more attentively; and out of the very abyss into whichthe brook fell, and amidst the turnultuary sounds of the cataract,thought he could distinguish shouts, screams, and even articulate words,as if the tortured demon of the stream had been mingling his complaintswith the roar of his broken waters.

  "This is the way," said the little girl; "follow me, gin ye please, sir,but tak tent to your feet;" and, with the daring agility which custom hadrendered easy, she vanished from the platform on which she stood, and, bynotches and slight projections in the rock, scrambled down its face intothe chasm which it overhung. Steady, bold, and active, Morton hesitatednot to follow her; but the necessary attention to secure his hold andfooting in a descent where both foot and hand were needful for security,prevented him from looking around him, till, having descended nigh twentyfeet, and being sixty or seventy above the pool which received the fall,his guide made a pause, and he again found himself by her side in asituation that appeared equally romantic and precarious. They were nearlyopposite to the waterfall, and in point of level situated at aboutone-quarter's depth from the point of the cliff over which it thundered,and three-fourths of the height above the dark, deep, and restless poolwhich received its fall. Both these tremendous points--the first shoot,namely, of the yet unbroken stream, and the deep and sombre abyss intowhich it was emptied--were full before him, as well as the wholecontinuous stream of billowy froth, which, dashing from the one, waseddying and boiling in the other. They were so near this grand phenomenonthat they were covered with its spray, and well-nigh deafened by theincessant roar. But crossing in the very front of the fall, and at scarcethree yards distance from the cataract, an old oak-tree, flung across thechasm in a manner that seemed accidental, formed a bridge of fearfullynarrow dimensions and uncertain footing. The upper end of the tree restedon the platform on which they stood; the lower or uprooted extremityextended behind a projection on the opposite side, and was secured,Morton's eye could not discover where. From behind the same projectionglimmered a strong red light, which, glancing in the waves of the fallingwater, and tinging them partially with crimson, had a strangepreternatural and sinister effect when contrasted with the beams of therising sun, which glanced on the first broken waves of the fall, thougheven its meridian splendour could not gain the third of its full depth.When he had looked around him for a moment, the girl again pulled hissleeve, and, pointing to the oak and the projecting point beyond it (forhearing speech was now out of the question), indicated that there lay hisfarther passage.

  Morton gazed at her with surprise; for although he well knew that thepersecuted Presbyterians had in the preceding reigns sought refuge amongdells and thickets, caves and cataracts, in spots the most extraordinaryand secluded; although he had heard of the champions of the Covenant, whohad long abidden beside Dobs-lien on the wild heights of Polmoodie, andothers who had been concealed in the yet more terrific cavern calledCreehope-linn, in the parish of Closeburn,--yet his imagination had neverexactly figured out the horrors of such a residence, and he was surprisedhow the strange and romantic scene which he now saw had remainedconcealed from him, while a curious investigator of such naturalphenomena. But he readily conceived that, lying in a remote and wilddistrict, and being destined as a place of concealment to the persecutedpreachers and professors of nonconformity, the secret of its existencewas carefully preserved by the few shepherds to whom it might be known.As, breaking from these meditations, he began to consider how he shouldtraverse the doubtful and terrific bridge, which, skirted by the cascade,and rendered wet and slippery by its constant drizzle, traversed thechasm above sixty feet from the bottom of the fall, his guide, as if togive him courage, tript over and back without the least hesitation.Envying for a moment the little bare feet which caught a safer hold ofthe rugged side of the oak than he could pretend to with his heavy boots,Morton nevertheless resolved to attempt the passage, and, fixing his eyefirm on a stationary object on the other side, without allowing his headto become giddy, or his attention to be distracted by the flash, thefoam, and the roar of the waters around him, he strode steadily andsafely along the uncertain bridge, and reached the mouth of a smallcavern on the farther side of the torrent. Here he paused; for a light,proceeding from a fire of red-hot charcoal, permitted him to see theinterior of the cave, and enabled him to contemplate the appearance ofits inhabitant, by whom he himself could not be so readily distinguished,being concealed by the shadow of the rock. What he observed would by nomeans have encouraged a less determined man to proceed with the taskwhich he had undertaken.

  Burley, only altered from what he had been formerly by the addition of agrisly beard, stood in the midst of the cave, with his clasped Bible inone hand, and his drawn sword in the other. His figure, dimly ruddied bythe light of the red charcoal, seemed that of a fiend in the luridatmosphe
re of Pandemonium, and his gestures and words, as far as theycould be heard, seemed equally violent and irregular. All alone, and in aplace of almost unapproachable seclusion, his demeanour was that ofa man who strives for life and death with a mortal enemy. "Ha!ha!--there--there!" he exclaimed, accompanying each word with a thrust,urged with his whole force against the impassible and empty air, "Did Inot tell thee so?--I have resisted, and thou fleest from me!--Coward asthou art, come in all thy terrors; come with mine own evil deeds, whichrender thee most terrible of all,--there is enough betwixt the boards ofthis book to rescue me!--What mutterest thou of grey hairs? It was welldone to slay him,--the more ripe the corn, the readier for the sickle.--Art gone? Art gone?--I have ever known thee but a coward--ha! ha! ha!"

  With these wild exclamations he sunk the point of his sword, and remainedstanding still in the same posture, like a maniac whose fit is over.

  "The dangerous time is by now," said the little girl who had followed;"it seldom lasts beyond the time that the sun's ower the hill; ye maygang in and speak wi' him now. I'll wait for you at the other side of thelinn; he canna bide to see twa folk at anes."

  Slowly and cautiously, and keeping constantly upon his guard, Mortonpresented himself to the view of his old associate in command.

  "What! comest thou again when thine hour is over?" was his firstexclamation; and flourishing his sword aloft, his countenance assumed anexpression in which ghastly terror seemed mingled with the rage of ademoniac.

  "I am come, Mr. Balfour," said Morton, in a steady and composed tone,"to renew an acquaintance which has been broken off since the fight ofBothwell Bridge."

  As soon as Burley became aware that Morton was before him in person,--anidea which he caught with marvellous celerity,--he at once exerted thatmastership over his heated and enthusiastic imagination, the power ofenforcing which was a most striking part of his extraordinary character.He sunk his sword-point at once, and as he stole it composedly into thescabbard, he muttered something of the damp and cold which sent an oldsoldier to his fencing exercise, to prevent his blood from chilling. Thisdone, he proceeded in the cold, determined manner which was peculiar tohis ordinary discourse:--

  "Thou hast tarried long, Henry Morton, and hast not come to the vintagebefore the twelfth hour has struck. Art thou yet willing to take theright hand of fellowship, and be one with those who look not to thronesor dynasties, but to the rule of Scripture, for their directions?"

  Morton and Black Linn--272]

  "I am surprised," said Morton, evading the direct answer to his question,"that you should have known me after so many years."

  "The features of those who ought to act with me are engraved on myheart," answered Burley; "and few but Silas Morton's son durst havefollowed me into this my castle of retreat. Seest thou that drawbridge ofNature's own construction?" he added, pointing to the prostrateoak-tree,--"one spurn of my foot, and it is overwhelmed in the abyssbelow, bidding foeman on the farther side stand at defiance, and leavingenemies on this at the mercy of one who never yet met his equal in singlefight."

  "Of such defences," said Morton, "I should have thought you would nowhave had little need."

  "Little need?" said Burley impatiently. "What little need, when incarnatefiends are combined against me on earth, and Sathan himself--But itmatters not," added he, checking himself. "Enough that I like my placeof refuge, my cave of Adullam, and would not change its rude ribs oflimestone rock for the fair chambers of the castle of the earls ofTorwood, with their broad bounds and barony. Thou, unless the foolishfever-fit be over, mayst think differently."

  "It was of those very possessions I came to speak," said Morton; "and Idoubt not to find Mr. Balfour the same rational and reflecting personwhich I knew him to be in times when zeal disunited brethren."

  "Ay?" said Burley; "indeed? Is such truly your hope? Wilt thou express itmore plainly?"

  "In a word, then," said Morton, "you have exercised, by means at which Ican guess, a secret, but most prejudicial, influence over the fortunes ofLady Margaret Bellenden and her granddaughter, and in favour of thatbase, oppressive apostate, Basil Olifant, whom the law, deceived by thyoperations, has placed in possession of their lawful property."

  "Sayest thou?" said Balfour.

  "I do say so," replied Morton; "and face to face you will not deny whatyou have vouched by your handwriting."

  "And suppose I deny it not," said Balfour; "and suppose thatthy--eloquence were found equal to persuade me to retrace the steps Ihave taken on matured resolve,--what will be thy meed? Dost thou stillhope to possess the fair-haired girl, with her wide and richinheritance?"

  "I have no such hope," answered Morton, calmly.

  "And for whom, then, hast thou ventured to do this great thing,--to seekto rend the prey from the valiant, to bring forth food from the den ofthe lion, and to extract sweetness from the maw of the devourer? Forwhose sake hast thou undertaken to read this riddle, more hard thanSamson's?"

  "For Lord Evandale's and that of his bride," replied Morton, firmly."Think better of mankind, Mr. Balfour, and believe there are some who arewilling to sacrifice their happiness to that of others."

  "Then, as my soul liveth," replied Balfour, "thou art, to wear beard andback a horse and draw a sword, the tamest and most gall-less puppet thatever sustained injury unavenged. What! thou wouldst help that accursedEvandale to the arms of the woman that thou lovest; thou wouldst endowthem with wealth and with heritages, and thou think'st that there livesanother man, offended even more deeply than thou, yet equallycold-livered and mean-spirited, crawling upon the face of the earth,and hast dared to suppose that one other to be John Balfour?"

  "For my own feelings," said Morton, composedly, "I am answerable to nonebut Heaven; to you, Mr. Balfour, I should suppose it of littleconsequence whether Basil Olifant or Lord Evandale possess theseestates."

  "Thou art deceived," said Burley; "both are indeed in outer darkness,and strangers to the light, as he whose eyes have never been opened tothe day. But this Basil Olifant is a Nabal, a Demas, a base churl whosewealth and power are at the disposal of him who can threaten to deprivehim of them. He became a professor because he was deprived of these landsof Tillietudlem; he turned a papist to obtain possession of them; hecalled himself an Erastian, that he might not again lose them; and hewill become what I list while I have in my power the document that maydeprive him of them. These lands are a bit between his jaws and a hook inhis nostrils, and the rein and the line are in my hands to guide them asI think meet; and his they shall therefore be, unless I had assurance ofbestowing them on a sure and sincere friend. But Lord Evandale is amalignant, of heart like flint, and brow like adamant; the goods of theworld fall on him like leaves on the frost-bound earth, and unmoved hewill see them whirled off by the first wind. The heathen virtues of suchas he are more dangerous to us than the sordid cupidity of those who,governed by their interest, must follow where it leads, and who,therefore, themselves the slaves of avarice, may be compelled to workin the vineyard, were it but to earn the wages of sin."

  "This might have been all well some years since," replied Morton, "and Icould understand your argument, although I could never acquiesce in itsjustice. But at this crisis it seems useless to you to persevere inkeeping up an influence which can no longer be directed to an usefulpurpose. The land has peace, liberty, and freedom of conscience,--andwhat would you more?"

  "More!" exclaimed Burley, again unsheathing his sword, with a vivacitywhich nearly made Morton start. "Look at the notches upon that weaponthey are three in number, are they not?"

  "It seems so," answered Morton; "but what of that?"

  "The fragment of steel that parted from this first gap rested on theskull of the perjured traitor who first introduced Episcopacy intoScotland; this second notch was made in the rib-bone of an impiousvillain, the boldest and best soldier that upheld the prelatic cause atDrumclog; this third was broken on the steel head-piece of the captainwho defended the Chapel of Holyrood when the people rose at theRevolu
tion. I cleft him to the teeth, through steel and bone. It has donegreat deeds, this little weapon, and each of these blows was adeliverance to the Church. This sword," he said, again sheathing it,"has yet more to do,--to weed out this base and pestilential heresy ofErastianism; to vindicate the true liberty of the Kirk in her purity;to restore the Covenant in its glory,--then let it moulder and rustbeside the bones of its master."

  "You have neither men nor means, Mr. Balfour, to disturb the Governmentas now settled," argued Morton; "the people are in general satisfied,excepting only the gentlemen of the Jacobite interest; and surely youwould not join with those who would only use you for their own purposes?"

  "It is they," answered Burley, "that should serve ours. I went to thecamp of the malignant Claver'se, as the future King of Israel sought theland of the Philistines; I arranged with him a rising; and but for thevillain Evandale, the Erastians ere now had been driven from the West.--I could slay him," he added, with a vindictive scowl, "were he graspingthe horns of the altar!" He then proceeded in a calmer tone: "If thou,son of mine ancient comrade, were suitor for thyself to this EdithBellenden, and wert willing to put thy hand to the great work with zealequal to thy courage, think not I would prefer the friendship of BasilOlifant to thine; thou shouldst then have the means that this document[he produced a parchment] affords to place her in possession of the landsof her fathers. This have I longed to say to thee ever since I saw theefight the good fight so strongly at the fatal Bridge. The maiden lovedthee, and thou her."

  Morton replied firmly, "I will not dissemble with you, Mr. Balfour, evento gain a good end. I came in hopes to persuade you to do a deed ofjustice to others, not to gain any selfish end of my own. I have failed;I grieve for your sake more than for the loss which others will sustainby your injustice."

  "You refuse my proffer, then?" said Burley, with kindling eyes.

  "I do," said Morton. "Would you be really, as you are desirous to bethought, a man of honour and conscience, you would, regardless of allother considerations, restore that parchment to Lord Evandale, to be usedfor the advantage of the lawful heir."

  "Sooner shall it perish!" said Balfour; and, casting the deed into theheap of red charcoal beside him, pressed it down with the heel of hisboot.

  While it smoked, shrivelled, and crackled in the flames, Morton sprungforward to snatch it, and Burley catching hold of him, a struggle ensued.Both were strong men; but although Morton was much the more active andyounger of the two, yet Balfour was the most powerful, and effectuallyprevented him from rescuing the deed until it was fairly reduced to acinder. They then quitted hold of each other, and the enthusiast,rendered fiercer by the contest, glared on Morton with an eye expressiveof frantic revenge.

  "Thou hast my secret," he exclaimed; "thou must be mine, or die!"

  "I contemn your threats," said Morton; "I pity you, and leave you."But as he turned to retire, Burley stept before him, pushed the oak-trunkfrom its resting place, and as it fell thundering and crashing into theabyss beneath, drew his sword, and cried out, with a voice that rivalledthe roar of the cataract and the thunder of the falling oak, "Now thouart at bay! Fight,--yield, or die!" and standing in the mouth of thecavern, he flourished his naked sword.

  "I will not fight with the man that preserved my father's life," saidMorton. "I have not yet learned to say the words, 'I yield;' and my lifeI will rescue as I best can."

  So speaking, and ere Balfour was aware of his purpose, he sprung pasthim, and exerting that youthful agility of which he possessed an uncommonshare, leaped clear across the fearful chasm which divided the mouth ofthe cave from the projecting rock on the opposite side, and stood theresafe and free from his incensed enemy. He immediately ascended theravine, and, as he turned, saw Burley stand for an instant aghast withastonishment, and then, with the frenzy of disappointed rage, rush intothe interior of his cavern.

  It was not difficult for him to perceive that this unhappy man's mind hadbeen so long agitated by desperate schemes and sudden disappointmentsthat it had lost its equipoise, and that there was now in his conduct ashade of lunacy, not the less striking, from the vigour and craft withwhich he pursued his wild designs. Morton soon joined his guide, who hadbeen terrified by the fall of the oak. This he represented as accidental;and she assured him, in return, that the inhabitant of the cave wouldexperience no inconvenience from it, being always provided with materialsto construct another bridge.

  The adventures of the morning were not yet ended. As they approached thehut, the little girl made an exclamation of surprise at seeing hergrandmother groping her way towards them, at a greater distance from herhome than she could have been supposed capable of travelling.

  "Oh, sir, sir!" said the old woman, when she heard them approach, "gine'er ye loved Lord Evandale, help now, or never! God be praised that leftmy hearing when he took my poor eyesight! Come this way,--this way. Andoh, tread lightly. Peggy, hinny, gang saddle the gentleman's horse, andlead him cannily ahint the thorny shaw, and bide him there."

  She conducted him to a small window, through which, himself unobserved,he could see two dragoons seated at their morning draught of ale, andconversing earnestly together.

  "The more I think of it," said the one, "the less I like it, Inglis;Evandale was a good officer and the soldier's friend; and though we werepunished for the mutiny at Tillietudlem, yet, by ---, Frank, you must ownwe deserved it."

  "D--n seize me if I forgive him for it, though!" replied the other; "andI think I can sit in his skirts now."

  "Why, man, you should forget and forgive. Better take the start with himalong with the rest, and join the ranting Highlanders. We have all eatKing James's bread."

  "Thou art an ass; the start, as you call it, will never happen,--theday's put off. Halliday's seen a ghost, or Miss Bellenden's fallen sickof the pip, or some blasted nonsense or another; the thing will neverkeep two days longer, and the first bird that sings out will get thereward."

  "That's true too," answered his comrade; "and will this fellow--thisBasil Olifant--pay handsomely?"

  "Like a prince, man," said Inglis. "Evandale is the man on earth whom hehates worst, and he fears him, besides, about some law business; and werehe once rubbed out of the way, all, he thinks, will be his own."

  "But shall we have warrants and force enough?" said the other fellow."Few people here will stir against my lord, and we may find him with someof our own fellows at his back."

  "Thou 'rt a cowardly fool, Dick," returned Inglis; he is living quietlydown at Fairy Knowe to avoid suspicion. Olifant is a magistrate, and willhave some of his own people that he can trust along with him. There areus two, and the laird says he can get a desperate fighting Whig fellow,called Quintin Mackell, that has an old grudge at Evandale."

  "Well, well, you are my officer, you know," said the private, with truemilitary conscience, "and if anything is wrong--"

  "I'll take the blame," said Inglis. "Come, another pot of ale, and let usto Tillietudlem.--Here, blind Bess!--Why, where the devil has the old hagcrept to?"

  "Delay them as long as you can," whispered Morton, as he thrust his purseinto the hostess's hand; "all depends on gaining time."

  Then, walking swiftly to the place where the girl held his horse ready,"To Fairy Knowe? No; alone I could not protect them. I must instantly toGlasgow. Wittenbold, the commandant there, will readily give me thesupport of a troop, and procure me the countenance of the civil power. Imust drop a caution as I pass.--Come, Moorkopf," he said, addressing hishorse as he mounted him, "this day must try your breath and speed."