Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since

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Waverley; Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since Page 35

by Walter Scott


  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THINGS MEND A LITTLE

  About noon, Mr. Morton returned, and brought an invitation from MajorMelville that Mr. Waverley would honour him with his company todinner, notwithstanding the unpleasant affair which detained him atCairnvreckan, from which he should heartily rejoice to see Mr. Waverleycompletely extricated. The truth was, that Mr. Morton's favourablereport and opinion had somewhat staggered the preconceptions of theold soldier concerning Edward's supposed accession to the mutiny inthe regiment; and in the unfortunate state of the country, the meresuspicion of disaffection, or an inclination to join the insurgentJacobites, might infer criminality indeed, but certainly not dishonour.Besides, a person whom 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 According to this second edition of the intelligence,the Highlanders had withdrawn from the Lowland frontier with the purposeof following the army in their march to Inverness. The Major was at aloss, indeed, to reconcile his information with the well-known abilitiesof some of the gentlemen in the Highland army, yet it was the coursewhich was likely to be most agreeable to others. He remembered thesame policy had detained them in the north in the year 1715, and heanticipated a similar termination to the insurrection as upon thatoccasion.

  This news put him in such good humour, that he readily acquiesced in Mr.Morton's proposal to pay some hospitable attention to his unfortunateguest, and voluntarily added, he hoped the whole affair would prove ayouthful escapade, which might be easily atoned by a short confinement.The kind mediator had some trouble to prevail on his young friend toaccept the invitation. He dared not urge to him the real motive, whichwas a good-natured wish to secure a favourable report of Waverley's casefrom Major Melville to Governor Blakeney. He remarked, from the flashesof our hero's spirit, that touching upon this topic would be sure todefeat his purpose. He therefore pleaded, that the invitation argued theMajor's disbelief of any part of the accusation which was inconsistentwith Waverley's conduct as a soldier and a man of honour, and that todecline his courtesy might be interpreted into a consciousness that itwas unmerited. In short, he so far satisfied Edward that the manly andproper course was to meet the Major on easy terms, that, suppressinghis strong dislike again to encounter his cold and punctilious civility,Waverley agreed to be guided by his new friend. The meeting, at first,was stiff and formal enough. But Edward, having accepted the invitation,and his mind being really soothed and relieved by the kindness ofMorton, held himself bound to behave with ease, though he could notaffect cordiality. The Major was somewhat of a BON VIVANT, and his winewas excellent. He told his old campaign stories, and displayed muchknowledge of men and manners. Mr. Morton had an internal fund of placidand quiet gaiety, which seldom failed to enliven any small party inwhich he found himself pleasantly seated. Waverley, whose life was adream, gave ready way to the predominating impulse, and became the mostlively of the party. He had at all times remarkable natural powers ofconversation, though easily silenced by discouragement. On the presentoccasion, he piqued himself upon leaving on the minds of his companionsa favourable impression of one who, under such disastrous circumstances,could sustain his misfortunes with ease and gaiety. His spirits, thoughnot unyielding, were abundantly elastic, and soon seconded his efforts.The trio were engaged in very lively discourse, apparently delightedwith each other, and the kind host was pressing a third bottle ofBurgundy, when the sound of a drum was heard at some distance. TheMajor, who, in the glee of an old soldier, had forgot the duties of amagistrate, cursed, with a muttered military oath, the circumstanceswhich recalled him to his official functions. He rose and went towardsthe window, which commanded a very near view of the high-road, and hewas followed by his guests.

  The drum advanced, beating no measured martial tune, but a kindof rub-a-dub-dub, like that with which the fire-drum startles theslumbering artisans of a Scotch burgh. It is the object of this historyto do justice to all men; I must therefore record, in justice to thedrummer, that he protested he could beat any known march or point ofwar known in the British army, and had accordingly commenced with'Dumbarton's Drums,' when he was silenced by Gifted Gilfillan, thecommander of the party, who refused to permit his followers to move tothis profane, and even, as he said, persecuting tune, and commanded thedrummer to beat the 119th Psalm. As this was beyond the capacity of thedrubber of sheepskin, he was fain to have recourse to the inoffensiverow-de-dow, as a harmless substitute for the sacred music which hisinstrument or skill were unable to achieve. This may be held a triflinganecdote, but the drummer in question was no less than town-drummerof Anderton. I remember his successor in office, a member of thatenlightened body, the British Convention: be his memory, therefore,treated with due respect.

 

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