by Walter Scott
CHAPTER VI.
Let not us that are squires of the night's body be called thieves of the day's booty; let us be Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon. --HENRY THE FOURTH, PART I.
The Solitary had consumed the remainder of that day in which he had theinterview with the young ladies, within the precincts of his garden.Evening again found him seated on his favourite stone. The sun settingred, and among seas of rolling clouds, threw a gloomy lustre over themoor, and gave a deeper purple to the broad outline of heathy mountainswhich surrounded this desolate spot. The Dwarf sate watching the cloudsas they lowered above each other in masses of conglomerated vapours,and, as a strong lurid beam of the sinking luminary darted full on hissolitary and uncouth figure, he might well have seemed the demon ofthe storm which was gathering, or some gnome summoned forth from therecesses of the earth by the subterranean signals of its approach. As hesate thus, with his dark eye turned towards the scowling and blackeningheaven, a horseman rode rapidly up to him, and stopping, as if tolet his horse breathe for an instant, made a sort of obeisance to theanchoret, with an air betwixt effrontery and embarrassment.
The figure of the rider was thin, tall, and slender, but remarkablyathletic, bony, and sinewy; like one who had all his life followed thoseviolent exercises which prevent the human form from increasing in bulk,while they harden and confirm by habit its muscular powers. His face,sharp-featured, sun-burnt, and freckled, had a sinister expression ofviolence, impudence, and cunning, each of which seemed alternately topredominate over the others. Sandy-coloured hair, and reddish eyebrows,from under which looked forth his sharp grey eyes, completed theinauspicious outline of the horseman's physiognomy. He had pistols inhis holsters, and another pair peeped from his belt, though he had takensome pains to conceal them by buttoning his doublet. He wore a rustedsteel head piece; a buff jacket of rather an antique cast; gloves, ofwhich that for the right hand was covered with small scales of iron,like an ancient gauntlet; and a long broadsword completed his equipage.
"So," said the Dwarf, "rapine and murder once more on horseback."
"On horseback?" said the bandit; "ay, ay, Elshie, your leech-craft hasset me on the bonny bay again."
"And all those promises of amendment which you made during your illnessforgotten?" continued Elshender.
"All clear away, with the water-saps and panada," returned the unabashedconvalescent. "Ye ken, Elshie, for they say ye are weel acquent wi' thegentleman,
"When the devil was sick, the devil a monk would be, When the devil was well, the devil a monk was he."
"Thou say'st true," said the Solitary; "as well divide a wolf from hisappetite for carnage, or a raven from her scent of slaughter, as theefrom thy accursed propensities."
"Why, what would you have me to do? It's born with me--lies in myvery blude and bane. Why, man, the lads of Westburnflat, for ten langdescents, have been reivers and lifters. They have all drunk hard, livedhigh, taking deep revenge for light offence, and never wanted gear forthe winning."
"Right; and thou art as thorough-bred a wolf," said the Dwarf, "as everleapt a lamb-fold at night. On what hell's errand art thou bound now?"
"Can your skill not guess?"
"Thus far I know," said the Dwarf, "that thy purpose is bad, thy deedwill be worse, and the issue worst of all."
"And you like me the better for it, Father Elshie, eh?" saidWestburnflat; "you always said you did."
"I have cause to like all," answered the Solitary, "that are scourges totheir fellow-creatures, and thou art a bloody one."
"No--I say not guilty to that--lever bluidy unless there's resistance,and that sets a man's bristles up, ye ken. And this is nae great matter,after a'; just to cut the comb of a young cock that has been crawing alittle ower crousely."
"Not young Earnscliff?" said the Solitary, with some emotion.
"No; not young Earnscliff--not young Earnscliff YET; but his time maycome, if he will not take warning, and get him back to the burrow-townthat he's fit for, and no keep skelping about here, destroying thefew deer that are left in the country, and pretending to act as amagistrate, and writing letters to the great folk at Auld Reekie, aboutthe disturbed state of the land. Let him take care o' himsell."
"Then it must be Hobbie of the Heugh-foot," said Elshie. "What harm hasthe lad done you?"
"Harm! nae great harm; but I hear he says I staid away from the Ba'spielon Fastern's E'en, for fear of him; and it was only for fear of theCountry Keeper, for there was a warrant against me. I'll stand Hobbie'sfeud, and a' his clan's. But it's not so much for that, as to gie hima lesson not to let his tongue gallop ower freely about his betters. Itrow he will hae lost the best pen-feather o' his wing before to-morrowmorning.--Farewell, Elshie; there's some canny boys waiting for me downamang the shaws, owerby; I will see you as I come back, and bring ye ablithe tale in return for your leech-craft."
Ere the Dwarf could collect himself to reply, the Reiver of Westburnflatset spurs to his horse. The animal, starting at one of the stones whichlay scattered about, flew from the path. The rider exercised his spurswithout moderation or mercy. The horse became furious, reared, kicked,plunged, and bolted like a deer, with all his four feet off the groundat once. It was in vain; the unrelenting rider sate as if he had beena part of the horse which he bestrode; and, after a short but furiouscontest, compelled the subdued animal to proceed upon the path at a ratewhich soon carried him out of sight of the Solitary.
"That villain," exclaimed the Dwarf,--"that cool-blooded, hardened,unrelenting ruffian,--that wretch, whose every thought is infected withcrimes,--has thewes and sinews, limbs, strength, and activity enough, tocompel a nobler animal than himself to carry him to the place where heis to perpetrate his wickedness; while I, had I the weakness to wish toput his wretched victim on his guard, and to save the helpless family,would see my good intentions frustrated by the decrepitude which chainsme to the spot.--Why should I wish it were otherwise? What have myscreech-owl voice, my hideous form, and my mis-shapen features, todo with the fairer workmanship of nature? Do not men receive even mybenefits with shrinking horror and ill-suppressed disgust? And whyshould I interest myself in a race which accounts me a prodigy and anoutcast, and which has treated me as such? No; by all the ingratitudewhich I have reaped--by all the wrongs which I have sustained--by myimprisonment, my stripes, my chains, I will wrestle down my feelings ofrebellious humanity! I will not be the fool I have been, to swerve frommy principles whenever there was an appeal, forsooth, to my feelings; asif I, towards whom none show sympathy, ought to have sympathy with anyone. Let Destiny drive forth her scythed car through the overwhelmed andtrembling mass of humanity! Shall I be the idiot to throw this decrepitform, this mis-shapen lump of mortality, under her wheels, that theDwarf, the Wizard, the Hunchback, may save from destruction some fairform or some active frame, and all the world clap their hands at theexchange? No, never!--And yet this Elliot--this Hobbie, so young andgallant, so frank, so--I will think of it no longer. I cannot aid him ifI would, and I am resolved--firmly resolved, that I would not aid him,if a wish were the pledge of his safety!"
Having thus ended his soliloquy, he retreated into his hut for shelterfrom the storm which was fast approaching, and now began to burst inlarge and heavy drops of rain. The last rays of the sun now disappearedentirely, and two or three claps of distant thunder followed each otherat brief intervals, echoing and re-echoing among the range of heathyfells like the sound of a distant engagement.