 Section 33 of Waverly, Volume 1, this is the LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Waverly, or to 60 years since, Volume 1 by Sir Walter Scott, Section 33 Chapter 28 A Letter from Tully Violin In the morning, when Waverly's troubled reflections had for some time given way to repose, there came music to his dreams, but not the voice of Selma. He imagined himself transported back to Tully Violin, and that he heard Davy Galatly singing in the court, those matins which used generally to be the first sounds that disturbed his repose, while a guest of the Baron of Bradwardine. The notes which suggested this vision continued, and waxed louder, until Edward awoken earnest. The illusion, however, did not seem entirely dispelled. The apartment was in the fortress of Jan Nanchastel, but it was still the voice of Davy Galatly that made the following lines resound under the window. My heart's in the highlands, my heart is not here, my heart's in the highlands are chasing the deer, are chasing the wild deer and following the roar, my heart's in the highlands wherever I go. Footnote, these lines form the burden of an old song to which Burns wrote additional verses. Curious to know what could have determined Mr Galatly on an excursion of such unwanted extent, Edward began to dress himself in all haste, during which operation the minstrel sea of Davy changed its tune more than once. There is not in the highlands but sabers and leeks, and long-legged cullens go in wanting the bricks, wanting the bricks, and without hoes and shun, but we'll all win the bricks when King Jaime comes home. Footnote, these lines are also ancient, and I believe, to the tune of, we'll never have peace till Jaime comes home, to which Burns likewise wrote some verses. By the time Waverly was dressed and had issued forth, David had associated himself with two or three of the numerous highland loungers who always graced the gates of the castle with their presence, and was capering and dancing full merrily in the doubles and full career of a scotch foursome real to the music of his own whistling. In this double capacity of dancer and musician he continued, until an idle piper, who observed his zeal, obeyed the unanimous call of Shared Suas, i.e. blow up, and relieved him from the latter part of his trouble. Young and old then mingled in the dance as they could find partners. The appearance of Waverly did not interrupt David's exercise, though he contrived by grinning, nodding, and throwing one or two inclinations of the body into the graces with which he performed the highland fling to convey to our hero symptoms of recognition. Then, while busily employed in setting, hooping all the while, and snapping his fingers over his head, he of a sudden prolonged his sidestep until it brought him to the place where Edward was standing, and still keeping time to the music like Harlequin in a pantomime, he thrust a letter into our hero's hand, and continued his salutation without pause or intermission. Edward, who perceived that the address was in Rose's handwriting, retired to peruse it, leaving the faithful bearer to continue his exercise until the piper or he should be tired out. The contents of the letter greatly surprised him. It had originally commenced with Dear Sir, but these words had been carefully erased, and the monosyllable Sir substituted in their place. The rest of the contents shall be given in Rose's own language. I fear I am using an improper freedom by intruding upon you, yet I cannot trust to anyone else to let you know some things which have happened here, with which it seems necessary you should be acquainted. Forgive me if I am wrong in what I am doing, for alas, Mr Waverly, I have no better advice than that of my own feelings. My dear father is gone from this place, and when he can return to my assistance and protection, God alone knows. You have probably heard that, in consequence of some troublesome news from the Highlands, warrants were sent out for apprehending several gentlemen in these parts, and among others, my dear father. In spite of all my tears and entreaties that he would surrender himself to the government, he joined with Mr Falconer and some other gentlemen, and they have all gone northwards with a body of about forty horsemen. So I am not so anxious concerning his immediate safety as about what may follow afterwards, for these troubles are only beginning. But all this is nothing to you, Mr Waverly. Only I thought you would be glad to learn that my father has escaped, in case you happen to have heard that he was in danger. The day after my father went off there came a party of soldiers to Tullaviolan, and behaved very rudely to Bailey McQueenville, but the officer was very civil to me, only said his duty obliged him to search for arms and papers. My father had provided against this by taking away all the arms except the old useless things which hung in the hall, and he had put all his papers out of the way. But oh Mr Waverly, how shall I tell you that they made strict inquiry after you, and asked when you had been at Tullaviolan, and where you now were? The officer has gone back with his party, but a non-commissioned officer and four men remain as a sort of garrison in the house. They have hitherto behaved very well, as we are forced to keep them in good humour. But these soldiers have hinted as if, on your falling into their hands, you would be in great danger. I cannot prevail on myself to write what wicked falsehoods they said, for I am sure they are falsehoods. But you will best judge what you ought to do, the party that returned to carried off your servant prisoner, with your two horses, and everything that you left at Tullaviolan. I hope God will protect you, and that you will get safe home to England, where you used to tell me there was no military violence, nor fighting among clans permitted. But everything was done according to an equal law that protected all who were harmless and innocent. I hope you will exert your indulgence as to my boldness in writing to you, where it seems to me, though perhaps erroneously, that your safety and honour are concerned. I am sure, at least I think, my father would approve of my writing, for Mr Rubrik has fled to his cousins at the Dukkaren, to be out of danger from the soldiers and the wigs. And Bailey McWeable does not like to meddle, he says, in other men's concerns, though I hope what may serve my father's friend at such a time as this cannot be termed improper interference. Farewell, Captain Waverly. I shall probably never see you more, for it would be very improper to wish you to call it Tullaviolan just now, even if these men were gone. But I will always remember with gratitude your kindness in assisting so poor a scholar as myself, and your attentions to my dear, dear father. I remain your oblige to servant, Rose Common Bradfordine. P.S. I hope you will send me a line by David Galatly, just to say you have received this, and that you will take care of yourself. And forgive me, if I entreat you, for your own sake, to join none of these unhappy cabals, but escape as fast as possible to your own fortunate country. My compliments to my dear Flora and to Glenocoac. Is she not as handsome and accomplished as I have described her? Thus concluded the letter of Rose Bradfordine, the contents of which both surprised and affected Waverly, that the Baron should fall under the suspicions of government, in consequence of the present stir among the partisans of the House of Stuart, seemed only the natural consequence of his political predilections. But how he himself should have been involved in such suspicions, conscious that until yesterday he had been free from harboring a thought against the prosperity of the reigning family, seemed inexplicable. Both at Tully Violin and Glenocoac, his hosts had respected his engagements with the existing government, and though enough passed by accidental innuendo, that might induce him to reckon the Baron and the chief among those disaffected gentlemen who were still numerous in Scotland. Yet until his own connection with the army had been broken off by the resumption of his commission, he had no reason to suppose that they nourished any immediate or hostile attempts against the present establishment. Still he was aware that, unless he meant at once to embrace the proposal of Fergus McIver, it would deeply concern him to leave the suspicious neighbourhood without delay, and repair where his conduct might undergo a satisfactory examination. Upon this he, the rather determined, as Flora's advice favoured his doing so, and because he felt inexpressible repugnance at the idea of being accessory to the plague of civil war, whatever were the original rights of the stewards, calm reflection told him that, omitting the question how far James II could forfeit those of his posterity, he had, according to the united voice of the whole nation, justly forfeited his own. Since that period, four monarchs had reigned in peace and glory over Britain, sustaining and exalting the character of the nation abroad and its liberties at home. Reason asked, was it worthwhile to disturb a government so long settled and established, and to plunge a kingdom into all the miseries of civil war, for the purpose of replacing upon the throne the descendants of a monarch by whom it had been willfully forfeited. If, on the other hand, his own final conviction of the goodness of their cause, or the commands of his father or uncle should recommend to him allegiance to the stewards, still it was necessary to clear his own character by showing that he had not, as seemed to be falsely insinuated, taken any step to this purpose during his holding the commission of the reigning monarch. A fact in its simplicity of rose, and her anxiety for his safety, his sense too of her unprotected state, and of the terror and actual dangers to which she might be exposed, made an impression upon his mind, and he instantly wrote to thank her in the kindest terms for her solicitude on his account, to express his earnest good wishes for her welfare, and that of her father, and to assure her of his own safety. The feelings which this task excited were speedily lost in the necessity which he now saw of bidding farewell to Flora MacIver, perhaps forever. The pang attending this reflection was inexpressible, for her high-minded elevation of character, her self-devotion to the cause which she had embraced, united to her scrupulous rectitude as to the means of serving it, had vindicated to his judgment the choice adopted by his passions. But time pressed, Calumny was busy with his fame, and every hour's delay increased the power to injure it. His departure must be instant. With this determination he sought out Fergus, and communicated to him the contents of Rose's letter, with his own resolution instantly to go to Edinburgh, and put into the hands of some one or other of those persons of influence, to whom he had letters from his father, his exculpation from any charge which might be preferred against him. You run your head into the lion's mouth, answered MacIver. You do not know the severity of a government harassed by just apprehensions, and a consciousness of their own illegality and insecurity. I shall have to deliver you from some dungeon in Stirling or Edinburgh Castle. My innocence, my rank, my father's intimacy with Lord M, General G, etc., will be a sufficient protection, said Waverly. You will find at the contrary, replied the chieftain, these gentlemen will have enough to do about their own matters. Once more, will you take the plaid, and stay a little while with us, among the mists and the crows, in the bravest cause ever soared was drawn in? Footnote, a Highland Rhyme on Glen Cairns, Expedition in 1650, has these lines. For many reasons, my dear Fergus, you must hold me excused. Well then, said MacIver, I shall certainly find you exerting your poetical talents and elegies upon a prison, or your antiquarian researchers in detecting the Ogham. Footnote, a Highland Rhyme on Glen Cairns, Expedition in 1650, has these lines. Footnote, the Ogham is a species of the old Irish character. The idea of the correspondence betwixt the Celtic and Punic, founded on a scene in Plautus, was not started till General Valancy set up his theory long after the date of Fergus MacIver. Character or some Punic hieroglyphic upon the keystones of a vault, curiously arched? Or what say you to Ampétit Pond in Mont-Bienchon-les, against which awkward ceremony I don't warrant you, should you meet a body of the armed West Country wigs? And why should they use me so? said Waverly. For a hundred good reasons, answered Fergus. First, you are an Englishman. Secondly, a gentleman. Thirdly, a preletist, abjured. And fourthly, they have not had an opportunity to exercise their talents on such a subject this long while. But don't be cast down, beloved, all will be done in the fear of the Lord. Well, I must run my hazard. You are determined then? I am. Willful will do it, said Fergus. But you cannot go on foot, and I shall want no horse, as I must march on foot at the head of the children of Iver. You shall have brown dermat. If you will sell him, I shall certainly be much obliged. If your proud English heart cannot be obliged by a gift or loan, I will not refuse money at the entrance of a campaign. His price is twenty guineas. Remember, reader, it was sixty years since. And when do you propose to depart? The sooner, the better, answered Waverly. You are right, since go you must, or rather, since go you will. I will take floor as pony and ride with you as far as Ballybro. Callum Begg, see that our horses are ready, with a pony for yourself, to attend and carry Mr Waverly's baggage as far as, naming a small town, where he can have a horse and guide to Edinburgh. Put on a lowland dress, Callum, and see you keep your tongue close, if you would not have me cut it out. Mr Waverly rides Dermot. Then, turning to Edward. You will take leave of my sister? Surely, that is, if Miss MacIver will honour me so far. Kathleen, let my sister know Mr Waverly wishes to bid her farewell before he leaves us. But, Rose Bradwardine, her situation must be thought of. I wish she were here, and why should she not? There are but four redcoats at Tully Violin, and their muskets would be very useful to us. To these broken remarks, Edward made no answer. His ear indeed received them, but his soul was intent upon the expected entrance of Flora. The door opened. It was but Kathleen, with her lady's excuse, and wishes for Captain Waverly's health and happiness. End of Section 33, Recording by Felicity Campbell, Whanganui, New Zealand. Section 34 of Waverly, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Waverly, or to 60 years since, Volume 1, by Sir Walter Scott. Section 34, Chapter 29. Waverly's reception in the Lowlands after his Highland tour. It was noon when the two friends stood at the top of the pass of Ballybro. I must go now, Father, said Fergus McIver, who during the journey had in vain endeavoured to raise his friend's spirits. If my cross-grained sister has any share in your dejection, trust me, she thinks highly of you, though her present anxiety about the public cause prevents her listening to any other subject. Confide your interest to me. I will not betray it, providing you did not again assume that vile cockade. No fear of that, considering the manner in which it has been recalled. Adieu, Fergus. Do not permit your sister to forget me. And adieu, Waverly. You may soon hear of her with a prouder title. Get home, write letters, and make friends as many and as fast as you can. There will speedily be unexpected guests on the coast of Suffolk. Or my news from France has deceived me. Footnote, the sanguine Jacobites during the eventful years 1745 to 46 kept up the spirits of their party by the rumour of dissents from France on behalf of the Chevalier Saint George. Thus part of the friends, Fergus returning back to his castle, while Edward, followed by Callanbeg, the latter transformed from point to point into a low-country groom, preceded to the little town of Blank. Edward paced on under the painful and yet not altogether embittered feelings which separation and uncertainty produce in the mind of a youthful lover. I am not sure if the ladies understand the full value of the influence of absence, nor do I think it wise to teach at them, lest, like the Clelius and Mundane as of yore, they should resume the humour of sending their lovers into banishment. Distance and truth produces, in idea, the same effect as in real perspective. Objects are softened and rounded and rendered doubly graceful. The harsher and more ordinary points of character are mellowed down and those by which it is remembered are the more striking outlines that mark sublimity, grace or beauty. There are mists too in the mental as well as the natural horizon to conceal what is less pleasing in distant objects and there are happy lights to stream in full glory upon those points which can profit by brilliant illumination. Waverly forgot Flora McIver's prejudices in her magnanimity and almost pardoned her indifference towards his affection when he recollected the grand and decisive object which seemed to fill her whole soul. She, whose sense of duty so holy and grossed her in the cause of a benefactor, what would be her feelings in favour of the happy individual who should be so fortunate as to awaken them. Then came the doubtful question whether he might not be that happy man, a question which Fancy endeavoured to answer in the affirmative by conjuring up all she had said in his praise with the addition of a comment much more flattering than the text warranted. All that was commonplace, all that belonged to the everyday world was melted away and obliterated in those dreams of imagination which only remembered with advantage the points of grace and dignity that distinguished Flora from the generality of her sex, not the particulars which she held in common with them. Edward was, in short, in the fair way of creating a goddess out of a high spirit it accomplished in beautiful young woman and the time was wasted in castle building until at the descent of a steep hill he saw beneath him the marked town of Blanc Blanc. The Highlander politeness of Callum Big there are few nations, by the way, who can boast of so much natural politeness as the Highlanders. Footnote, the Highlander in former times had always a high idea of his own gentility and was anxious to impress the same upon those with whom he conversed. His language abounded in the phrases of courtesy and compliment and the habit of carrying arms and mixing with those who did so made it particularly desirable they should use cautious politeness in the intercourse with each other. The Highland civility of his attendant had not permitted him to disturb the reveries of our hero, but observing him riles himself at the site of the village Callum pressed closer to his side and hoped when they came to the public his honour would need to see nothing but Vicky on and for fair to people we're up to weeks deal better stem. Waverly assured the prudent page that he would be cautious and as he now distinguished not indeed at the ringing of bells but the tinkling of something like a hammer against the side of an old mossy green inverted porridge pot that hung in an open booth of the size and shape of a parrot's cage erected to grace the east end of a building resembling an old barn he asked Callum beg if it was Sunday Goodness here just but a ceasely Sundi-selding came between the parts of Baliburu on entering the town however and advancing towards the most apparent public house which presented itself the numbers of old women in tartan screens in red cloaks who streamed from the barn resembling building debating as they went the comparative merits of the blessed youth Jarbish Rintowel and that chosen vessel Mester Gyukharapal induced Callum to assure his temporary master that it was either Tammukkel Sundi-her-seld or a little Govrimund Sundi that they carded tough fast on alighting at the sign of the seven branched golden candlestick which for the further delectation of the guests was graced with a short Hebrew motto they were received by mine-host a tall then puritanical figure who seemed to debate with himself whether he ought to give shelter to those who travelled on such a day reflecting however in all probability that he possessed the power of mulching them for this regularity a penalty which they might escape by passing into Gregor Duncanson's at the sign of the Highlander and the Havoc Gill Mr Ebenezer Cruickshanks condescended to admit them into his dwelling to this sanctified person waverly addressed his request that he would procure him a guide with a saddle-horse to carry his portmanteau to Edinburgh I'd have an enemy you be coming from demanded mine-host of the candlestick I have told you where I wish to go I do not conceive any further information necessary either for the guide or his saddle-horse me turned he of the candlestick somewhat disconcerted at this rebuff it's the general fast Sarah and I cannot enter into any carnal transactions on security when the people should be humbled and the box-ladish should return while the Mr Goethe-Rappel said and moreover when as the precious Mr Jarabish Arentowell did well observe the land was mourning for covenants barren, broken and buried my good friend said waverly if you cannot let me have a horse and guide my servant shall seek them elsewhere oh well, you're a servant and but for a gong he not worried to hear himself waverly had but very little of a captain of horses spirit within him I mean of that sort of spirit which I have been obliged to when I happened in a male coach or diligence to meet some military man who has kindly taken upon him the disciplining of the waiters and the taxing of reckonings some of this useful talent our hero had however acquired during his military service provocation it began seriously to arise look here sir I came here for my own accommodation and not to answer impertinent questions either say you can or cannot get me what I want I shall pursue my course in either case Mr Ebonita Crookshanks left the room with some indistinct mutterings but whether negative or aqueous and Edward could not well distinguish the hostess a civil quiet laborious drudge came to take his orders for dinner but declined to make answer on the subject of the horse and guide for the sleek law it seems extended to the stables of the golden candlestick from a window which overlooked the dark and narrow court in which Kalambeg rubbed down the horses after their journey waverly heard the following dialogue betwixt the subtle footpage of Ichi Anboa and his landlord he'll be free the north long man began the letter and he may say that answered Kalam and he had written along with the deer it may well be so long that I could well take a drum good wave bring the girl stoop here some compliments passed fitting the occasion when my host of the golden candlestick having as he thought opened his guest's heart by the suspectable propitiation he assumed his scrutiny you'll know I'm Michael better whiskey than not I've been the boss I'm Neyfery I've been the boss you're a highland man way at all nah I am but just Aberdeen away and did your master came for a Aberdeen way ay that's when I left it myself answered the call and impenetrable Kalambeg and what kind of a gentle man he I believe he is in of King George's state officers or at least he's a for ganging on to the south and he has a hantel stiller and never grudges anything till a pure body or in the way of a lowing he wants a guide and a house for a hints to Edinburgh ay and you more than find it him far with and it should really be chargeable he cares now for the Aberdeen I will Duncan did you say your name was Duncan or a Donald no I'm on a jammy jammy stints and attention before this last undaunted parry altogether foiled Mr. Cooke shanks who though not quite satisfied either with the reserve of the master or the extreme readiness of the man was contented to lay a tax on the reckoning and horse hire that might compound for his ungratified curiosity the circumstance of it being the fast today was not forgotten in the charge which on the whole did not however amount to much more than double what in fairness it should have been Kalambeg soon after announced in person the ratification of this treaty adding that will not be very pleasant Kalam nor altogether safe for our host seems a person of great curiosity but a traveler must submit to these inconveniences meanwhile my good lad here is a trifle for you to drink Vic Yonvor's health the hawks eye of Kalam flashed delight at me the hawks eye of Kalam flashed delight upon a golden guinea with which these last words were accompanied he hastened not without a curse on the intricacies of a Saxon breeches pocket or Slechan as he called it to deposit the treasure in his fob and then as if he conceived the benevolence called for some requital on his part he gathered close up to Edward with an expression of countenance peculiarly knowing and spoken in undertone if his owner thought the old devil weak Kal was a bit dangerous she could easily preveyed for him and tell in tarawazel how and in what manner her own sale replied Kalam could read for him a wee bit for either tune and kitted his quarters with her skinny oracle skinny oracle what's that Kalam unbuttoned his coat raised his left arm and with an emphatic nod pointed to the hilt of a small dirk snugly deposited under it in the lining of his jacket Waverly thought he had misunderstood his meaning he gazed in his face and discovered in Kalam's very handsome though embrowned features just the degree of roguish malice with which a lad of the same age in England would have brought forward a plan for robbing an orchard could God Kalam would you take the man's life indeed answered the young desperado and I think he has had just a ling enough leesot when he's for betraying on his fork they'll come to Spencella at his public Edward saw nothing was to be gained by argument and therefore contented himself with enjoining Kalam to lay aside all practices against the person of Mr Eboniza Cruickshanks in which injunction the page seemed to acquiesce with an air of great indifference but he may please himself but he is a bit like the letter but he is a bit like the letter but he is a bit like the letter but he is a bit like the letter the letter from the chief contained floorage lines on the fate of Captain Rowe Morgan, whose enterprising character is so well drawn by Clarendon. He had originally engaged in the service of the Parliament, but had abdued their party upon the execution of Charles I, and upon hearing that the royal standard was set up by the Earl of Glencairn and General Middleton in the Highlands of Scotland, took leave of Charles II, who was then at Paris, passed into England, assembled a body of capilliers in the neighbourhood of London, and traversed the kingdom, which had been so long under domination of the usurper, by marches conducted with such skill, dexterity, and spirit that he safely united his handful of horsemen with the body of Highlanders then in arms. After several months of desultory warfare in which Wogan's skill and courage gained him the highest reputation, he had the misfortune to be wounded in a dangerous manner, and no surgical assistance being within reach, he terminated his short but glorious career. There were obvious reasons why the politic chieftain was desirous to place the example of this young hero under the eye of Waverly, with whose romantic disposition it coincided so peculiarly, but his letter turned chiefly upon some trifling commissions which Waverly had promised to execute for him in England, and it was only towards the conclusion that Edward found these words. I owe Flora a grudge for refusing us her company yesterday, and, as I am giving you the trouble of reading these lines, in order to keep in your memory your promise to procure me the fishing tackle and crossbow from London, I will enclose her verses on the grave of Wogan. This I know will tease her, for to tell you the truth, I think her more in love with the memory of that dead hero than she is likely to be with any living one, unless he shall tread a similar path, but English Squires of our day keep their oak trees to shelter their deer parks, or repair the losses of an evening at White's, and neither invoke them to read their brows nor shelter their graves. Let me hope for one brilliant exception in a dear friend, to whom I would most gladly give a dear a title. The verses were inscribed to an oak tree in the churchyard of, blank, blank, in the Highlands of Scotland, said to mark the grave of Captain Wogan, killed in 1649. Amblin of England's ancient faithful proudly may thy branches waive, where loyalty lies low in death, and valor fills a timeless grave, and thou brave tenant of the tomb, reply not of our climb, deny above thine honoured sod to bloom the florets of a milder sky. These owe their birth to Genial May. Beneath a fierce sun they pine before the winter storm decay, and can their worth be type of thine? No, for mid-storms of fate opposing still hire swelled thy dauntless heart, and while despair the scene was closing, commenced thy brief but brilliant part. T'was then thou sortest on Albans Hill, when England's sun the strife resigned, a rugged race resisting still and unsubdued, though unrefined. Thy deaths our heard, no kindred wail, no holy knell thy requiem rung, thy mourners were the plated gale, thy dirge the clamorous pebrock sung. Yet who, in fortune summer shined to waste life's longest term away, would change that glorious dawn of thine, though darkened ere its noontide day? Be thine the tree whose dauntless bowels brave summers drought and winters gloom, Rome bound with oak her patriot's brows, as Albans shadows Wogan's tomb. Whatever might be the real merit of Flora McIvor's poetry, the enthusiasm which it intimated was well calculated to make a corresponding impression upon her lover. The lines were read, read again, then deposited in Waverly's bosom, then again drawn out in red line by line, in a low and smothered voice, and with frequent pauses which prolonged the mental treat, as an epicure protracts by sipping slowly the enjoyment of a delicious beverage. The entrance of Mrs. Cruickshanks with her sub-lunary articles of dinner and wine hardly interrupted this pantomime of affectionate enthusiasm. At length the tall, ungainly figure and ungracious visage of Ebenezer presented themselves. The upper part of his form, notwithstanding the season required no such defence, was shrouded in a large greatcoat, belted over his underhabitlements, and crested with a huge cowl of the same stuff which, when drawn over the head and hat, completely overshadowed both, and, being buttoned beneath the chin, was called a trot cozy. His hand grasped a huge jockey whip garnished with brass mounting. His thin legs, tenanted, a pair of gambados, fastened at the sides with rusty clasps. This accouted, he stalked into the midst of the apartment, and announced his errant and brief raise, Yer hostas are ready. You go with me yourself, then, landlord, adieu, as far as palf, where he may be supplied with a guide to Imboro, as ye occasion shall require. Thus saying he placed under Waverly's eye the bell which he held in his hand, and at the same time self-invited, filled a glass of wine and drank devout need to a blessing on their journey. Waverly stared at the man's impedance, but as their connection was to be shortened, promised to be convenient, he made no observation upon it, and, having paid his reckoning, expressed his intention to depart immediately. He mounted Dermot accordingly, and salad forth from the golden candlestick, followed by the puritanical figure we have described after he had, at the expense of some time in difficulty, and by the assistance of a looping on-stand, or structure of masonry erected for the traveller's convenience in front of the house, elevated his person to the back of a long-backed, raw-boned, thin-gutted phantom of a broken-down blood-horse on which Waverly's portmante was deposited. Our hero, though not in a very gay humour, could hardly help laughing at the appearance of his new squire, and at imagining the astonishment which his person in Equipage would have excited at Waverly's honour. Edward's tendency to mirth did not escape my host of the candlestick, who, conscious of the cause, infused a double portion of souring into the pharisaical leaven of his countenance, and resolved internally that, in one way or other, the young Englisher should pay dearly for the contempt with which he seemed to regard him. Calum also stood at the gate and enjoyed with undissembled glee the ridiculous figure of Mr Cruickshanks. As Waverly passed him, he pulled off his hat respectfully, and, approaching his stirrup, Baitham, tackied the all-tweaked devil pleaded him near Contlip. Waverly once more thanked and Baitham fair well, and then rode briskly onward, not sorry to be out of hearing of the shouts of the children, as they beheld old Ebenezer rise and sink in his stirrups to avoid the concussions occasioned by a hard trot upon a half-paved street. The village of, blank, was soon several miles behind him. End of Section 34 Recording by Felicity Campbell, Whanganui, New Zealand Section 35 of Waverly, Volume 1 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Waverly, or to 60 years since, Volume 1 by Sir Walter Scott, Section 35 Chapter 30 Shows that the loss of a horse's shoe may be a serious inconvenience. The manner and air of Waverly, but above all the glittering contents of his purse, and the indifference with which he seemed to regard them, somewhat over-odd his companion, and deterred him from making any attempts to enter upon conversation. His own reflections were moreover agitated by various surmises, and by plans of self-interest with which these were intimately connected. The traveller's journeyed therefore in silence until it was interrupted by the annunciation on the part of the guide that his nag had lost a four-foot shoe, which doubtless his honor would consider it was his part to replace. This was what lawyers call a fishing question calculated to ascertain how far Waverly was disposed to submit to petty imposition. My part to replace your horse's shoe, you rascal, said Waverly, mistaking the purport of the intimation. Indubitably, answered Mr. Crookshanks, though there was no precise clause to that effect, it cannot be expected that I am to pay for the casualties Wilk may befall the poor nag while in your honor's service. Nevertheless, if your honor—oh, you mean I am to pay the farrier, but where shall we find one? Rejoiced at discerning, there would be no objection made on the part of his temporary master, Mr. Crookshanks assured him that Cairne Bracken, a village which they were about to enter, was happy in an excellent blacksmith. But as he was a professor, he would drive a nail for no man on the Sabbath or Kirkfast, unless it were in a case of absolute necessity, for which he always charged six pence each shoe. The most important part of this communication, in the opinion of the speaker, made a very slight impression on the hearer, who only internally wondered what college this veterinary professor belonged to, not aware that the word was used to denote any person who pretended to uncommon sanctity of faith and manner. As they entered the village of Cairne Bracken, they speedily distinguished the Smith's house. Being also a public, it was two stories high and proudly reared its crest, covered with gray slate, above the thatched hobbles by which it was surrounded. The adjoining Smithie betokened none of the sabbatical silence and repose which Ebenezer had augured from the sanctity of his friend. On the contrary, Hammer clashed and Annville rang, the bellows groaned, and the whole apparatus of Vulcan appeared to be in full activity. Nor was the labor of a rural and Pacific nature. The master Smith, benembed as his sign intimated, John Mucklerath, with two assistants toiled busily in arranging, repairing, and refurbishing old muskets, pistols, and swords, which lay scattered around his workshop in military confusion. The open shed containing the forge was crowded with persons who came and went as if receiving and communicating important news, and a single glance at the aspect of the people who traversed the street in haste, or stood assembled in groups with eyes elevated and hands uplifted, announced that some extraordinary intelligence was agitating the public mind of the municipality of Cairne Brecken. There is some news, said mine host of the candlestick, pushing his lantern-jawed visage and bare-boned nag, rudely forward into the crowd. There is some news, and if it please my creator, I will forthwith obtain spearings thereof. Waverly, with better regulated curiosity than his attendance, dismounted and gave his horse to a boy who stood idling near. It arose perhaps from the shyness of his character in early youth that he felt dislike at applying to a stranger, even for casual information, without previously glancing at his physiognomy and appearance, while he looked about in order to select the person to whom he would most willingly hold communication, the buzz around saved him in some degree the trouble of interrogatories. The names of Laquille, Clan Ronald, Glengarry, and other distinguished Highland chiefs, among whom Vich Yenvor was repeatedly mentioned, were as familiar in men's mouths as household words, and from the alarm generally expressed he easily conceived that their descent into the lowlands at the head of their armed tribes had either already taken place or was instantly apprehended. Air Waverly could ask particulars, a strong, large-boned, hard-featured woman about forty, dressed as if her clothes had been flung on with a pitchfork, her cheeks flushed with a scarlet red where they were not smutted with soot and lamp-black, jostled through the crowd, and brandishing high a child of two years old, which she danced in her arms without regard to its screams of terror, saying forth with all her might, Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling, Charlie is my darling, the young Chevalier. Do you hear what's come over ye now? continued the Virago. Ye whining, wig, Carls. Do you hear what's coming to cow your cracks? Little what ye was coming, little what ye was coming. Ah, the wild macaws are coming. The Vulcan of Cairn Brecken, who acknowledged his Venus in this exulting baccante, regarded her with a grim and ire-for-boating countenance, while some of the senators of the village hastened to interpose. Wished, good wife, is this a time or is this a day to be singing your ranting fool songs in? A time when the wine of wrath is poured out without mixture in the cup of indignation, and a day when the land should give testimony against popery, and prelacy, and quakerism, and independency, and supremacy, and irrastianism, and antinomianism, and all the errors of the church? And that's all your wiggory, re-echoed the Jacobite heroine. That's all your wiggory and your presbytery ye cut-lugged, granting, Carls. What, do ye think the lads with the kilts will care for your synods and your presbyteries and your buttock mail and your stool or repentance? Vengeance on the black face saw it. Money and honester woman's been set upon it, then streaks dune beside any wigg in the country, I myself. Here John Mucklerath, who dreaded her entering upon a detail of personal experience, interposed his matrimonial authority. Gay-hame and be-duh, that I should say, and put on the sowns for supper. And you, ye doiled daughter'd, replied his gentle helpmate, her wrath which had hitherto wandered abroad over the whole assembly, being at once and violently impelled into its natural channel. Ye stand there hammering dog-heads for fools that will never snap them at a highland man, instead of earning bread for your family and shooing this winsome young gentleman's horse that's just come fry the north. Eyes warrant him, name of your wining King George folk, but a gallant Gordon at the least of him. The eyes of the assembly were now turned upon Waverly, who took the opportunity to beg the smith to shoe his guide's horse with all speed, as he wished to proceed on his journey, for he had heard enough to make him sensible that there would be danger in delaying long in this place. The smith's eyes rested on him with a look of displeasure and suspicion, not lessened by the eagerness with which his wife enforced Waverly's mandate. Do ye hear what the wheel-favored young gentleman says, ye drunken ne'er do good? And what may your name be, sir, both mucklerath? It's of no consequence to you, my friend, provided I pay your labor. But it may be of consequence to the state, sir, replied an old farmer spelling strongly of whiskey and peat smoke, and I doubt we mawn delay your journey till you have seen the layered. You certainly, said Waverly hotly, will find it both difficult and dangerous to detain me, unless you can produce some proper authority. There was a pause and a whisper among the crowd, Secretary Murray, Lord Louis Gordon, maybe the Chevalier himself. Such were the surmises that passed hurriedly among them, and there was obviously an increased disposition to resist Waverly's departure. He attempted to argue mildly with them, but his voluntary ally, Mrs. Mucklerath, broke in upon and drowned his expostulations, taking his part with an abusive violence which was all set down to Edward's account by those on whom it was bestowed. Ye'll stop, honey gentleman, that's the prince's friend. For she, too, though with other feelings, had adopted the general opinion respecting Waverly. I dare ye to touch him, spreading abroad her long and muscular fingers, garnished with claws which a vulture might have envied. I'll set my ten commandments in the face of the first loon that lays a finger on him. Gay haim, good wife, quote the farmer afore said, it would better set you to be nursing the good man's barons than to be deiving us here. His bairns, retorted the Amazon, regarding her husband with a grin of ineffable contempt. His bairns, oh, giny were dead, good man, and a green turf on your head, good man. Then I would wear my widowhood upon a ranting, highland man. This canticle, which excited a suppressed titter among the younger part of the audience, totally overcame the patience of the taunted man of the Anvil. Del be in me, but I'll put this head-gad down her throat, cried he in an ecstasy of wrath, snatching a bar from the forge. And he might have executed his threat, had he not been withheld by a part of the mob, while the rest endeavored to force the termigant out of his presence. Waverly meditated a retreat in the confusion, but his horse was nowhere to be seen. At length he observed at some distance his faithful attendant, Ebenezer, who, as soon as he had perceived the turn matters were likely to take, had withdrawn both horses from the press, and, mounted on the one and holding the other, answered the loud and repeated calls of Waverly for his horse. Na, na, if ye are ne friend to Kirk and the king, and are detained as sick in a person, Yaman answered to honest men of the country for breach of contract, and I mount keep the neg and the wallies for damage and expense, in respect my horse and my cell will lose tomorrow's day's work, besides the afternoon preaching. Edward, out of patience, hemmed in and hustled by the rabble on every side, and every moment expecting personal violence, resolved to try measures of intimidation, and at length drew a pocket pistol, threatening, on the one hand, to shoot whomever dared to stop him, and on the other, menacing Ebenezer with a similar doom if he stirred a foot with the horses. The sapient partridge says that one man with a pistol is equal to a hundred unarmed, because, though he can shoot but one of the multitude, yet no one knows but that he himself may be that luckless individual. The levee and mass of Cairne Brecken would therefore probably have given way, nor would Ebenezer, whose natural paleness had waxed three shades more cadaverous, have ventured to dispute a mandate so enforced, had not the vulcan of the village, eager to discharge upon some more worthy object the fury which his helpmate had provoked, and not ill satisfied to find such an object in waverly, rushed at him with the red-hot bar of iron, with such determination as made the discharge of his pistol an act of self-defense. The unfortunate man fell, and while Edward, thrilled with a natural horror at the incident, neither had presence of mind to unsheath his sword, nor to draw his remaining pistol, the populace threw themselves upon him, disarmed him, and were about to use him with great violence, when the appearance of a venerable clergyman, the pastor of the parish, put a curb on their fury. This worthy man, none of the gauke-thraples or rentowels, maintained his character with the common people, although he preached the practical fruits of Christian faith, as well as its abstract tenets, and was respected by the higher orders, notwithstanding he declined soothing their speculative errors by converting the pulpit of the gospel into a school of heathen morality. Perhaps it is owing to this mixture of faith and practice in his doctrine that, although his memory has formed a sort of era in the annals of Cairn Brecken, so that the parishioners, to denote what befell sixty years since, still say it happened in good Mr. Morton's time, I have never been able to discover which he belonged to, the evangelical or the moderate party in the Kirk, nor do I hold the circumstance of much moment, since in my own remembrance the one was headed by an Erskine, the other by a Robertson. Footnote, the Reverend John Erskine D.D., an eminent Scottish divine and a most excellent man, headed the evangelical party in the Church of Scotland at the time when the celebrated Dr. Robertson, the historian, was the leader of the moderate party. These two distinguished persons were colleagues in the old Grave Friars Church, Edinburgh, and however much they differed in church politics, preserved the most perfect harmony as private friends and as clergyman serving the same cure. And footnote, Mr. Morton had been alarmed by the discharge of the pistol and the increasing hubbub around the smithy. His first attention, after he had directed the bystanders to detain Waverly, but to abstain from injuring him, was turned to the body of Mucklerath, over which his wife in a revulsion of feeling was weeping howling and tearing her elf-locks in a state little short of distraction. On raising up the smith, the first discovery was that he was alive and the next that he was likely to live as long as if he had never heard the report of a pistol in his life. He had made a narrow escape, however. The bullet had grazed his head and stunned him for a moment or two, which trans terror and confusion of spirit had prolonged somewhat longer. He now arose to demand vengeance on the person of Waverly and with difficulty acquiesced in the proposal of Mr. Morton that he should be carried before the lair as a justice of peace and placed at his disposal. The rest of the assistance unanimously agreed to the measure recommended. Even Mrs. Mucklerath, who had begun to recover from her hysterics, whimpered forth. She would not say nothing against what the minister proposed. He was eaten over good for his trade and she hoped to see him with a dainty decent bishop's gown on his back, a cumblier sight than your Geneva cloaks and bands I wist. All controversy being thus laid aside, Waverly, escorted by the whole inhabitants of the village who were not bedridden, was conducted to the house of Cairn Reckon, which was about a half a mile distant. End of section thirty-five. Major Melville of Cairn Reckon, an elderly gentleman, who had spent his youth in the military service, received Mr. Morton with great kindness and our hero with civility, which the equivocal circumstances wherein Edward was placed rendered constrained and distant. The nature of the smith's hurt was inquired into, and as the actual injury was likely to prove trifling, and the circumstances in which it was received, rendered the inflection on Edward's part a natural act of self-defense, the Major conceived he might dismiss that matter on Waverly's depositing in his hands a small sum for the benefit of the wounded person. I could wish, sir, continued the Major, that my duty terminated here, but it is necessary that we should have some further inquiry into the cause of your journey through the country at this unfortunate and distracted time. Mr. Ebenezer Crookshanks now stood forth and communicated to the magistrate all he knew or suspected from the reserve of Waverly and the evasions of Callum Begg. The horse upon which Edward rode, he said, he knew to belong to Vicki and Vore. Though he dared not tax Edward's former attendant with the fact, lest he should have his house and stables burnt over his head some night by that godless gang the McEvores. He concluded by exaggerating his own services to Kyrgyz state, as having been the means under God, as he modestly qualified the assertion of attaching this suspicious and formidable delinquent. He intimated hopes of future reward and of instant reimbursement for loss of time and even of character by traveling on the state business on the fast day. To this Major Melville answered with great composure that so far from claiming any merit in this affair Mr. Crookshanks ought to deprecate the imposition of a very heavy fine for neglecting to lodge, in terms of the recent proclamation, an account with the nearest magistrate of any stranger who came to his inn. That, as Mr. Crookshanks boasted so much of religion and loyalty, he should not impute this conduct to disaffection, but only suppose that his zeal for Kyrgyz state had been lulled asleep by the opportunity of charging a stranger with double horse hire. That, however, feeling himself incompetent to decide singly upon the conduct of a person of such importance, he should reserve it for consideration of the next quarter-sessions. Now our history for the present saith no more of him of the candlestick, who wended doleress and malcontent back to his own dwelling. Major Melville then commanded the villagers to return to their homes, accepting two, who officiated as constables, and whom he directed to wait below. The apartment was thus cleared of every person but Mr. Morton, whom the major invited to remain, a sort of factor, who acted as clerk, and Waverly himself. Therein sued a painful and embarrassed pause till Major Melville, looking upon Waverly with much compassion, and often consulting a paper or memorandum which he held in his hand, requested to know his name. Edward Waverly I thought so. Late of the dragoons, and nephew of Sir Everard Waverly, of Waverly Honour. The same. Young gentlemen, I am extremely sorry that this painful duty has fallen to my lot. Duty, Major Melville, renders apologies superfluous. True, Sir. Permit me therefore to ask you how your time has been disposed of since you obtained leave of absence from your regiment several weeks ago, until the present moment. My reply, said Waverly, to so general a question must be guided by the nature of the charge which renders it necessary. I request to know what that charge is, and upon what authority I am forcibly detained to reply to it. The charge, Mr. Waverly, I grieve to say, is of a very high nature, and affects your character both as a soldier and a subject. In the former capacity you are charged with spreading mutiny and rebellion among the men you commanded, and setting them the example of desertion. By prolonging your own absence from the regiment, contrary to the express orders of your commanding officer, the civil crime of which you stand accused is that of high treason and levying war against the king, the highest delinquency of which a subject can be guilty. And by what authority am I detained to reply to such heinous calamities? By one which you must not dispute nor I disobey. He handed to Waverly a warrant from the Supreme Criminal Court of Scotland in full form, for apprehending and securing the person of Edward Waverly Esquire, suspected of treasonable practices and other high crimes and misdemeanors. The astonishment which Waverly expressed at this communication was imputed by Major Melville to conscious guilt, while Mr. Morton was rather disposed to construe it into the surprise of innocence unjustly suspected. There was something true in both conjectures, for although Edward's mind acquitted him of the crime with which he was charged, yet a hasty review of his own conduct convinced him he might have great difficulty in establishing his innocence to the satisfaction of others. It is a very painful part of this painful business, said Major Melville, after a pause, that under so grave a charge I must necessarily request to see such papers as you have on your person. You shall, sir, without reserve, said Edward, throwing his pocket-book and memorandums upon the table. There is but one with which I could wish you would dispense. I am afraid, Mr. Waverly, I can indulge you with no reservation. You shall see it then, sir, and as it can be of no service I beg it may be returned. He took from his bosom the lines he had that morning received and presented them with the envelope. The Major perused them in silence and directed his clerk to make a copy of them. He then wrapped the copy in the envelope and placing it on the table before him returned the original to Waverly with an air of melancholy gravity. After indulging the prisoner, for such our hero must now be considered with what he thought a reasonable time for reflection, Major Melville resumed his examination, promising that, as Mr. Waverly seemed to object to general questions, his interrogatory should be as specific as his information permitted. He then proceeded in his investigation, dictating as he went on, the import of the questions and answers to the emmanuences by whom it was written down. Did Mr. Waverly know one Humphrey Houghton, a non-commissioned officer in Gardner's Dragoons? Certainly, he was Sergeant of my troop and son of a tenant of my uncle. Exactly, and had a considerable share of your confidence and an influence among his comrades? I had never occasioned to repose confidence in a person of his description, answered Waverly. I favored Sergeant Houghton as a clever, active young fellow, and I believe his fellow soldiers respected him accordingly. But you used through this man, answered Major Melville, to communicate with such of your troop as were recruited upon Waverly honour? Certainly the poor fellows finding themselves in a regiment chiefly composed of Scotch or Irish looked up to me in any of their little distresses, and naturally made their countrymen and sergeant their spokesmen on such occasions. Sergeant Houghton's influence, continued the Major, extended then particularly over those soldiers who followed you to the regiment from your uncle's estate? Surely, but what is that to the present purpose? To that I am just coming and I beseech your candid reply. Have you, since leaving the regiment, held any correspondence direct or indirect with this Sergeant Houghton? I? I hold correspondence with the man of his rank in situation? How, or for what purpose? That you are to explain. But did you not, for example, send to him for some books? You remind me of a trifling commission, said Waverly, which I gave Sergeant Houghton because my servant could not read. I do recollect I bade him by letter, select some books of which I send him a list, and send them to me at Tully v. Olin. And of what description were those books? They related almost entirely to elegant literature. They were designed for a lady's perusal. Were there not, Mr. Waverly, treasonable tracks and pamphlets among them? There were some political treatises into which I hardly looked. They had been sent to me by the officiousness of a kind friend, whose heart is more to be esteemed than his prudence or political sagacity. They seem to be dough compositions. That friend, continued the persevering inquire, was a Mr. Pimbroke, a non-juring clergyman, the author of two treasonable works, of which the manuscripts were found among your baggage? But of which I give you my honour as a gentleman, replied Waverly. I never read six pages. I am not your judge, Mr. Waverly. Your examination will be transmitted elsewhere. And now to proceed. Do you know a person that passes by the name of Wiley Will, or Will Ruthven? I never heard of such a name till this moment. Did you never, through such a person, or any other person, communicate with Sergeant Humphrey Haughton, instigating him to desert, with as many of his comrades as he could seduce to join him, and unite with the Highlanders and other rebels now in arms, under the command of the young pretender? I assure you I am not only entirely guiltless of the plot you have laid to my charge, but I detest it from the very bottom of my soul. Nor would I be guilty of such treachery to gain a throne, either for myself or any other man alive. Yet when I consider this envelope in the handwriting of one of those misguided gentlemen, who are now in arms against their country, and the verses which it enclosed, I cannot but find some analogy between the enterprise I have mentioned and the exploit of Wogan, which the writer seems to expect you should imitate. Waverly was struck with the coincidence, but denied that the wishes or expectations of the letter writer were to be regarded as proofs of a charge otherwise comirical. But if I am rightly informed your time was spent during your absence from the regiment between the house of this Highland chieftain, and that of Mr. Bradwardine of Bradwardine, also in arms for this unfortunate cause, I do not mean to disguise it, but I do deny most resolutely being privy to any of their designs against the government. You do not, however, I presume, intend to deny that you attended your host glinocoic to a rendezvous, where, under a pretense of a general hunting match, most of the accomplices of his treason were assembled to concert measures for taking arms. I acknowledge having been at such a meeting, said Waverly, but I neither heard nor saw anything which could give it the character you affixed to it. From then she proceeded, continued the magistrate, with glinocoic and a part of his clan to join the army of the young pretender, and returned after having paid your homage to him, to discipline and arm the remainder, and unite them to his bands on their way southward. I never went with glinocoic on such an errand, I never so much as heard that the person whom you mentioned was in the country. He then detailed the history of his misfortune at the hunting match, and added that on his return he found himself suddenly deprived of his commission, and did not deny that he then, for the first time, observed symptoms which indicated a disposition in the Highlanders to take arms. But added that having no inclination to join their cause, and no longer any reason for remaining in Scotland, he was now on his return to his native country, to which he had been summoned by those who had a right to direct his motions, as Major Melville would perceive from the letters on the table. Major Melville accordingly perused the letters of Richard Waverly, of Sir Everard, and of Aunt Rachel. But the inferences he drew from them were different from what Waverly expected. They held the language of discontent with government. Throughout no obscure hints of revenge, and that of poor Aunt Rachel, which plainly asserted the justice of the Stuart Cause, was held to contain the open avowal of what the others only ventured to insinuate. Permit me another question, Mr. Waverly, said Major Melville. Did you not receive repeated letters from your commanding officer, warning you and commanding you to return to your post, and acquaining you with the use made of your name to spread discontent among your soldiers? I never did, Major Melville. One letter indeed I received from him, containing a civil intimation of his wish, that I would employ my leave of absence otherwise than in constant residence at Bradwardine. As to which I own, I thought he was not called on to interfere. And finally I received, on the same day on which I observed myself superseded in the Gazette, a second letter from Colonel Gardner, commanding me to join the regiment. An order which, owing to my absence, already mentioned and accounted for, I received too late to be obeyed. If there were any intermediate letters, and certainly from the Colonel's high character I think it probable that there were, they have never reached me. I have omitted, Mr. Waverly, continued Major Melville, to inquire after a matter of less consequence, but which has nevertheless been publicly talked of to your disadvantage. It is said that a treasonable toast having been proposed in your hearing in presence, you, holding his Majesty's commission, suffered the task of resenting it to devolve upon another gentleman of the company. This, sir, cannot be charged against you in a court of justice. But if, as I am informed, the officers of your regiment requested an explanation of such a rumour, as a gentleman and soldier, I cannot but be surprised that you did not afford it to them. This was too much. Be said, and pressed on every hand by accusations in which gross falsehoods were blended with such circumstances of truth as could not fail to procure them credit. Alone, unfriended, and in a strange land, Waverly almost gave up his life in honor for lost, and, leaning his head upon his hand, resolutely refused to answer any further questions, since the fair and candid statement he had already made had only served to furnish arms against him. Without expressing either surprise or displeasure at the change in Waverly's manner, Major Melville proceeded composedly to put several other queries to him. What does it avail me to answer you, said Edward sullenly? You appear convinced of my guilt, and rest every reply I have made to support your own preconceived opinion. Enjoy your supposed triumph, then, and torment me no further. If I am capable of the cowardice and treachery your charge burdens me with, I am not worthy to be believed in any reply I can make to you. If I am not deserving of your suspicion and God in my own conscience bear evidence with me that it is so, then I do not see why I should by my candor lend my accuser's arms against my innocence. There is no reason I should answer a word more, and I am determined to abide by this resolution. And again he resumed his posture of sullen and determined silence. Allow me, said the magistrate, to remind you of one reason that may suggest the propriety of a candid and open confession. The inexperience of youth, Mr. Waverly, lays it open to the plans of the more designing and artful, and one of your friends at least—I mean MacIver of Glenocoic—ranks high in the latter class, as from your apparent ingenuousness, youth, and unequitance with the manners of the High Lens, I should be disposed to place you among the former. In such a case a false step or error like yours, which I shall be happy to consider as involuntary, may be atoned for, and I would willingly act as intercessor. But as you must necessarily be acquainted with the strength of the individuals in this country who have assumed arms, with their means and with their plans, I must expect you will merit this mediation on my part by a frank and candid avowal of all that has come to your knowledge upon these heads. In which case I think I can venture to promise that a very short personal restraint will be the only ill consequence that can arise from your accession to these unhappy intrigues. Waverly listened with great composure until the end of this exhortation. When, springing from his seat with an energy he had not yet displayed, he replied, Major Melville, since that is your name, I have hitherto answered your questions with candor or declined them with temper because their import concerned myself alone. But as you presume to esteem me mean enough to commence informer against others, who received me, whatever may be their public misconduct, as a guest and friend, I declare to you that I consider your questions as an insult infinitely more offensive than your columnius suspicions, and that since my hard fortune permits me no other motive resenting them than by verbal defiance you should sooner have my heart out of my bosom than a single syllable of information on subjects which I could only become acquainted with in the full confidence of unsuspecting hospitality. Mr. Morton and the Major looked at each other, and the former, who in the course of the examination had been repeatedly troubled with a sorry room, had recourse to his stuff-box and his handkerchief. Mr. Waverly, said the Major, my present situation prohibits me alike from giving or receiving offense, and I will not protract a discussion which approaches to either. I am afraid I must sign a warrant for detaining you in custody, but this house shall for the present be your prison. I fear I cannot persuade you to accept a share of our supper. Edward took his head. But I will order refreshments in your apartment. Our Hebrew bowed and withdrew, under guard of the officers of justice, to a small but handsome room where declining all offers of food or wine. He flung himself on the bed and stupefied by the harassing events and mental fatigue of this miserable day he sunk into a deep and heavy slumber. This was more than he himself could have expected. But it is mentioned, of the North American Indians, when at the stake of torture, that on the least intermission of agony they will sleep until the fire is applied to awaken them. Major Melville had detained Mr. Morton during his examination of Waverly, both because he thought he might derive assistance from his practical good sense and approve loyalty, and also because it was agreeable to have a witness of unpeached candour and veracity to proceedings which touched the honour and safety of a young Englishman of high rank and family, and the expectant air of a large fortune. Every step he knew would be rigorously canvassed, and it was his business to place the justice and integrity of his own conduct beyond the limits of question. When Waverly retired, the Laird and clergymen of Cairn Vreckon sat down in silence to their evening meal. While the servants were in attendance, neither chose to say anything on the circumstances which occupied their minds, and neither felt it easy to speak upon any other. The youth and apparent frankness of Waverly stood in strong contrast to the shades of suspicion which darkened around him, and he had a sort of naivete and openness of demeanour that seemed to belong to one unhack need in the ways of intrigue, and which pleaded highly in his favour. Each mused over the particulars of the examination, and each viewed it through the medium of his own feelings. Both were men of ready and acute talent, and both were equally competent to combine various parts of evidence and to deduce from them the necessary conclusions. But the wide difference of their habits and education often occasioned a great discrepancy in their respective deductions from admitted premises. Major Melville had been versed in camps and cities. He was vigilant by profession and cautious from experience, had met with much evil in the world, and therefore, though himself an upright magistrate and an honourable man, his opinions of others were always strict and sometimes unjustly severe. Mr. Morton, on the contrary, had passed from the literary pursuits of a college where he was beloved by his companions and respected by his teachers, to the ease and simplicity of his present charge, where his opportunities of witnessing evil were few, and never dwelt upon, but in order to encourage repentance and amendment, and where the love and respect of his parishioners repaid his affectionate zeal and their behalf by endeavouring to disguise from him what they knew would give him the most acute pain, namely their own occasional transgressions of the duties, which it was the business of his life to recommend. Thus it was a common saying in the neighbourhood, though both were popular characters, that the Laird knew only the ill in the parish and the minister only the good. A love of letters, though kept in subordination to his clerical studies and duties, also distinguished the pastor of Cairnvreckon and had tinged his mind in earlier days with a slight feeling of romance, which no after-incidence of real life had entirely dissipated, the early loss of an amiable young woman whom he had married for love, and who was quickly followed to the grave by an only child had also served, even after the lapse of many years, to soften a disposition naturally mild and contemplative. His feelings on the present occasion were therefore likely to differ from those of the severe disciplinarian, strict magistrate, and distrustful man of the world. When the servants had withdrawn, the silence of both parties continued until Major Melville, filling his glass and pushing the bottle to Mr. Morton, commenced. A distressing affair this, Mr. Morton, I fear this youngster has brought himself within the compass of a halter. God forbid, answered the clergymen. Mary and Amen, said the temporal magistrate, but I think even your merciful logic will hardly deny the conclusion. Surely Major answered the clergymen. I should hope it might be averted, for ought we have heard tonight. Indeed, replied Melville, but my good parson, you are one of those who would communicate to every criminal the benefit of clergy. Unquestionably I would. Mercy and longsuffering are the grounds of the doctrine I am called to teach. True, religiously speaking, but mercy to a criminal may be gross injustice to the community. I don't speak of this young fellow in particular, who I heartily wish may be able to clear himself, for I like both his modesty and his spirit. But I fear he has rushed upon his fate. And why? Hundreds of misguided gentlemen are now in arms against the government. Many doubtless upon principles which education and early prejudice have gilded with the names of patriotism and heroism. Justice, when she selects her victims from such a multitude, for surely all will not be destroyed, must regard the moral motive. He whom ambition or hope of personal advantage has led to disturb the peace of a well-ordered government, let him fall a victim to the laws, but surely youth, misled by the wild visions of chivalry and imaginary loyalty, may plead for pardon. If visionary, chivalry, and imaginary loyalty come within the predicament of high treason, replied the magistrate. I know no court in Christendom, my dear Mr. Morton, where they can sue out their habeas corpus. But I cannot see that this youth's guilt is at all established to my satisfaction, said the clergyman. Because your good nature blinds your good sense, replied Major Melville. Observe now. This young man descended of a family of hereditary Jacobites, his uncle, the leader of the Tory interest in the county of Blink-Blink. His father a disabliged and discontented courtier, his tutor and endureur, and the author of two treasonable volumes. This youth, I say, enters into Gardner's dragoons, bringing with him a body of young fellows from his uncle's estate, who have not stickled at avowing in their way the high church principles they learned at Waverly, honour in their disputes with their comrades. To these young men, Waverly is unusually attentive. They are supplied with money beyond a soldier's once and inconsistent with his discipline, and are under the management of a favourite sergeant, through whom they hold an unusually close communication with their captain, and effect to consider themselves as independent of the other officers and superior to their comrades. All this, my dear Major, is the natural consequence of their attachment to their young landlord, and of their finding themselves in a regiment levied chiefly in the north of Ireland, on the west of Scotland, and, of course, among comrades disposed to quarrel with them, both as Englishmen and as members of the Church of England. Well said, parson, replied the magistrate, I would some of your sonot hurt you, but let me go on. This young man obtains leave of absence, goes to Tulevalon, the principles of the Baron of Bradwardine are pretty well known, not to mention that this lad's uncle brought him off in the year fifteen. He engages there in a brawl, which he has said to have disgraced the commission he bore. Colonel Gardner writes to him first mildly, then more sharply. I think you will not doubt his having done so, since he says so. The mess invite him to explain the quarrel in which he has said to have been involved. He neither replies to his commander, nor his comrades. In the meanwhile his soldiers become muteness and disorderly. And at length, when the rumor of his unhappy rebellion becomes general, his favorite sergeant Houghton and another fellow are detached in correspondence with a French emissary, accredited, as he says, by Captain Waverly, who urges him, according to the men's confession, to desert with a troop and join their captain who was with Prince Charles. In the meanwhile, this trusty captain is, by his own admission, residing at Glenacoyic, with the most active, subtle, and desperate Jacobite in Scotland. He goes with him at least as far as their famous hunting rendezvous, and I fear a little farther. Meanwhile, two other summonses are sent him. One warning him of the disturbances in his troop, another preemptorily ordering him to repair to the regiment, which indeed common sense might have dictated, when he observed rebellion thickening all round him. He returns an absolute refusal and throws up his commission. He had been already deprived of it, said Mr. Morton. But he regrets, replied Malville, that the measure had anticipated his resignation, his baggage is seized at his quarters and at Tuleville on, and is found to contain a stock of pestilent Jacobitical pamphlets, enough to poison a whole country. Besides the unprinted lucubrations of his worthy friend and tutor Mr. Pembroke, he says he never read them, answered the minister. In an ordinary case I should believe him, replied the magistrate, for they are as stupid and pendentic in composition as mischievous in their tenants. But can you suppose anything but value for the principles they maintain would induce a young man of his age to lug such trash about with him? Then, when news arrive of the approach of the rebels, he sets out in a sort of disguise, refusing to tell his name, and if yawn old fanatic tell truth, attended by a very suspicious character and mounted on a horse known to have belonged to Glenocoic, and bearing on his person letters from his family expressing high rancor against the house of Brunswick, and a copy of verses in praise of one wogan who abjured the service of the parliament to join the Highland insurgents, when in arms to restore the house of Stuart, with a body of English calvary, the very counterpart of his own plot, and summed up with a go thou and do likewise from that loyal subject and most safe and peaceable character, Burgess MacGyver of Glenocoic, Vigayan Vor, and so forth. And lastly, continued Major Melville, warming in the detail of his arguments, where do we find the second edition of Cavalier-Wogan, why truly in the very track most proper for execution of his design, and pistoling the first of the king's subjects, who ventures to question his intentions? Mr. Morton prudently abstained from argument, which he perceived would only harden the magistrate in his opinion, and merely asked, how he intended to dispose of the prisoner? It is a question of some difficulty considering the state of the country, said Major Melville. Could you not detain him? Being such a gentleman-like young man, here in your own house, out of harm's way, till his storm blow over? My good friend, said Major Melville, neither your house nor mine will be long out of harm's way. Even were it legal to confine him here, I have just learned that the commander-in-chief who marched into the Highlands to seek out and disperse the insurgents has declined giving them battled at Cory Eric, and marched on northward with all the disposable force of government to Inverness, John O'Groats' house, or the devil for what I know leaving the road to the low country open and undefended to the Highland army. Good God, said the clergyman, is the men a coward, a traitor, or an idiot? None of the three, I believe, answered Melville. So John has the commonplace courage of a common soldier, is honest enough, does what he has commanded, and understands what is told him, but is as fit to act for himself in circumstances of importance, as I, my dear parson, to occupy your pulpit. This important public intelligence naturally diverted the discourse from Waverly for some time, at length however the subject was resumed. I believe, said Major Melville, that I must give this young man in charge to some of the detached parties of armed volunteers who were lately sent out to overall the disaffected districts. They are now recalled toward Sterling, and a small body comes this way tomorrow or the next day. Commanded by the Westland man, what's his name? You saw him, and said he was the very model of one of Cromwell's military saints. Guilfelen, the Cameronian, answered Mr. Martin. I wish the young gentleman may be safe with him. Strange things are done in the heat and hurry of minds in so agitating a crisis, and I fear Guilfelen is a sect which has suffered persecution without learning mercy. He is only to lodge Mr. Waverly in Sterling Castle, said the Major. I will give him strict injunctions to treat him well, and really cannot devise any better mode for securing him, and I fancy you would hardly advise me to encounter the responsibility of setting him at liberty. But you will have no objection to my seeing him tomorrow in private, said the minister. None, certainly, your loyalty and character on my warrant. But with what view do you make the request? Simply, replied Mr. Martin, to make the experiment whether he may not be brought to communicate to me some circumstances which may hereafter be useful to alleviate, if not exculpate, his conduct. The friends now parted and retired to rest, each filled with the most anxious reflections on the state of the country. Waverly, or to sixty years since, Volume 1, by Sir Walter Scott, Section 38 CHAPTER XXXIII A CONFIDENT Waverly awoke in the morning from troubled dreams and unrefreshing slumbers to a full consciousness of the horrors of his situation. How am I to terminate he knew not? He might be delivered up to military law which, in the midst of civil war, was not likely to be scrupulous in the choice of its victims or the quality of the evidence. Nor did he feel much more comfortable at the thought of a trial before a Scottish court of justice, where he knew the laws and forms differed in many respects from those of England, and had been taught to believe, however erroneously, that the liberty and rights of the subject were less carefully protected. A sentiment of bitterness rose to his mind against the government, which he considered as the cause of his embarrassment and peril, and he cursed internally his scrupulous rejection of MacIver's invitation to accompany him to the field. Why did I not, he said to himself, like other men of honour take the earliest opportunity to welcome to Britain the descendant of her ancient kings and lineal heir of her throne. Why did I not, unthread the rudies 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 of Waverly has been founded upon their loyal faith to the house of Stuart. From the interpretation which this scotch magistrate has put upon the letters of my uncle and father, it is plain that I ought to have understood them as marshalling me to the course of my ancestors, and it has been my gross dullness joined to the obscurity of expression which they adopted for the sake of security that has confounded my judgment. Had I yielded to the first generous impulse of indignation when I learned that my honour was practised upon, how different had been my present situation. I had then been free and in arms fighting, like my forefathers, for love, for loyalty and for fame, and now I am here, netted and in the toils of the disposal of a suspicious stern and cold hearted man, perhaps to be turned over to the solitude of a dungeon or the infamy of public execution. O Fergus, how true has your prophecy proved, and how speedy, how very speedy has been its accomplishment. While Edward was ruminating on these painful subjects of contemplation, and very naturally, though not quite so dastly, bestowing upon the reigning dynasty that blame which was due to chance, or in part at least, to his own unreflecting conduct, Mr. Morton availed himself of Major Melville's permission to pay him an early visit. My release first impulse was to intimate a desire that he might not be disturbed with questions or conversation, but he suppressed it upon observing the benevolent and reverent appearance of the clergymen who had rescued him from the immediate violence of the villagers. I believe, sir, said the unfortunate young man, that in any other circumstance I should have had as much gratitude to express to you as the safety of my life may be worth. But such is the present tumult with my mind, and such is my anticipation of what I am yet likely to endure, that I can hardly offer you thanks for your interposition. Mr. Morton replied. The far from making any claim upon his good opinion, his only wish and the sole purpose of his visit was to find out the means of deserving it. My excellent friend, Major Melville, he continued, has feelings and duties as a soldier and public functionary by which I am not fettered, nor can I always coincide in opinions which he forms, perhaps with too little allowance for imperfections of human nature. He paused and then proceeded. I do not intrude myself on your confidence, Mr. Waverly, for the purpose of learning any circumstances, the knowledge of which can be prejudicial either to yourself or to others. But I own my earnest wish, is that you would entrust me with any particulars which could lead to your exculpation. I can solemnly assure you that they will be deposited with a faithful and, to the extent of his limited powers, a zealous agent. You are, sir, I presume, a Presbyterian, clergyman, Mr. Morton bowed. Were I to be guided by the pre-possessions of education, I might distrust your friendly professions in my case. But I have observed that similar prejudices are nourished in this country against 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, for who holds church government and ceremonies as the exclusive gauge of Christian faith or moral virtue. But, continued Waverly, I cannot perceive why I should trouble you with the detailed particulars out of which, after revolving them as carefully as possible in my recollection, I find myself unable to explain much of what is charged against me. I know indeed that I am innocent, but I hardly see how I can hope to prove myself so. It is for that very reason, Mr. Waverly, said the clergyman, that I venture to solicit your confidence. My knowledge of individuals in this country is pretty general, and can, upon occasion, be extended. Your situation will, I fear, preclude your taking those active steps for recovering intelligence, or tracing imposter which I would willingly undertake in your behalf, and if you are not benefited from my exertions, at least they cannot be prejudicial to you. Waverly, after a few minutes, reflection was convinced that his reposing confidence in Mr. Morton so far as he himself was concerned. Could hurt neither Mr. Bradwardine nor Fergus McIver, both of whom had openly assumed darms against the government, and that it might possibly, if the professions of his new friend corresponded in sincerity with the earnestness of his expression, be of some service to himself. He therefore ran briefly over the events with which the reader is already acquainted, suppressing his attachment to Flora, and indeed, neither mentioning her, nor rose Bradwardine in the course of his narrative. Mr. Morton seemed particularly struck with the account of Waverly's visit to Donald B. Wien. I am glad, he said. You did not mention this circumstance to the major. It is capable of great misconstruction on the part of those who do not consider the power of curiosity, and the influence of romance as motives of youthful conduct. When I was a young man like you, Mr. Waverly, any such hair-brained expedition, I beg your pardon for the expression, would have had inexpressible charms for me. But there are men in the world who will not believe that danger and fatigue are often incurred without any very adequate cause, and therefore who are sometimes led to assign motives of action entirely foreign to the truth. This man, being lean, is renowned through the country as a sort of Robin Hood, and the stories which are told of his address and enterprise are the common tales of winter fireside. He certainly possesses talents beyond the rude sphere in which he moves, and being neither destitute of ambition nor encumbered with scruples, he will probably attempt by every means to distinguish himself during the period of these unhappy commotions. Mr. Morton then made a careful memorandum of the various particulars of Waverly's interview with Donald B. Wien, and the other circumstances which he had communicated. The interest which this good man seemed to take in his misfortunes above all, the full confidence he appeared to repose in his innocence, had the natural effect of softening Edward's heart, whom the coldness of Major Melville had taught to believe that the world was leaked to oppress him. He shook Mr. Morton warmly by the hand, and assuring him that his kindness and sympathy had relieved his mind of heavy load, told him that whatever might be his own fate, he belonged to a family who had both gratitude and the power of displaying it. The earnestness of his thanks called drops to the eyes of the worthy clergyman, who was doubly interested in the cause for which he had volunteered his services by observing the genuine and undissembled feelings of his young friend. Edward now inquired if Mr. Morton knew what was likely to be his destination. Sterling Castle replied his friend, and so far I am well pleased for your sake. For the governor is a man of honor and humanity, but I am more doubtful of your treatment upon the road. Major Melville is involuntarily obliged to entrust the custody of your person to another. I am glad of it, answered Waverly. I detest that cold-blooded, calculating scotch magistrate. I hope he and I shall never meet more. He had neither sympathy with my innocence nor with my wretchedness, and the petrifying accuracy with which he attended to every form of civility while he tortured me by his questions, his suspicions, and his inferences was as tormenting as the racks of the inquisition. Do not vindicate him, my dear sir, for that I cannot bear with patience. Tell me, rather, who is to have the charge of so important to the state prisoner as I am? I believe a person called Guilflin, one of the sects who are termed Cameronians. I never heard of them before. They claim, said the clergymen, to represent the more strict and severe Presbyterians who, in Tarle's seconds and James' second stays, refused to profit by the toleration or indulgence as it was called, which was extended to others of that religion. They held conventables in the open fields, and, being treated with great violence and cruelty by the Scottish government, more than once took arms during those raids. They take their name from their leader, Richard Cameron. I recollect, said Waverly, but did not the triumph of the Presbytery at the Revolution extinguish that sect? By no means, said Morton. That great event fell yet far short of what they proposed, which was nothing less than the complete establishment of the Presbyterian Church upon the grounds of old solemn league and covenant. Indeed, I believe they scarce knew what they wanted, but being a numerous body of men and not unacquainted with the use of arms, they kept themselves neither as a separate party in the state, and at the time of the Union had nearly formed a most unnatural league with their old enemies, the Jacobites, to oppose that important national measure. Since that time their numbers have gradually diminished, but a good many are still to be found in the western counties, and several, with a better temper than in 1707, have now taken arms for government. This person, whom they call gifted Guilfelin, has been long a leader among them, and now heads a small party which will pass here today or tomorrow on their march toward Stirling, under whose escort Major Melville proposes you shall travel. I would willingly speak to Guilfelin on your behalf, but having deeply imbibed all the prejudices of his sect and being of the same fiercest disposition he would pay little regard to the remonstrances of an Erastian divine as he would politely term me. And now, farewell, my young friend. For the present I must not weary out the Major's indulgence that I may obtain his permission to visit you again in the course of the day. Section 38. Recording by Stacey Cologne, Fort Worth, Texas. Section 39 of Waverly, Volume 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Waverly, or to 60 years since. Volume 1 by Sir Walter Scott. Section 39. Chapter 34. Things Mend a Little. About noon, Mr. Morton returned and brought an invitation from Major Melville that Mr. Waverly would honor him with his company to dinner and notwithstanding the unpleasant affair which detained him, ad Karen Freckin, for which he should heartily rejoice to see Mr. Waverly completely extricated. The truth was that Mr. Morton's favorable report and opinion had somewhat staggered the preconceptions of the old soldier concerning Edward's supposed accession to the mutiny in the regiment, and in the unfortunate state of the country's mere suspicion of disaffection or an inclination to join the insurgent Jacobites might infer criminality indeed, but certainly not dishonor. Besides, a person whom the Major trusted had reported to him, though as it proved it accurately, a contradiction to the agitating news of the preceding evening. According to this second edition of Intelligence, the Highlanders had withdrawn from the Lowland Frontier, with the purpose of following the army to their march to Inverness. The Major was at a loss indeed to reconcile his information with the well-known abilities of some of the gentlemen in the Highland Army, yet it was the course which was likely to be most agreeable to the others. He remembered the same policy had detained them in the North in the year 1715, and he anticipated a similar termination to the insurrection as upon that occasion. This news put him in such good humor that he readily acquiesced Mr. Morton's proposal to pay some hospitable attention to his unfortunate guest, and voluntarily added he hoped the whole affair would prove a youthful escapade, which might be easily atoned by a short confinement. The kind mediator had some trouble to prevail on his young friend to accept the invitation. He dared not urge to him the real motive, which was a good-natured wish to secure a favorable report of Waverly's case from Major Melville to Governor Blakeney. He remarked from the flashes of our hero's spirit that touching upon this topic would be sure to defeat his purpose. He therefore pleaded that the invitation argued the Major's disbelief of any part of the accusation, which was inconsistent with Waverly's conduct as a soldier and a man of honor, and that to decline his courtesy might be interpreted into a consciousness that it was unmerited. In short, he so far satisfied Edward that the manly and proper course was to meet the Major on easy terms. That suppressing his strong dislike again to encounter his cold and punctilious civility, Waverly agreed to be guided by his new friend. The meeting was at first stiff and formal enough. But Edward, having accepted the invitation and his mind being really soothed and relieved by the kindness of Morton, held himself bound to behave with ease, though he could not affect cordiality. The Major was somewhat of a bon vivant, and his wine was excellent. He told his old campaign stories, and displayed much knowledge of men and manners. Mr. Morton had an internal fund of placid and quiet gaiety, which seldom fell to enliven any small party in which he found himself pleasantly seated. Waverly, whose life was a dream, gave ready way to the predominating impulse and became the most lively of the party. He had at all times remarkable natural powers of conversation, though easily silenced by discouragement. On the present occasion he peaked himself upon leaving on the minds of his companions a favorable impression of one who, under such disastrous circumstances, could sustain his misfortunes with ease and gaiety. His spirits, though not unyielding, were abundantly elastic, and soon seconded his efforts. The trio were engaged in very lively discourse, apparently delighted with each other, and the kind host was pressing a third bottle of burgundy when the sound of a drum was heard at some distance. The Major, who in the glee of an old soldier had forgot the duties of a magistrate cursed with a muttered military oath, the circumstances which recalled him to as official functions. He rose and went towards the window, which commanded a very near view of the high road, and he was followed by his guests. The drum advanced, beating no measured martial tune but a kind of rub-a-dub-dub, like that with which the fire drum startles a slumbering artisans of a scotch burg. It is the object of this history to do justice to all men. I must therefore record injustice to the drummer, that he protested he could beat any known march or point of war known in the British army, and had accordingly commenced with Dumbarton's drums. When he was silenced by gifted Guilfelin, the commander of the party, who refused to permit his followers to move to this profane and even, as he said, persecutive tune, and commanded the drummer to beat the hundred-and-nineteenth song. As this was beyond the capacity of the drubber of sheepskin, he was feigned to have recourse to the inoffensive roadie-dough as a harmless substitute for the sacred music which his instrument or skill were unable to achieve. This may be held a trifling anecdote, but the drummer in question was no less than town drummer of Anderton. I remember his successor in office, a member of that enlightened body, the British Convention, be his memory therefore treated with due respect. End of section 39, recording by Stacey Cologne, Fort Worth, Texas.