'But perhaps I like Miss Bertram more for the accomplishments she
wants than for the knowledge she possesses. She knows nothing of
music whatever, and no more of dancing than is here common to the
meanest peasants, who, by the way, dance with great zeal and
spirit. So that I am instructor in my turn, and she takes with
great gratitude lessons from me upon the harpsichord; and I have
even taught her some of La Pique's steps, and you know he thought
me a promising scholar.

'In the evening papa often reads, and I assure you he is the best
reader of poetry you ever heard; not like that actor who made a
kind of jumble between reading and acting,--staring, and bending
his brow, and twisting his face, and gesticulating as if he were
on the stage and dressed out in all his costume. My father's
manner is quite different; it is the reading of a gentleman, who
produces effect by feeling, taste, and inflection of voice, not by
action or mummery. Lucy Bertram rides remarkably well, and I can
now accompany her on horseback, having become emboldened by
example. We walk also a good deal in spite of the cold. So, upon
the whole, I have not quite so much time for writing as I used to
have.

'Besides, my love, I must really use the apology of all stupid
correspondents, that I have nothing to say. My hopes, my fears, my
anxieties about Brown are of a less interesting cast since I know
that he is at liberty and in health. Besides, I must own I think
that by this time the gentleman might have given me some
intimation what he was doing. Our intercourse may be an imprudent
one, but it is not very complimentary to me that Mr. Vanbeest
Brown should be the first to discover that such is the case, and
to break off in consequence. I can promise him that we might not
differ much in opinion should that happen to be his, for I have
sometimes thought I have behaved extremely foolishly in that
matter. Yet I have so good an opinion of poor Brown, that I cannot
but think there is something extraordinary in his silence.

'To return to Lucy Bertram. No, my dearest Matilda, she can never,
never rival you in my regard, so that all your affectionate
jealousy on that account is without foundation. She is, to be
sure, a very pretty, a very sensible, a very affectionate girl,
and I think there are few persons to whose consolatory friendship
I could have recourse more freely in what are called the real
evils of life. But then these so seldom come in one's way, and one
wants a friend who will sympathise with distresses of sentiment as
well as with actual misfortune. Heaven knows, and you know, my
dearest Matilda, that these diseases of the heart require the balm
of sympathy and affection as much as the evils of a more obvious
and determinate character. Now Lucy Bertram has nothing of this
kindly sympathy, nothing at all, my dearest Matilda. Were I sick
of a fever, she would sit up night after night to nurse me with
the most unrepining patience; but with the fever of the heart,
which my Matilda has soothed so often, she has no more sympathy
than her old tutor. And yet what provokes me is, that the demure
monkey actually has a lover of her own, and that their mutual
affection (for mutual I take it to be) has a great deal of
complicated and romantic interest. She was once, you must know, a
great heiress, but was ruined by the prodigality of her father and
the villainy of a horrid man in whom he confided. And one of the
handsomest young gentlemen in the country is attached to her; but,
as he is heir to a great estate, she discourages his addresses on
account of the disproportion of their fortune.

'But with all this moderation, and self-denial, and modesty, and
so forth, Lucy is a sly girl. I am sure she loves young Hazlewood,
and I am sure he has some guess of that, and would probably bring
her to acknowledge it too if my father or she would allow him an
opportunity. But you must know the Colonel is always himself in
the way to pay Miss Bertram those attentions which afford the best
indirect opportunities for a young gentleman in Hazlewood's
situation. I would have my good papa take care that he does not
himself pay the usual penalty of meddling folks. I assure you, if
I were Hazlewood I should look on his compliments, his bowings,
his cloakings, his shawlings, and his handings with some little
suspicion; and truly I think Hazlewood does so too at some odd
times. Then imagine what a silly figure your poor Julia makes on
such occasions! Here is my father making the agreeable to my
friend; there is young Hazlewood watching every word of her lips,
and every motion of her eye; and I have not the poor satisfaction
of interesting a human being, not even the exotic monster of a
parson, for even he sits with his mouth open, and his huge round
goggling eyes fixed like those of a statue, admiring Mess
Baartram!

'All this makes me sometimes a little nervous, and sometimes a
little mischievous. I was so provoked at my father and the lovers
the other day for turning me completely out of their thoughts and
society, that I began an attack upon Hazlewood, from which it was
impossible for him, in common civility, to escape. He insensibly
became warm in his defence,--I assure you, Matilda, he is a very
clever as well as a very handsome young man, and I don't think I
ever remember having seen him to the same advantage,--when,
behold, in the midst of our lively conversation, a very soft sigh
from Miss Lucy reached my not ungratified ears. I was greatly too
generous to prosecute my victory any farther, even if I had not
been afraid of papa. Luckily for me, he had at that moment got
into a long description of the peculiar notions and manners of a
certain tribe of Indians who live far up the country, and was
illustrating them by making drawings on Miss Bertram's work-
patterns, three of which he utterly damaged by introducing among
the intricacies of the pattern his specimens of Oriental costume.
But I believe she thought as little of her own gown at the moment
as of the Indian turbands and cummerbands. However, it was quite
as well for me that he did not see all the merit of my little
manoeuvre, for he is as sharp-sighted as a hawk, and a sworn enemy
to the slightest shade of coquetry.

'Well, Matilda, Hazlewood heard this same halfaudible sigh, and
instantly repented his temporary attentions to such an unworthy
object as your Julia, and, with a very comical expression of
consciousness, drew near to Lucy's work-table. He made some
trifling observation, and her reply was one in which nothing but
an ear as acute as that of a lover, or a curious observer like
myself, could have distinguished anything more cold and dry than
usual. But it conveyed reproof to the self-accusing hero, and he
stood abashed accordingly. You will admit that I was called upon
in generosity to act as mediator. So I mingled in the
conversation, in the quiet tone of an unobserving and uninterested
third party, led them into their former habits of easy chat, and,
after having served awhile as the channel of communication through
which they chose to address each other, set them down to a pensive
game at chess, and very dutifully went to tease papa, who was
still busied with his drawings. The chess-players, you must
observe, were placed near the chimney, beside a little work-table,
which held the board and men, the Colonel at some distance, with
lights upon a library table; for it is a large old-fashioned room,
with several recesses, and hung with grim tapestry, representing
what it might have puzzled the artist himself to explain.

'"Is chess a very interesting game, papa?"

'"I am told so," without honouring me with much of his notice.

'"I should think so, from the attention Mr. Hazlewood and Lucy are
bestowing on it."

'He raised his head "hastily and held his pencil suspended for an
instant. Apparently he saw nothing that excited his suspicions,
for he was resuming the folds of a Mahratta's turban in
tranquillity when I interrupted him with--"How old is Miss
Bertram, sir?"

"'How should I know, Miss? About your own age, I suppose."

'"Older, I should think, sir. You are always telling me how much
more decorously she goes through all the honours of the tea-table.
Lord, papa, what if you should give her a right to preside once
and for ever!"

'"Julia, my dear," returned papa, "you are either a fool outright
or you are more disposed to make mischief than I have yet believed
you."

'"Oh, my dear sir! put your best construction upon it; I would not
be thought a fool for all the world."

'"Then why do you talk like one?" said my father.

'"Lord, sir, I am sure there is nothing so foolish in what I said
just now. Everybody knows you are a very handsome man" (a smile
was just visible), "that is, for your time of life" (the dawn was
overcast), "which is far from being advanced, and I am sure I
don't know why you should not please yourself, if you have a mind.
I am sensible I am but a thoughtless girl, and if a graver
companion could render you more happy--"

'There was a mixture of displeasure and grave affection in the
manner in which my father took my hand, that was a severe reproof
to me for trifling with his feelings. "Julia," he said, "I bear
with much of your petulance because I think I have in some degree
deserved it, by neglecting to superintend your education
sufficiently closely. Yet I would not have you give it the rein
upon a subject so delicate. If you do not respect the feelings of
your surviving parent towards the memory of her whom you have
lost, attend at least to the sacred claims of misfortune; and
observe, that the slightest hint of such a jest reaching Miss
Bertram's ears would at once induce her to renounce her present
asylum, and go forth, without a protector, into a world she has
already felt so unfriendly."

'What could I say to this, Matilda? I only cried heartily, begged
pardon, and promised to be a good girl in future. And so here am I
neutralised again, for I cannot, in honour or common good-nature,
tease poor Lucy by interfering with Hazlewood, although she has so
little confidence in me; and neither can I, after this grave
appeal, venture again upon such delicate ground with papa. So I
burn little rolls of paper, and sketch Turks' heads upon visiting
cards with the blackened end--I assure you I succeeded in making a
superb Hyder-Ally last night--and I jingle on my unfortunate
harpsichord, and begin at the end of a grave book and read it
backward. After all, I begin to be very much vexed about Brown's
silence. Had he been obliged to leave the country, I am sure he
would at least have written to me. Is it possible that my father
can have intercepted his letters? But no, that is contrary to all
his principles; I don't think he would open a letter addressed to
me to-night, to prevent my jumping out of window to-morrow. What
an expression I have suffered to escape my pen! I should be
ashamed of it, even to you, Matilda, and used in jest. But I need
not take much merit for acting as I ought to do. This same Mr.
Vanbeest Brown is by no means so very ardent a lover as to hurry
the object of his attachment into such inconsiderate steps. He
gives one full time to reflect, that must be admitted. However, I
will not blame him unheard, nor permit myself to doubt the manly
firmness of a character which I have so often extolled to you.
Were he capable of doubt, of fear, of the shadow of change, I
should have little to regret.

'And why, you will say, when I expect such steady and unalterable
constancy from a lover, why should I be anxious about what
Hazlewood does, or to whom he offers his attentions? I ask myself
the question a hundred times a day, and it only receives the very
silly answer that one does not like to be neglected, though one
would not encourage a serious infidelity.

'I write all these trifles because you say that they amuse you,
and yet I wonder how they should. I remember, in our stolen
voyages to the world of fiction, you always admired the grand and
the romantic,--tales of knights, dwarfs, giants, and distressed
damsels, soothsayers, visions, beckoning ghosts, and bloody hands;
whereas I was partial to the involved intrigues of private life,
or at farthest to so much only of the supernatural as is conferred
by the agency of an Eastern genie or a beneficent fairy. YOU would
have loved to shape your course of life over the broad ocean, with
its dead calms and howling tempests, its tornadoes, and its
billows mountain-high; whereas I should like to trim my little
pinnace to a brisk breeze in some inland lake or tranquil bay,
where there was just difficulty of navigation sufficient to give
interest and to require skill without any sensible degree of
danger. So that, upon the whole, Matilda, I think you should have
had my father, with his pride of arms and of ancestry, his
chivalrous point of honour, his high talents, and his abstruse and
mystic studies. You should have had Lucy Bertram too for your
friend, whose fathers, with names which alike defy memory and
orthography, ruled over this romantic country, and whose birth
took place, as I have been indistinctly informed, under
circumstances of deep and peculiar interest. You should have had,
too, our Scottish residence, surrounded by mountains, and our
lonely walks to haunted ruins. And I should have had, in exchange,
the lawns and shrubs, and green-houses and conservatories, of Pine
Park, with your good, quiet, indulgent aunt, her chapel in the
morning, her nap after dinner, her hand at whist in the evening,
not forgetting her fat coach-horses and fatter coachman. Take
notice, however, that Brown is not included in this proposed
barter of mine; his good-humour, lively conversation, and open
gallantry suit my plan of life as well as his athletic form,
handsome features, and high spirit would accord with a character
of chivalry. So, as we cannot change altogether out and out, I
think we must e'en abide as we are.'




CHAPTER XXX

     I renounce your defiance; if you parley so roughly I'll
     barricade my gates against you. Do you see yon bay window?
     Storm, I care not, serving the good Duke of Norfolk

          Merry Devil of Edmonton.


JULIA MANNERING to MATILDA MARCHMONT

'I rise from a sick-bed, my dearest Matilda, to communicate the
strange and frightful scenes which have just passed. Alas! how
little we ought to jest with futurity! I closed my letter to you
in high spirits, with some flippant remarks on your taste for the
romantic and extraordinary in fictitious narrative. How little I
expected to have had such events to record in the course of a few
days! And to witness scenes of terror, or to contemplate them in
description, is as different, my dearest Matilda, as to bend over
the brink of a precipice holding by the frail tenure of a half-
rooted shrub, or to admire the same precipice as represented in
the landscape of Salvator. But I will not anticipate my narrative.

'The first part of my story is frightful enough, though it had
nothing to interest my feelings. You must know that this country
is particularly favourable to the commerce of a set of desperate
men from the Isle of Man, which is nearly opposite. These
smugglers are numerous, resolute, and formidable, and have at
different times become the dread of the neighbourhood when any one
has interfered with their contraband trade. The local magistrates,
from timidity or worse motives, have become shy of acting against
them, and impunity has rendered them equally daring and desperate.
With all this my father, a stranger in the land, and invested with
no official authority, had, one would think, nothing to do. But it
must be owned that, as he himself expresses it, he was born when
Mars was lord of his ascendant, and that strife and bloodshed find
him out in circumstances and situations the most retired and
pacific.

'About eleven o'clock on last Tuesday morning, while Hazlewood and
my father were proposing to walk to a little lake about three
miles' distance, for the purpose of shooting wild ducks, and while
Lucy and I were busied with arranging our plan of work and study
for the day, we were alarmed by the sound of horses' feet
advancing very fast up the avenue. The ground was hardened by a
severe frost, which made the clatter of the hoofs sound yet louder
and sharper. In a moment two or three men, armed, mounted, and
each leading a spare horse loaded with packages, appeared on the
lawn, and, without keeping upon the road, which makes a small
sweep, pushed right across for the door of the house. Their
appearance was in the utmost degree hurried and disordered, and
they frequently looked back like men who apprehended a close and
deadly pursuit. My father and Hazlewood hurried to the front door
to demand who they were, and what was their business. They were
revenue officers, they stated, who had seized these horses, loaded
with contraband articles, at a place about three miles off. But
the smugglers had been reinforced, and were now pursuing them with
the avowed purpose of recovering the goods, and putting to death
the officers who had presumed to do their duty. The men said that,
their horses being loaded, and the pursuers gaining ground upon
them, they had fled to Woodbourne, conceiving that, as my father
had served the King, he would not refuse to protect the servants
of government when threatened to be murdered in the discharge of
their duty.

'My father, to whom, in his enthusiastic feelings of military
loyalty, even a dog would be of importance if he came in the
King's name, gave prompt orders for securing the goods in the
hall, arming the servants, and defending the house in case it
should be necessary. Hazlewood seconded him with great spirit, and
even the strange animal they call Sampson stalked out of his den,
and seized upon a fowling-piece which my father had laid aside to
take what they call a rifle-gun, with which they shoot tigers,
etc., in the East. The piece went off in the awkward hands of the
poor parson, and very nearly shot one of the excisemen. At this
unexpected and involuntary explosion of his weapon, the Dominie
(such is his nickname) exclaimed, "Prodigious!" which is his usual
ejaculation when astonished. But no power could force the man to
part with his discharged piece, so they were content to let him
retain it, with the precaution of trusting him with no ammunition.
This (excepting the alarm occasioned by the report) escaped my
notice at the time, you may easily believe; but, in talking over
the scene afterwards, Hazlewood made us very merry with the
Dominie's ignorant but zealous valour.

'When my father had got everything into proper order for defence,
and his people stationed at the windows with their firearms, he
wanted to order us out of danger--into the cellar, I believe--but
we could not be prevailed upon to stir. Though terrified to death,
I have so much of his own spirit that I would look upon the peril
which threatens us rather than hear it rage around me without
knowing its nature or its progress. Lucy, looking as pale as a
marble statue, and keeping her eyes fixed on Hazlewood, seemed not
even to hear the prayers with which he conjured her to leave the
front of the house. But in truth, unless the hall-door should be
forced, we were in little danger; the windows being almost blocked
up with cushions and pillows, and, what the Dominie most lamented,
with folio volumes, brought hastily from the library, leaving only
spaces through which the defenders might fire upon the assailants.

'My father had now made his dispositions, and we sat in breathless
expectation in the darkened apartment, the men remaining all
silent upon their posts, in anxious contemplation probably of the
approaching danger. My father, who was quite at home in such a
scene, walked from one to another and reiterated his orders that
no one should presume to fire until he gave the word. Hazlewood,
who seemed to catch courage from his eye, acted as his aid-de-
camp, and displayed the utmost alertness in bearing his directions
from one place to another, and seeing them properly carried into
execution. Our force, with the strangers included, might amount to
about twelve men.

'At length the silence of this awful period of expectation was
broken by a sound which at a distance was like the rushing of a
stream of water, but as it approached we distinguished the thick-
beating clang of a number of horses advancing very fast. I had
arranged a loophole for myself, from which I could see the
approach of the enemy. The noise increased and came nearer, and at
length thirty horsemen and more rushed at once upon the lawn. You
never saw such horrid wretches! Notwithstanding the severity of
the season, they were most of them stripped to their shirts and
trowsers, with silk handkerchiefs knotted about their heads, and
all well armed with carbines, pistols, and cutlasses. I, who am a
soldier's daughter, and accustomed to see war from my infancy, was
never so terrified in my life as by the savage appearance of these
ruffians, their horses reeking with the speed at which they had
ridden, and their furious exclamations of rage and disappointment
when they saw themselves baulked of their prey. They paused,
however, when they saw the preparations made to receive them, and
appeared to hold a moment's consultation among themselves. At
length one of the party, his face blackened with gunpowder by way
of disguise, came forward with a white handkerchief on the end of
his carbine, and asked to speak with Colonel Mannering. My father,
to my infinite terror, threw open a window near which he was
posted, and demanded what he wanted. "We want our goods, which we
have been robbed of by these sharks," said the fellow; "and our
lieutenant bids me say that, if they are delivered, we'll go off
for this bout without clearing scores with the rascals who took
them; but if not, we'll burn the house, and have the heart's blood
of every one in it,"--a threat which he repeated more than once,
graced by a fresh variety of imprecations, and the most horrid
denunciations that cruelty could suggest.

'"And which is your lieutenant?" said my father in reply.

'"That gentleman on the grey horse," said the miscreant, "with the
red handkerchief bound about his brow."

'"Then be pleased to tell that gentleman that, if he and the
scoundrels who are with him do not ride off the lawn this instant,
I will fire upon them without ceremony." So saying, my father shut
the window and broke short the conference.

'The fellow no sooner regained his troop than, with a loud hurra,
or rather a savage yell, they fired a volley against our garrison.
The glass of the windows was shattered in every direction, but the
precautions already noticed saved the party within from suffering.
Three such volleys were fired without a shot being returned from
within. My father then observed them getting hatchets and crows,
probably to assail the hall-door, and called aloud, "Let none fire
but Hazlewood and me; Hazlewood, mark the ambassador." He himself
aimed at the man on the grey horse, who fell on receiving his
shot. Hazlewood was equally successful. He shot the spokesman, who
had dismounted and was advancing with an axe in his hand. Their
fall discouraged the rest, who began to turn round their horses;
and a few shots fired at them soon sent them off, bearing along
with them their slain or wounded companions. We could not observe
that they suffered any farther loss. Shortly after their retreat a
party of soldiers made their appearance, to my infinite relief.
These men were quartered at a village some miles distant, and had
marched on the first rumour of the skirmish. A part of them
escorted the terrified revenue officers and their seizure to a
neighbouring seaport as a place of safety, and at my earnest
request two or three files remained with us for that and the
following day, for the security of the house from the vengeance of
these banditti.

'Such, dearest Matilda, was my first alarm. I must not forget to
add that the ruffians left, at a cottage on the roadside, the man
whose face was blackened with powder, apparently because he was
unable to bear transportation. He died in about half an hour
after. On examining the corpse, it proved to be that of a
profligate boor in the neighbourhood, a person notorious as a
poacher and smuggler. We received many messages of congratulation
from the neighbouring families, and it was generally allowed that
a few such instances of spirited resistance would greatly check
the presumption of these lawless men. My father distributed
rewards among his servants, and praised Hazlewood's courage and
coolness to the skies. Lucy and I came in for a share of his
applause, because we had stood fire with firmness, and had not
disturbed him with screams or expostulations. As for the Dominie,
my father took an opportunity of begging to exchange snuff-boxes
with him. The honest gentleman was much flattered with the
proposal, and extolled the beauty of his new snuff-box
excessively. "It looked," he said, "as well as if it were real
gold from Ophir." Indeed, it would be odd if it should not, being
formed in fact of that very metal; but, to do this honest creature
justice, I believe the knowledge of its real value would not
enhance his sense of my father's kindness, supposing it, as he
does, to be pinchbeck gilded. He has had a hard task replacing the
folios which were used in the barricade, smoothing out the creases
and dog's-ears, and repairing the other disasters they have
sustained during their service in the fortification. He brought us
some pieces of lead and bullets which these ponderous tomes had
intercepted during the action, and which he had extracted with
great care; and, were I in spirits, I could give you a comic
account of his astonishment at the apathy with which we heard of
the wounds and mutilation suffered by Thomas Aquinas or the
venerable Chrysostom. But I am not in spirits, and I have yet
another and a more interesting incident to communicate. I feel,
however, so much fatigued with my present exertion that I cannot
resume the pen till to-morrow. I will detain this letter
notwithstanding, that you may not feel any anxiety upon account of
your own

'JULIA MANNERING.'




CHAPTER XXXI

    Here's a good world!
     Knew you of this fair work?

          King John.


JULIA MANNERING to MATILDA MARCHMONT

'I must take up the thread of my story, my dearest Matilda, where
I broke off yesterday.

'For two or three days we talked of nothing but our siege and its
probable consequences, and dinned into my father's unwilling ears
a proposal to go to Edinburgh, or at least to Dumfries, where
there is remarkably good society, until the resentment of these
outlaws should blow over. He answered with great composure that he
had no mind to have his landlord's house and his own property at
Woodbourne destroyed; that, with our good leave, he had usually
been esteemed competent to taking measures for the safety or
protection of his family; that, if he remained quiet at home, he
conceived the welcome the villains had received was not of a
nature to invite a second visit, but should he show any signs of
alarm, it would be the sure way to incur the very risk which we
were afraid of. Heartened by his arguments, and by the extreme
indifference with which he treated the supposed danger, we began
to grow a little bolder, and to walk about as usual. Only the
gentlemen were sometimes invited to take their guns when they
attended us, and I observed that my father for several nights paid
particular attention to having the house properly secured, and
required his domestics to keep their arms in readiness in case of
necessity.

'But three days ago chanced an occurrence of a nature which
alarmed me more by far than the attack of the smugglers.

'I told you there was a small lake at some distance from
Woodbourne, where the gentlemen sometimes go to shoot wild-fowl. I
happened at breakfast to say I should like to see this place in
its present frozen state, occupied by skaters and curlers, as they
call those who play a particular sort of game upon the ice. There
is snow on the ground, but frozen so hard that I thought Lucy and
I might venture to that distance, as the footpath leading there
was well beaten by the repair of those who frequented it for
pastime. Hazlewood instantly offered to attend us, and we
stipulated that he should take his fowling-piece. He laughed a
good deal at the idea of going a-shooting in the snow; but, to
relieve our tremors, desired that a groom, who acts as gamekeeper
occasionally, should follow us with his gun. As for Colonel
Mannering, he does not like crowds or sights of any kind where
human figures make up the show, unless indeed it were a military
review, so he declined the party.

'We set out unusually early, on a fine, frosty, exhilarating
morning, and we felt our minds, as well as our nerves, braced by
the elasticity of the pure air. Our walk to the lake was
delightful, or at least the difficulties were only such as
diverted us,--a slippery descent, for instance, or a frozen ditch
to cross, which made Hazlewood's assistance absolutely necessary.
I don't think Lucy liked her walk the less for these occasional
embarrassments.

'The scene upon the lake was beautiful. One side of it is bordered
by a steep crag, from which hung a thousand enormous icicles all
glittering in the sun; on the other side was a little wood, now
exhibiting that fantastic appearance which the pine trees present
when their branches are loaded with snow. On the frozen bosom of
the lake itself were a multitude of moving figures, some flitting
along with the velocity of swallows, some sweeping in the most
graceful circles, and others deeply interested in a less active
pastime, crowding round the spot where the inhabitants of two
rival parishes contended for the prize at curling,--an honour of
no small importance, if we were to judge from the anxiety
expressed both by the players and bystanders. We walked round the
little lake, supported by Hazlewood, who lent us each an arm. He
spoke, poor fellow, with great kindness to old and young, and
seemed deservedly popular among the assembled crowd. At length we
thought of retiring.

'Why do I mention these trivial occurrences? Not, Heaven knows,
from the interest I can now attach to them; but because, like a
drowning man who catches at a brittle twig, I seize every apology
for delaying the subsequent and dreadful part of my narrative. But
it must be communicated: I must have the sympathy of at least one
friend under this heart-rending calamity.

'We were returning home by a footpath which led through a
plantation of firs. Lucy had quitted Hazlewood's arm; it is only
the plea of absolute necessity which reconciles her to accept his
assistance. I still leaned upon his other arm. Lucy followed us
close, and the servant was two or three paces behind us. Such was
our position, when at once, and as if he had started out of the
earth, Brown stood before us at a short turn of the road! He was
very plainly, I might say coarsely, dressed, and his whole
appearance had in it something wild and agitated. I screamed
between surprise and terror. Hazlewood mistook the nature of my
alarm, and, when Brown advanced towards me as if to speak,
commanded him haughtily to stand back, and not to alarm the lady.
Brown replied, with equal asperity, he had no occasion to take
lessons from him how to behave to that or any other lady. I rather
believe that Hazlewood, impressed with the idea that he belonged
to the band of smugglers, and had some bad purpose in view, heard
and understood him imperfectly. He snatched the gun from the
servant, who had come up on a line with us, and, pointing the
muzzle at Brown, commanded him to stand off at his peril. My
screams, for my terror prevented my finding articulate language,
only hastened the catastrophe. Brown, thus menaced, sprung upon
Hazlewood, grappled with him, and had nearly succeeded in
wrenching the fowling-piece from his grasp, when the gun went off
in the struggle, and the contents were lodged in Hazlewood's
shoulder, who instantly fell. I saw no more, for the whole scene
reeled before my eyes, and I fainted away; but, by Lucy's report,
the unhappy perpetrator of this action gazed a moment on the scene
before him, until her screams began to alarm the people upon the
lake, several of whom now came in sight. He then bounded over a
hedge which divided the footpath from the plantation, and has not
since been heard of. The servant made no attempt to stop or secure
him, and the report he made of the matter to those who came up to
us induced them rather to exercise their humanity in recalling me
to life, than show their courage by pursuing a desperado,
described by the groom as a man of tremendous personal strength,
and completely armed.

'Hazlewood was conveyed home, that is, to Woodbourne, in safety; I
trust his wound will prove in no respect dangerous, though he
suffers much. But to Brown the consequences must be most
disastrous. He is already the object of my father's resentment,
and he has now incurred danger from the law of the country, as
well as from the clamorous vengeance of the father of Hazlewood,
who threatens to move heaven and earth against the author of his
son's wound. How will he be able to shroud himself from the
vindictive activity of the pursuit? how to defend himself, if
taken, against the severity of laws which, I am told, may even
affect his life? and how can I find means to warn him of his
danger? Then poor Lucy's ill-concealed grief, occasioned by her
lover's wound, is another source of distress to me, and everything
round me appears to bear witness against that indiscretion which
has occasioned this calamity.

'For two days I was very ill indeed. The news that Hazlewood was
recovering, and that the person who had shot him was nowhere to be
traced, only that for certain he was one of the leaders of the
gang of smugglers, gave me some comfort. The suspicion and pursuit
being directed towards those people must naturally facilitate
Brown's escape, and I trust has ere this ensured it. But patrols
of horse and foot traverse the country in all directions, and I am
tortured by a thousand confused and unauthenticated rumours of
arrests and discoveries.

'Meanwhile my greatest source of comfort is the generous candour
of Hazlewood, who persists in declaring that, with whatever
intentions the person by whom he was wounded approached our party,
he is convinced the gun went off in the struggle by accident, and
that the injury he received was undesigned. The groom, on the
other hand, maintains that the piece was wrenched out of
Hazlewood's hands and deliberately pointed at his body, and Lucy
inclines to the same opinion; I do not suspect them of wilful
exaggeration, yet such is the fallacy of human testimony, for the
unhappy shot was most unquestionably discharged unintentionally.
Perhaps it would be the best way to confide the whole secret to
Hazlewood; but he is very young, and I feel the utmost repugnance
to communicate to him my folly. I once thought of disclosing the
mystery to Lucy, and began by asking what she recollected of the
person and features of the man whom we had so unfortunately met;
but she ran out into such a horrid description of a hedgeruffian,
that I was deprived of all courage and disposition to own my
attachment to one of such appearance as she attributed to him. I
must say Miss Bertram is strangely biassed by her prepossessions,
for there are few handsomer men than poor Brown. I had not seen
him for a long time, and even in his strange and sudden apparition
on this unhappy occasion, and under every disadvantage, his form
seems to me, on reflection, improved in grace and his features in
expressive dignity. Shall we ever meet again? Who can answer that
question? Write to me kindly, my dearest Matilda; but when did you
otherwise? Yet, again, write to me soon, and write to me kindly. I
am not in a situation to profit by advice or reproof, nor have I
my usual spirits to parry them by raillery. I feel the terrors of
a child who has in heedless sport put in motion some powerful
piece of machinery; and, while he beholds wheels revolving, chains
clashing, cylinders rolling around him, is equally astonished at
the tremendous powers which his weak agency has called into
action, and terrified for the consequences which he is compelled
to await, without the possibility of averting them.

'I must not omit to say that my father is very kind and
affectionate. The alarm which I have received forms a sufficient
apology for my nervous complaints. My hopes are, that Brown has
made his escape into the sister kingdom of England, or perhaps to
Ireland or the Isle of Man. In either case he may await the issue
of Hazlewood's wound with safety and with patience, for the
communication of these countries with Scotland, for the purpose of
justice, is not (thank Heaven) of an intimate nature. The
consequences of his being apprehended would be terrible at this
moment. I endeavour to strengthen my mind by arguing against the
possibility of such a calamity. Alas! how soon have sorrows and
fears, real as well as severe, followed the uniform and tranquil
state of existence at which so lately I was disposed to repine!
But I will not oppress you any longer with my complaints. Adieu,
my dearest Matilda! 'JULIA MANNERING.'




NOTES

NOTE 1, p. 25

The groaning malt mentioned in the text was the ale brewed for the
purpose of being drunk after the lady or goodwife's safe delivery.
The ken-no has a more ancient source, and perhaps the custom may
be derived from the secret rites of the Bona Dea. A large and rich
cheese was made by the women of the family, with great affectation
of secrecy, for the refreshment of the gossips who were to attend
at the 'canny' minute. This was the ken-no, so called because its
existence was secret (that is, presumed to be so) from all the
males of the family, but especially from the husband and master.
He was accordingly expected to conduct himself as if he knew of no
such preparation, to act as if desirous to press the female guests
to refreshments, and to seem surprised at their obstinate refusal.
But the instant his back was turned the ken-no was produced; and
after all had eaten their fill, with a proper accompaniment of the
groaning malt, the remainder was divided among the gossips, each
carrying a large portion home with the same affectation of great
secrecy.

NOTE 2, p. 198

It is fitting to explain to the reader the locality described in
chapter xxii. There is, or rather I should say there WAS, a little
inn called Mumps's Hall, that is, being interpreted, Beggar's
Hotel, near to Gilsland, which had not then attained its present
fame as a Spa. It was a hedge alehouse, where the Border farmers
of either country often stopped to refresh themselves and their
nags, in their way to and from the fairs and trysts in Cumberland,
and especially those who came from or went to Scotland, through a
barren and lonely district, without either road or pathway,
emphatically called the Waste of Bewcastle. At the period when the
adventures described in the novel are supposed to have taken
place, there were many instances of attacks by freebooters on
those who travelled through this wild district, and Mumps's Ha'
had a bad reputation for harbouring the banditti who committed
such depredations.

An old and sturdy yeoman belonging to the Scottish side, by
surname an Armstrong or Elliot, but well known by his soubriquet
of Fighting Charlie of Liddesdale, and still remembered for the
courage he displayed in the frequent frays which took place on the
Border fifty or sixty years since, had the following adventure in
the Waste, which suggested the idea of the scene in the text:--

Charlie had been at Stagshawbank Fair, had sold his sheep or
cattle, or whatever he had brought to market, and was on his
return to Liddesdale. There were then no country banks where cash
could be deposited and bills received instead, which greatly
encouraged robbery in that wild country, as the objects of plunder
were usually fraught with gold. The robbers had spies in the fair,
by means of whom they generally knew whose purse was best stocked,
and who took a lonely and desolate road homeward,--those, in
short, who were best worth robbing and likely to be most easily
robbed.

All this Charlie knew full well; but he had a pair of excellent
pistols and a dauntless heart. He stopped at Mumps's Ha',
notwithstanding the evil character of the place. His horse was
accommodated where it might have the necessary rest and feed of
corn; and Charlie himself, a dashing fellow, grew gracious with
the landlady, a buxom quean, who used all the influence in her
power to induce him to stop all night. The landlord was from home,
she said, and it was ill passing the Waste, as twilight must needs
descend on him before he gained the Scottish side, which was
reckoned the safest. But Fighting Charlie, though he suffered
himself to be detained later than was prudent, did not account
Mumps's Ha' a safe place to quarter in during the night. He tore
himself away, therefore, from Meg's good fare and kind words, and
mounted his nag, having first examined his pistols, and tried by
the ramrod whether the charge remained in them.

He proceeded a mile or two at a round trot, when, as the Waste
stretched black before him, apprehensions began to awaken in his
mind, partly arising out of Meg's unusual kindness, which he could
not help thinking had rather a suspicious appearance. He therefore
resolved to reload his pistols, lest the powder had become damp;
but what was his surprise, when he drew the charge, to find
neither powder nor ball, while each barrel had been carefully
filled with TOW, up to the space which the loading had occupied!
and, the priming of the weapons being left untouched, nothing but
actually drawing and examining the charge could have discovered
the inefficiency of his arms till the fatal minute arrived when
their services were required. Charlie bestowed a hearty Liddesdale
curse on his landlady, and reloaded his pistols with care and
accuracy, having now no doubt that he was to be waylaid and
assaulted. He was not far engaged in the Waste, which was then,
and is now, traversed only by such routes as are described in the
text, when two or three fellows, disguised and variously armed,
started from a moss-hag, while by a glance behind him (for,
marching, as the Spaniard says, with his beard on his shoulder, he
reconnoitred in every direction) Charlie instantly saw retreat was
impossible, as other two stout men appeared behind him at some
distance. The Borderer lost not a moment in taking his resolution,
and boldly trotted against his enemies in front, who called loudly
on him to stand and deliver; Charlie spurred on, and presented his
pistol. 'D--n your pistol,' said the foremost robber, whom Charlie
to his dying day protested he believed to have been the landlord
of Mumps's Ha', 'd--n your pistol! I care not a curse for it.' 'Ay,
lad,' said the deep voice of Fighting Charlie, 'but the TOW'S out
now.' He had no occasion to utter another word; the rogues,
surprised at finding a man of redoubted courage well armed,
instead of being defenceless, took to the moss in every direction,
and he passed on his way without farther molestation.

The author has heard this story told by persons who received it
from Fighting Charlie himself; he has also heard that Mumps's Ha'
was afterwards the scene of some other atrocious villainy, for
which the people of the house suffered. But these are all tales of
at least half a century old, and the Waste has been for many years
as safe as any place in the kingdom.

NOTE 3, p. 213

The author may here remark that the character of Dandie Dinmont
was drawn from no individual. A dozen, at least, of stout
Liddesdale yeomen with whom he has been acquainted, and whose
hospitality he has shared in his rambles through that wild
country, at a time when it was totally inaccessible save in the
manner described in the text, might lay claim to be the prototype
of the rough, but faithful, hospitable, and generous farmer. But
one circumstance occasioned the name to be fixed upon a most
respectable individual of this class, now no more. Mr. James
Davidson of Hindlee, a tenant of Lord Douglas, besides the points
of blunt honesty, personal strength, and hardihood designed to be
expressed in the character of Dandie Dinmont, had the humour of
naming a celebrated race of terriers which he possessed by the
generic names of Mustard and Pepper (according as their colour was
yellow or greyish-black), without any other individual distinction
except as according to the nomenclature in the text. Mr. Davidson
resided at Hindlee, a wild farm on the very edge of the Teviotdale
mountains, and bordering close on Liddesdale, where the rivers and
brooks divide as they take their course to the Eastern and Western
seas. His passion for the chase in all its forms, but especially
for fox-hunting, as followed in the fashion described in chapter
xxv, in conducting which he was skilful beyond most men in the
South Highlands, was the distinguishing point in his character.

When the tale on which these comments are written became rather
popular, the name of Dandie Dinmont was generally given to him,
which Mr. Davidson received with great good-humour, only saying,
while he distinguished the author by the name applied to him in
the country, where his own is so common--'that the Sheriff had not
written about him mair than about other folk, but only about his
dogs.' An English lady of high rank and fashion, being desirous to
possess a brace of the celebrated Mustard and Pepper terriers,
expressed her wishes in a letter which was literally addressed to
Dandie Dinmont, under which very general direction it reached Mr.
Davidson, who was justly proud of the application, and failed not
to comply with a request which did him and his favourite
attendants so much honour.

I trust I shall not be considered as offending the memory of a
kind and worthy man, if I mention a little trait of character
which occurred in Mr. Davidson's last illness. I use the words of
the excellent clergyman who attended him, who gave the account to
a reverend gentleman of the same persuasion:--

'I read to Mr. Davidson the very suitable and interesting truths
you addressed to him. He listened to them with great seriousness,
and has uniformly displayed a deep concern about his soul's
salvation. He died on the first Sabbath of the year (1820); an
apoplectic stroke deprived him in an instant of all sensation, but
happily his brother was at his bedside, for he had detained him
from the meeting-house that day to be near him, although he felt
himself not much worse than usual. So you have got the last little
Mustard that the hand of Dandie Dinmont bestowed.

'His ruling passion was strong even on the eve of death. Mr.
Baillie's fox-hounds had started a fox opposite to his window a
few weeks ago, and as soon as he heard the sound of the dogs his
eyes glistened; he insisted on getting out of bed, and with much
difficulty got to the window and there enjoyed the fun, as he
called it. When I came down to ask for him, he said, "he had seen
Reynard, but had not seen his death. If it had been the will of
Providence," he added, "I would have liked to have been after him;
but I am glad that I got to the window, and am thankful for what I
saw, for it has done me a great deal of good." Notwithstanding
these eccentricities (adds the sensible and liberal clergyman), I
sincerely hope and believe he has gone to a better world, and
better company and enjoyments.'

If some part of this little narrative may excite a smile, it is
one which is consistent with the most perfect respect for the
simple-minded invalid and his kind and judicious religious
instructor, who, we hope, will not be displeased with our giving,
we trust, a correct edition of an anecdote which has been pretty
generally circulated. The race of Pepper and Mustard are in the
highest estimation at this day, not only for vermin-killing, but
for intelligence and fidelity. Those who, like the author, possess
a brace of them, consider them as very desirable companions.

NOTE 4, p. 232

The cleek here intimated is the iron hook, or hooks, depending
from the chimney of a Scottish cottage, on which the pot is
suspended when boiling. The same appendage is often called the
crook. The salmon is usually dried by hanging it up, after being
split and rubbed with salt, in the smoke of the turf fire above
the cleeks, where it is said to 'reist,' that preparation being so
termed. The salmon thus preserved is eaten as a delicacy, under
the name of kipper, a luxury to which Dr. Redgill has given his
sanction as an ingredient of the Scottish breakfast.--See the
excellent novel entitled MARRIAGE.

NOTE 5, p. 234

The distinction of individuals by nicknames when they possess no
property is still common on the Border, and indeed necessary, from
the number of persons having the same name. In the small village
of Lustruther, in Roxburghshire, there dwelt, in the memory of
man, four inhabitants called Andrew, or Dandie, Oliver. They were
distinguished as Dandie Eassil-gate, Dandie Wassilgate, Dandie
Thumbie, and Dandie Dumbie. The two first had their names from
living eastward and westward in the street of the village; the
third from something peculiar in the conformation of his thumb;
the fourth from his taciturn habits.

It is told as a well-known jest, that a beggar woman, repulsed
from door to door as she solicited quarters through a village of
Annandale, asked, in her despair, if there were no Christians in
the place. To which the hearers, concluding that she inquired for
some persons so surnamed, answered, 'Na, na, there are nae
Christians here; we are a' Johnstones and Jardines.'