Brown, who in his military profession had seen a great many hard blows
pass, could not help remarking, 'he had never known such severe strokes
received with so much apparent indifference.'

'Hout tout, man! I would never be making a humdudgeon about a scart on
the pow; but we'll be in Scotland in five minutes now, and ye maun gang
up to Charlie's Hope wi' me, that's a clear case.'

Brown readily accepted the offered hospitality. Night was now falling
when they came in sight of a pretty river winding its way through a
pastoral country. The hills were greener and more abrupt than those which
Brown had lately passed, sinking their grassy sides at once upon the
river. They had no pretensions to magnificence of height, or to romantic
shapes, nor did their smooth swelling slopes exhibit either rocks or
woods. Yet the view was wild, solitary, and pleasingly rural. No
inclosures, no roads, almost no tillage; it seemed a land which a
patriarch would have chosen to feed his flocks and herds. The remains of
here and there a dismantled and ruined tower showed that it had once
harboured beings of a very different description from its present
inhabitants; those freebooters, namely, to whose exploits the wars
between England and Scotland bear witness.

Descending by a path towards a well-known ford, Dumple crossed the small
river, and then, quickening his pace, trotted about a mile briskly up its
banks, and approached two or three low thatched houses, placed with their
angles to each other, with a great contempt of regularity. This was the
farm-steading of Charlie's Hope, or, in the language of the country, 'the
town.' A most furious barking was set up at their approach by the whole
three generations of Mustard and Pepper, and a number of allies, names
unknown. The farmer [Footnote: See Note 3.] made his well-known voice
lustily heard to restore order; the door opened, and a half-dressed
ewe-milker, who had done that good office, shut it in their faces, in
order that she might run 'ben the house' to cry 'Mistress, mistress, it's
the master, and another man wi' him.' Dumple, turned loose, walked to his
own stable-door, and there pawed and whinnied for admission, in strains
which were answered by his acquaintances from the interior. Amid this
bustle Brown was fain to secure Wasp from the other dogs, who, with
ardour corresponding more to their own names than to the hospitable
temper of their owner, were much disposed to use the intruder roughly.

In about a minute a stout labourer was patting Dumple, and introducing
him into the stable, while Mrs. Dinmont, a well-favoured buxom dame,
welcomed her husband with unfeigned rapture. 'Eh, sirs! gudeman, ye hae
been a weary while away!'






CHAPTER  XXIV
     Liddell till now, except in Doric lays,
     Tuned to her murmurs by her love-sick swains,
     Unknown in song, though not a purer stream
     Rolls towards the western main

          Art of Preserving Health.


The present store-farmers of the south of Scotland are a much more
refined race than their fathers, and the manners I am now to describe
have either altogether disappeared or are greatly modified. Without
losing the rural simplicity of manners, they now cultivate arts unknown
to the former generation, not only in the progressive improvement of
their possessions but in all the comforts of life. Their houses are more
commodious, their habits of life regulated so as better to keep pace with
those of the civilised world, and the best of luxuries, the luxury of
knowledge, has gained much ground among their hills during the last
thirty years. Deep drinking, formerly their greatest failing, is now fast
losing ground; and, while the frankness of their extensive hospitality
continues the same, it is, generally speaking, refined in its character
and restrained in its excesses.

'Deil's in the wife,' said Dandie Dinmont, shaking off his spouse's
embrace, but gently and with a look of great affection; 'deil's in ye,
Ailie; d'ye no see the stranger gentleman?'

Ailie turned to make her apology--'Troth, I was sae weel pleased to see
the gudeman, that--but, gude gracious! what's the matter wi' ye baith?'
for they were now in her little parlour, and the candle showed the
streaks of blood which Dinmont's wounded head had plentifully imparted to
the clothes of his companion as well as to his own. 'Ye've been fighting
again, Dandie, wi' some o' the Bewcastle horse-coupers! Wow, man, a
married man, wi' a bonny family like yours, should ken better what a
father's life's worth in the warld'; the tears stood in the good woman's
eyes as she spoke.

'Whisht! whisht! gudewife,' said her husband, with a smack that had much
more affection than ceremony in it; 'never mind, never mind; there's a
gentleman that will tell you that, just when I had ga'en up to Lourie
Lowther's, and had bidden the drinking of twa cheerers, and gotten just
in again upon the moss, and was whigging cannily awa hame, twa
landloupers jumpit out of a peat-hag on me or I was thinking, and got me
down, and knevelled me sair aneuch, or I could gar my whip walk about
their lugs; and troth, gudewife, if this honest gentleman hadna come up,
I would have gotten mair licks than I like, and lost mair siller than I
could weel spare; so ye maun be thankful to him for it, under God.' With
that he drew from his side-pocket a large greasy leather pocket-book, and
bade the gudewife lock it up in her kist.

'God bless the gentleman, and e'en God bless him wi' a' my heart; but
what can we do for him, but to gie him the meat and quarters we wadna
refuse to the poorest body on earth--unless (her eye directed to the
pocketbook, but with a feeling of natural propriety which made the
inference the most delicate possible), unless there was ony other way--'
Brown saw, and estimated at its due rate, the mixture of simplicity and
grateful generosity which took the downright way of expressing itself,
yet qualified with so much delicacy; he was aware his own appearance,
plain at best, and now torn and spattered with blood, made him an object
of pity at least, and perhaps of charity. He hastened to say his name was
Brown, a captain in the----regiment of cavalry, travelling for pleasure,
and on foot, both from motives of independence and economy; and he begged
his kind landlady would look at her husband's wounds, the state of which
he had refused to permit him to examine. Mrs. Dinmont was used to her
husband's broken heads more than to the presence of a captain of
dragoons. She therefore glanced at a table-cloth not quite clean, and
conned over her proposed supper a minute or two, before, patting her
husband on the shoulder, she bade him sit down for 'a hard-headed loon,
that was aye bringing himsell and other folk into collie-shangies.'

When Dandie Dinmont, after executing two or three caprioles, and cutting
the Highland fling, by way of ridicule of his wife's anxiety, at last
deigned to sit down and commit his round, black, shaggy bullet of a head
to her inspection, Brown thought he had seen the regimental surgeon look
grave upon a more trifling case. The gudewife, however, showed some
knowledge of chirurgery; she cut away with her scissors the gory locks
whose stiffened and coagulated clusters interfered with her operations,
and clapped on the wound some lint besmeared with a vulnerary salve,
esteemed sovereign by the whole dale (which afforded upon fair nights
considerable experience of such cases); she then fixed her plaster with a
bandage, and, spite of her patient's resistance, pulled over all a
night-cap, to keep everything in its right place. Some contusions on the
brow and shoulders she fomented with brandy, which the patient did not
permit till the medicine had paid a heavy toll to his mouth. Mrs. Dinmont
then simply, but kindly, offered her assistance to Brown.

He assured her he had no occasion for anything but the accommodation of a
basin and towel.

'And that's what I should have thought of sooner,' she said; 'and I did
think o't, but I durst na open the door, for there's a' the bairns, poor
things, sae keen to see their father.'

This explained a great drumming and whining at the door of the little
parlour, which had somewhat surprised Brown, though his kind landlady had
only noticed it by fastening the bolt as soon as she heard it begin. But
on her opening the door to seek the basin and towel (for she never
thought of showing the guest to a separate room), a whole tide of
white-headed urchins streamed in, some from the stable, where they had
been seeing Dumple, and giving him a welcome home with part of their
four-hours scones; others from the kitchen, where they had been listening
to old Elspeth's tales and ballads; and the youngest, half-naked, out of
bed, all roaring to see daddy, and to inquire what he had brought home
for them from the various fairs he had visited in his peregrinations. Our
knight of the broken head first kissed and hugged them all round, then
distributed whistles, penny-trumpets, and gingerbread, and, lastly, when
the tumult of their joy and welcome got beyond bearing, exclaimed to his
guest--'This is a' the gude-wife's fault, Captain; she will gie the
bairns a' their ain way.'

'Me! Lord help me,' said Ailie, who at that instant entered with the
basin and ewer, 'how can I help it? I have naething else to gie them,
poor things!'

Dinmont then exerted himself, and, between coaxing, threats, and shoving,
cleared the room of all the intruders excepting a boy and girl, the two
eldest of the family, who could, as he observed, behave themselves
'distinctly.' For the same reason, but with less ceremony, all the dogs
were kicked out excepting the venerable patriarchs, old Pepper and
Mustard, whom frequent castigation and the advance of years had inspired
with such a share of passive hospitality that, after mutual explanation
and remonstrance in the shape of some growling, they admitted Wasp, who
had hitherto judged it safe to keep beneath his master's chair, to a
share of a dried-wedder's skin, which, with the wool uppermost and
unshorn, served all the purposes of a Bristol hearth-rug.

The active bustle of the mistress (so she was called in the kitchen, and
the gudewife in the parlour) had already signed the fate of a couple of
fowls, which, for want of time to dress them otherwise, soon appeared
reeking from the gridiron, or brander, as Mrs. Dinmont denominated it. A
huge piece of cold beef-ham, eggs, butter, cakes, and barley-meal
bannocks in plenty made up the entertainment, which was to be diluted
with home-brewed ale of excellent quality and a case-bottle of brandy.
Few soldiers would find fault with such cheer after a day's hard exercise
and a skirmish to boot; accordingly Brown did great honour to the
eatables. While the gudewife partly aided, partly instructed, a great
stout servant girl, with cheeks as red as her top-knot, to remove the
supper matters and supply sugar and hot water (which, in the damsel's
anxiety to gaze upon an actual live captain, she was in some danger of
forgetting), Brown took an opportunity to ask his host whether he did not
repent of having neglected the gipsy's hint.

'Wha kens?' answered he; 'they're queer deevils; maybe I might just have
'scaped ae gang to meet the other. And yet I 'll no say that neither; for
if that randy wife was coming to Charlie's Hope, she should have a pint
bottle o' brandy and a pound o' tobacco to wear her through the winter.
They're queer deevils; as my auld father used to say, they're warst where
they're warst guided. After a', there's baith gude and ill about the
gipsies.'

This, and some other desultory conversation, served as a 'shoeing-horn'
to draw on another cup of ale and another 'cheerer,' as Dinmont termed it
in his country phrase, of brandy and water. Brown then resolutely
declined all further conviviality for that evening, pleading his own
weariness and the effects of the skirmish, being well aware that it would
have availed nothing to have remonstrated with his host on the danger
that excess might have occasioned to his own raw wound and bloody
coxcomb. A very small bed-room, but a very clean bed, received the
traveller, and the sheets made good the courteous vaunt of the hostess,
'that they would be as pleasant as he could find ony gate, for they were
washed wi' the fairy-well water, and bleached on the bonny white gowans,
and bittled by Nelly and herself, and what could woman, if she was a
queen, do mair for them?'

They indeed rivalled snow in whiteness, and had, besides, a pleasant
fragrance from the manner in which they had been bleached. Little Wasp,
after licking his master's hand to ask leave, couched himself on the
coverlet at his feet; and the traveller's senses were soon lost in
grateful oblivion.






CHAPTER  XXV
     Give ye, Britons, then,
     Your sportive fury, pitiless to pour
     Loose on the nightly robber of the fold.
     Him from his craggy winding haunts unearth'd,
     Let all the thunder of the chase pursue.

           THOMSON'S Seasons.


Brown rose early in the morning and walked out to look at the
establishment of his new friend. All was rough and neglected in the
neighbourhood of the house;--a paltry garden, no pains taken to make the
vicinity dry or comfortable, and a total absence of all those little
neatnesses which give the eye so much pleasure in looking at an English
farm-house. There were, notwithstanding, evident signs that this arose
only from want of taste or ignorance, not from poverty or the negligence
which attends it. On the contrary, a noble cow-house, well filled with
good milk-cows, a feeding-house, with ten bullocks of the most approved
breed, a stable, with two good teams of horses, the appearance of
domestics active, industrious, and apparently contented with their lot;
in a word, an air of liberal though sluttish plenty indicated the wealthy
fanner. The situation of the house above the river formed a gentle
declivity, which relieved the inhabitants of the nuisances that might
otherwise have stagnated around it. At a little distance was the whole
band of children playing and building houses with peats around a huge
doddered oak-tree, which was called Charlie's Bush, from some tradition
respecting an old freebooter who had once inhabited the spot. Between the
farm-house and the hill-pasture was a deep morass, termed in that country
a slack; it had once been the defence of a fortalice, of which no
vestiges now remained, but which was said to have been inhabited by the
same doughty hero we have now alluded to. Brown endeavoured to make some
acquaintance with the children, but 'the rogues fled from him like
quicksilver,' though the two eldest stood peeping when they had got to
some distance. The traveller then turned his course towards the hill,
crossing the foresaid swamp by a range of stepping-stones, neither the
broadest nor steadiest that could be imagined. He had not climbed far up
the hill when he met a man descending.

He soon recognised his worthy host, though a 'maud,' as it is called, or
a grey shepherd's plaid, supplied his travelling jockey-coat, and a cap,
faced with wild-cat's fur, more comrhodiously covered his bandaged head
than a hat would have done. As he appeared through the morning mist,
Brown, accustomed to judge of men by their thewes and sinews, could not
help admiring his height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the steady
firmness of his step. Dinmont internally paid the same compliment to
Brown, whose athletic form he now perused somewhat more at leisure than
he had done formerly. After the usual greetings of the morning, the guest
inquired whether his host found any inconvenient consequences from the
last night's affray.

'I had maist forgotten't,' said the hardy Borderer; 'but I think this
morning, now that I am fresh and sober, if you and I were at the
Withershins' Latch, wi' ilka ane a gude oak souple in his hand, we wadna
turn back, no for half a dizzen o' yon scaff-raff.'

'But are you prudent, my good sir,' said Brown, 'not to take an hour or
two's repose after receiving such severe contusions?'

'Confusions!' replied the farmer, laughing in derision. 'Lord, Captain,
naething confuses my head. I ance jumped up and laid the dogs on the fox
after I had tumbled from the tap o' Christenbury Craig, and that might
have confused me to purpose. Na, naething confuses me, unless it be a
screed o' drink at an orra time. Besides, I behooved to be round the
hirsel this morning and see how the herds were coming on; they're apt to
be negligent wi' their footballs, and fairs, and trysts, when ane's away.
And there I met wi' Tarn o' Todshaw, and a wheen o' the rest o' the
billies on the water side; they're a' for a fox-hunt this morning,--ye'll
gang? I 'll gie ye Dumple, and take the brood mare mysell.'

'But I fear I must leave you this morning, Mr. Dinmont,' replied Brown.

'The fient a bit o' that,' exclaimed the Borderer. 'I'll no part wi' ye
at ony rate for a fortnight mair. Na, na; we dinna meet sic friends as
you on a Bewcastle moss every night.'

Brown had not designed his journey should be a speedy one; he therefore
readily compounded with this hearty invitation by agreeing to pass a week
at Charlie's Hope.

On their return to the house, where the goodwife presided over an ample
breakfast, she heard news of the proposed fox-hunt, not indeed with
approbation, but without alarm or surprise. 'Dand! ye're the auld man
yet; naething will make ye take warning till ye're brought hame some day
wi' your feet foremost.'

'Tut, lass!' answered Dandle, 'ye ken yoursell I am never a prin the waur
o' my rambles.'

So saying, he exhorted Brown to be hasty in despatching his breakfast,
as, 'the frost having given way, the scent would lie this morning
primely.'

Out they sallied accordingly for Otterscope Scaurs, the farmer leading
the way. They soon quitted the little valley, and involved themselves
among hills as steep as they could be without being precipitous. The
sides often presented gullies, down which, in the winter season, or after
heavy rain, the torrents descended with great fury. Some dappled mists
still floated along the peaks of the hills, the remains of the morning
clouds, for the frost had broken up with a smart shower. Through these
fleecy screens were seen a hundred little temporary streamlets, or rills,
descending the sides of the mountains like silver threads. By small
sheep-tracks along these steeps, over which Dinmont trotted with the most
fearless confidence, they at length drew near the scene of sport, and
began to see other men, both on horse and foot, making toward the place
of rendezvous. Brown was puzzling himself to conceive how a fox-chase
could take place among hills, where it was barely possible for a pony,
accustomed to the ground, to trot along, but where, quitting the track
for half a yard's breadth, the rider might be either bogged or
precipitated down the bank. This wonder was not diminished when he came
to the place of action.

They had gradually ascended very high, and now found themselves on a
mountain-ridge, overhanging a glen of great depth, but extremely narrow.
Here the sportsmen had collected, with an apparatus which would have
shocked a member of the Pychely Hunt; for, the object being the removal
of a noxious and destructive animal, as well as the pleasures of the
chase, poor Reynard was allowed much less fair play than when pursued in
form through an open country. The strength of his habitation, however,
and the nature of the ground by which it was surrounded on all sides,
supplied what was wanting in the courtesy of his pursuers. The sides of
the glen were broken banks of earth and rocks of rotten stone, which sunk
sheer down to the little winding stream below, affording here and there a
tuft of scathed brushwood or a patch of furze. Along the edges of this
ravine, which, as we have said, was very narrow, but of profound depth,
the hunters on horse and foot ranged themselves; almost every farmer had
with him at least a brace of large and fierce greyhounds, of the race of
those deer-dogs which were formerly used in that country, but greatly
lessened in size from being crossed with the common breed. The huntsman,
a sort of provincial officer of the district, who receives a certain
supply of meal, and a reward for every fox he destroys, was already at
the bottom of the dell, whose echoes thundered to the chiding of two or
three brace of foxhounds. Terriers, including the whole generation of
Pepper and Mustard, were also in attendance, having been sent forward
under the care of a shepherd. Mongrel, whelp, and cur of low degree
filled up the burden of the chorus. The spectators on the brink of the
ravine, or glen, held their greyhounds in leash in readiness to slip them
at the fox as soon as the activity of the party below should force him to
abandon his cover.

The scene, though uncouth to the eye of a professed sportsman, had
something in it wildly captivating. The shifting figures on the
mountain-ridge, having the sky for their background, appeared to move in
the air. The dogs, impatient of their restraint, and maddened with the
baying beneath, sprung here and there, and strained at the slips, which
prevented them from joining their companions. Looking down, the view was
equally striking. The thin mists were not totally dispersed in the glen,
so that it was often through their gauzy medium that the eye strove to
discover the motions of the hunters below. Sometimes a breath of wind
made the scene visible, the blue rill glittering as it twined itself
through its rude and solitary dell. They then could see the shepherds
springing with fearless activity from one dangerous point to another, and
cheering the dogs on the scent, the whole so diminished by depth and
distance that they looked like pigmies. Again the mists close over them,
and the only signs of their continued exertions are the halloos of the
men and the clamours of the hounds, ascending as it were out of the
bowels of the earth. When the fox, thus persecuted from one stronghold to
another, was at length obl'ged to abandon his valley, and to break away
for a more distant retreat, those who watched his motions from the top
slipped their greyhounds, which, excelling the fox in swiftness, and
equalling him in ferocity and spirit, soon brought the plunderer to his
life's end.

In this way, without any attention to the ordinary rules and decorums of
sport, but apparently as much to the gratification both of bipeds and
quadrupeds as if all due ritual had been followed, four foxes were killed
on this active morning; and even Brown himself, though he had seen the
princely sports of India, and ridden a-tiger-hunting upon an elephant
with the Nabob of Arcot, professed to have received an excellent
morning's amusement. When the sport was given up for the day, most of the
sportsmen, according to the established hospitality of the country, went
to dine at Charlie's Hope.

During their return homeward Brown rode for a short time beside the
huntsman, and asked him some questions concerning the mode in which he
exercised his profession. The man showed an unwillingness to meet his
eye, and a disposition to be rid of his company and conversation, for
which Brown could not easily account. He was a thin, dark, active fellow,
well framed for the hardy profession which he exercised. But his face had
not the frankness of the jolly hunter; he was down-looked, embarrassed,
and avoided the eyes of those who looked hard at him. After some
unimportant observations on the success of the day, Brown gave him a
trifling gratuity, and rode on with his landlord. They found the goodwife
prepared for their reception; the fold and the poultry-yard furnished the
entertainment, and the kind and hearty welcome made amends for all
deficiencies in elegance and fashion.






CHAPTER  XXVI
     The Elliots and Armstrongs did convene,
     They were a gallant company!

          Ballad of Johnnie Armstrong


Without noticing the occupations of an intervening day or two, which, as
they consisted of the ordinary silvan amusements of shooting and
coursing, have nothing sufficiently interesting to detain the reader, we
pass to one in some degree peculiar to Scotland, which may be called a
sort of salmon-hunting. This chase, in which the fish is pursued and
struck with barbed spears, or a sort of long-shafted trident, called a
waster, is much practised at the mouth of the Esk and in the other salmon
rivers of Scotland. The sport is followed by day and night, but most
commonly in the latter, when the fish are discovered by means of torches,
or fire-grates, filled with blazing fragments of tar-barrels, which shed
a strong though partial light upon the water. On the present occasion the
principal party were embarked in a crazy boat upon a part of the river
which was enlarged and deepened by the restraint of a mill-wear, while
others, like the ancient Bacchanals in their gambols, ran along the
banks, brandishing their torches and spears, and pursuing the salmon,
some of which endeavoured to escape up the stream, while others,
shrouding themselves under roots of trees, fragments of stones, and large
rocks, attempted to conceal themselves from the researches of the
fishermen. These the party in the boat detected by the slightest
indications; the twinkling of a fin, the rising of an airbell, was
sufficient to point out to these adroit sportsmen in what direction to
use their weapon.

The scene was inexpressibly animating to those accustomed to it; but, as
Brown was not practised to use the spear, he soon tired of making efforts
which were attended with no other consequences than jarring his arms
against the rocks at the bottom of the river, upon which, instead of the
devoted salmon, he often bestowed his blow. Nor did he relish, though he
concealed feelings which would not have been understood, being quite so
near the agonies of the expiring salmon, as they lay flapping about in
the boat, which they moistened with their blood. He therefore requested
to be put ashore, and, from the top of a heugh or broken bank, enjoyed
the scene much more to his satisfaction. Often he thought of his friend
Dudley the artist, when he observed the effect produced by the strong red
glare on the romantic banks under which the boat glided. Now the light
diminished to a distant star that seemed to twinkle on the waters, like
those which, according to the legends of the country, the water-kelpy
sends for the purpose of indicating the watery grave of his victims. Then
it advanced nearer, brightening and enlarging as it again approached,
till the broad flickering flame rendered bank and rock and tree visible
as it passed, tingeing them with its own red glare of dusky light, and
resigning them gradually to darkness, or to pale moonlight, as it
receded. By this light also were seen the figures in the boat, now
holding high their weapons, now stooping to strike, now standing upright,
bronzed by the same red glare into a colour which might have befitted the
regions of Pandemonium.

Having amused himself for some time with these effects of light and
shadow, Brown strolled homewards towards the farm-house, gazing in his
way at the persons engaged in the sport, two or three of whom are
generally kept together, one holding the torch, the others with their
spears, ready to avail themselves of the light it affords to strike their
prey. As he observed one man struggling with a very weighty salmon which
he had speared, but was unable completely to raise from the water, Brown
advanced close to the bank to see the issue of his exertions. The man who
held the torch in this instance was the huntsman, whose sulky demeanour
Brown had already noticed with surprise. 'Come here, sir! come here, sir!
look at this ane! He turns up a side like a sow.' Such was the cry from
the assistants when some of them observed Brown advancing.

'Ground the waster weel, man! ground the waster weel! Haud him down! Ye
haena the pith o' a cat!' were the cries of advice, encouragement, and
expostulation from those who were on the bank to the sportsman engaged
with the salmon, who stood up to his middle in water, jingling among
broken ice, struggling against the force of the fish and the strength of
the current, and dubious in what manner he should attempt to secure his
booty. As Brown came to the edge of the bank, he called out--'Hold up
your torch, friend huntsman!' for he had already distinguished his dusky
features by the strong light cast upon them by the blaze. But the fellow
no sooner heard his voice, and saw, or rather concluded, it was Brown who
approached him, than, instead of advancing his light, he let it drop, as
if accidentally, into the water.

'The deil's in Gabriel!' said the spearman, as the fragments of glowing
wood floated half-blazing, half-sparkling, but soon extinguished, down
the stream. 'The deil's in the man! I'll never master him without the
light; and a braver kipper, could I but land him, never reisted abune a
pair o' cleeks.'[Footnote: See Note 4] Some dashed into the water to lend
their assistance, and the fish, which was afterwards found to weigh
nearly thirty pounds, was landed in safety.

The behaviour of the huntsman struck Brown, although he had no
recollection of his face, nor could conceive why he should, as it
appeared he evidently did, shun his observation. Could he be one of the
footpads he had encountered a few days before? The supposition was not
altogether improbable, although unwarranted by any observation he was
able to make upon the man's figure and face. To be sure the villains wore
their hats much slouched, and had loose coats, and their size was not in
any way so peculiarly discriminated as to enable him to resort to that
criterion. He resolved to speak to his host Dinmont on the subject, but
for obvious reasons concluded it were best to defer the explanation until
a cool hour in the morning.

The sportsmen returned loaded with fish, upwards of one hundred salmon
having been killed within the range of their sport. The best were
selected for the use of the principal farmers, the others divided among
their shepherds, cottars, dependents, and others of inferior rank who
attended. These fish, dried in the turf smoke of their cabins or
shealings, formed a savoury addition to the mess of potatoes, mixed with
onions, which was the principal part of their winter food. In the
meanwhile a liberal distribution of ale and whisky was made among them,
besides what was called a kettle of fish,--two or three salmon, namely,
plunged into a cauldron and boiled for their supper. Brown accompanied
his jolly landlord and the rest of his friends into the large and smoky
kitchen, where this savoury mess reeked on an oaken table, massive enough
to have dined Johnnie Armstrong and his merry-men. All was hearty cheer
and huzza, and jest and clamorous laughter, and bragging alternately, and
raillery between whiles. Our traveller looked earnestly around for the
dark countenance of the fox-hunter; but it was nowhere to be seen.

At length he hazarded a question concerning him. 'That was an awkward
accident, my lads, of one of you, who dropped his torch in the water when
his companion was struggling with the large fish.'

'Awkward!' returned a shepherd, looking up (the same stout young fellow
who had speared the salmon); 'he deserved his paiks for't, to put out the
light when the fish was on ane's witters! I'm weel convinced Gabriel
drapped the roughies in the water on purpose; he doesna like to see ony
body do a thing better than himsell.'

'Ay,' said another, 'he's sair shamed o' himsell, else he would have been
up here the night; Gabriel likes a little o' the gude thing as weel as
ony o' us.'

'Is he of this country?' said Brown.

'Na, na, he's been but shortly in office, but he's a fell hunter; he's
frae down the country, some gate on the Dumfries side.'

'And what's his name, pray?'

'Gabriel.'

'But Gabriel what?'

'Oh, Lord kens that; we dinna mind folk's afternames muckle here, they
run sae muckle into clans.'

'Ye see, sir,' said an old shepherd, rising, and speaking very slow, 'the
folks hereabout are a' Armstrongs and Elliots,[Footnote: See Note 5] and
sic like--two or three given names--and so, for distinction's sake, the
lairds and farmers have the names of their places that they live at; as,
for example, Tam o' Todshaw, Will o' the Flat, Hobbie o' Sorbietrees, and
our good master here o' the Charlie's Hope. Aweel, sir, and then the
inferior sort o' people, ye'll observe, are kend by sorts o' by-names
some o' them, as Glaiket Christie, and the Deuke's Davie, or maybe, like
this lad Gabriel, by his employment; as, for example, Tod Gabbie, or
Hunter Gabbie. He's no been lang here, sir, and I dinna think ony body
kens him by ony other name. But it's no right to rin him doun ahint his
back, for he's a fell fox-hunter, though he's maybe no just sae clever as
some o' the folk hereawa wi' the waster.'

After some further desultory conversation, the superior sportsmen retired
to conclude the evening after their own manner, leaving the others to
enjoy themselves, unawed by their presence. That evening, like all those
which Brown had passed at Charlie's Hope, was spent in much innocent
mirth and conviviality. The latter might have approached to the verge of
riot but for the good women; for several of the neighbouring mistresses
(a phrase of a signification how different from what it bears in more
fashionable life!) had assembled at Charlie's Hope to witness the event
of this memorable evening. Finding the punch-bowl was so often
replenished that there was some danger of their gracious presence being
forgotten, they rushed in valorously upon the recreant revellers, headed
by our good mistress Ailie, so that Venus speedily routed Bacchus. The
fiddler and piper next made their appearance, and the best part of the
night was gallantly consumed in dancing to their music.

An otter-hunt the next day, and a badger-baiting the day after, consumed
the time merrily. I hope our traveller will not sink in the reader's
estimation, sportsman though he may be, when I inform him that on this
last occasion, after young Pepper had lost a fore-foot and Mustard the
second had been nearly throttled, he begged, as a particular and personal
favour of Mr. Dinmont, that the poor badger, who had made so gallant a
defence, should be permitted to retire to his earth without farther
molestation.

The farmer, who would probably have treated this request with supreme
contempt had it come from any other person, was contented in Brown's case
to express the utter extremity of his wonder. 'Weel,' he said, 'that's
queer aneugh! But since ye take his part, deil a tyke shall meddle wi'
him mair in my day. We 'll e'en mark him, and ca' him the Captain's
brock; and I'm sure I'm glad I can do ony thing to oblige you,--but, Lord
save us, to care about a brock!'

After a week spent in rural sport, and distinguished by the most frank
attentions on the part of his honest landlord, Brown bade adieu to the
banks of the Liddel and the hospitality of Charlie's Hope. The children,
with all of whom he had now become an intimate and a favourite, roared
manfully in full chorus at his departure, and he was obliged to promise
twenty times that he would soon return and play over all their favourite
tunes upon the flageolet till they had got them by heart. 'Come back
again, Captain,' said one little sturdy fellow, 'and Jenny will be your
wife.' Jenny was about eleven years old; she ran and hid herself behind
her mammy.

'Captain, come back,' said a little fat roll-about girl of six, holding
her mouth up to be kissed, 'and I'll be your wife my ainsell.'

'They must be of harder mould than I,' thought Brown, 'who could part
from so many kind hearts with indifference.' The good dame too, with
matron modesty, and an affectionate simplicity that marked the olden
time, offered her cheek to the departing guest. 'It's little the like of
us can do,' she said, 'little indeed; but yet, if there were but ony
thing--'

'Now, my dear Mrs. Dinmont, you embolden me to make a request: would you
but have the kindness to weave me, or work me, just such a grey plaid as
the goodman wears?' He had learned the language and feelings of the
country even during the short time of his residence, and was aware of the
pleasure the request would confer.

'A tait o' woo' would be scarce amang us,' said the goodwife,
brightening, 'if ye shouldna hae that, and as gude a tweel as ever cam
aff a pirn. I'll speak to Johnnie Goodsire, the weaver at the Castletown,
the morn. Fare ye weel, sir! and may ye be just as happy yoursell as ye
like to see a' body else; and that would be a sair wish to some folk.'

I must not omit to mention that our traveller left his trusty attendant
Wasp to be a guest at Charlie's Hope for a season. He foresaw that he
might prove a troublesome attendant in the event of his being in any
situation where secrecy and concealment might be necessary. He was
therefore consigned to the care of the eldest boy, who promised, in the
words of the old song, that he should have
     A bit of his supper, a bit of his bed,
and that he should be engaged in none of those perilous pastimes in which
the race of Mustard and Pepper had suffered frequent mutilation. Brown
now prepared for his journey, having taken a temporary farewell of his
trusty little companion.

There is an odd prejudice in these hills in favour of riding. Every
farmer rides well, and rides the whole day. Probably the extent of their
large pasture farms, and the necessity of surveying them rapidly, first
introduced this custom; or a very zealous antiquary might derive it from
the times of the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel,' when twenty thousand
horsemen assembled at the light of the beacon-fires. [Footnote: It would
be affectation to alter this reference. But the reader will understand
that it was inserted to keep up the author's incognito, as he was not
likely to be suspected of quoting his own works. This explanation is also
applicable to one or two similar passages, in this and the other novels,
introduced for the same reason.] But the truth is undeniable; they like
to be on horseback, and can be with difficulty convinced that any one
chooses walking from other motives than those of convenience or
necessity. Accordingly, Dinmont insisted upon mounting his guest and
accompanying him on horseback as far as the nearest town in
Dumfries-shire, where he had directed his baggage to be sent, and from
which he proposed to pursue his intended journey towards Woodbourne, the
residence of Julia Mannering.

Upon the way he questioned his companion concerning the character of the
fox-hunter; but gained little information, as he had been called to that
office while Dinmont was making the round of the Highland fairs. 'He was
a shake-rag like fellow,' he said, 'and, he dared to say, had gipsy blood
in his veins; but at ony rate he was nane o' the smaiks that had been on
their quarters in the moss; he would ken them weel if he saw them again.
There are some no bad folk amang the gipsies too, to be sic a gang,'
added Dandie; 'if ever I see that auld randle-tree of a wife again, I 'll
gie her something to buy tobacco. I have a great notion she meant me very
fair after a'.'

When they were about finally to part, the good farmer held Brown long by
the hand, and at length said, 'Captain, the woo's sae weel up the year
that it's paid a' the rent, and we have naething to do wi' the rest o'
the siller when Ailie has had her new gown, and the bairns their bits o'
duds. Now I was thinking of some safe hand to put it into, for it's ower
muckle to ware on brandy and sugar; now I have heard that you army
gentlemen can sometimes buy yoursells up a step, and if a hundred or twa
would help ye on such an occasion, the bit scrape o' your pen would be as
good to me as the siller, and ye might just take yer ain time o' settling
it; it wad be a great convenience to me.' Brown, who felt the full
delicacy that wished to disguise the conferring an obligation under the
show of asking a favour, thanked his grateful friend most heartily, and
assured him he would have recourse to his purse without scruple should
circumstances ever render it convenient for him. And thus they parted
with many expressions of mutual regard.






CHAPTER  XXVII
     If thou hast any love of mercy in thee,
     Turn me upon my face that I may die.

           JOANNA BALLIE.


Our traveller hired a post-chaise at the place where he separated from
Dinmont, with the purpose of proceeding to Kippletringan, there to
inquire into the state of the family at Woodbourne, before he should
venture to make his presence in the country known to Miss Mannering. The
stage was a long one of eighteen or twenty miles, and the road lay across
the country. To add to the inconveniences of the journey, the snow began
to fall pretty quickly. The postilion, however, proceeded on his journey
for a good many miles without expressing doubt or hesitation. It was not
until the night was completely set in that he intimated his apprehensions
whether he was in the right road. The increasing snow rendered this
intimation rather alarming, for, as it drove full in the lad's face and
lay whitening all around him, it served in two different ways to confuse
his knowledge of the country, and to diminish the chance of his
recovering the right track. Brown then himself got out and looked round,
not, it may be well imagined, from any better hope than that of seeing
some house at which he might make inquiry. But none appeared; he could
therefore only tell the lad to drive steadily on. The road on which they
were ran through plantations of considerable extent and depth, and the
traveller therefore conjectured that there must be a gentleman's house at
no great distance. At length, after struggling wearily on for about a
mile, the post-boy stopped, and protested his horses would not budge a
foot farther; 'but he saw,' he said, 'a light among the trees, which must
proceed from a house; the only way was to inquire the road there.'
Accordingly, he dismounted, heavily encumbered with a long great-coat and
a pair of boots which might have rivalled in thickness the seven-fold
shield of Ajax. As in this guise he was plodding forth upon his voyage of
discovery, Brown's impatience prevailed, and, jumping out of the
carriage, he desired the lad to stop where he was by the horses, and he
would himself go to the house; a command which the driver most joyfully
obeyed.

Our traveller groped along the side of the inclosure from which the light
glimmered, in order to find some mode of approaching in that direction,
and, after proceeding for some space, at length found a stile in the
hedge, and a pathway leading into the plantation, which in that place was
of great extent. This promised to lead to the light which was the object
of his search, and accordingly Brown proceeded in that direction, but
soon totally lost sight of it among the trees. The path, which at first
seemed broad and well marked by the opening of the wood through which it
winded, was now less easily distinguishable, although the whiteness of
the snow afforded some reflected light to assist his search. Directing
himself as much as possible through the more open parts of the wood, he
proceeded almost a mile without either recovering a view of the light or
seeing anything resembling a habitation. Still, however, he thought it
best to persevere in that direction. It must surely have been a light in
the hut of a forester, for it shone too steadily to be the glimmer of an
ignis fatuus. The ground at length became broken and declined rapidly,
and, although Brown conceived he still moved along what had once at least
been a pathway, it was now very unequal, and the snow concealing those
breaches and inequalities, the traveller had one or two falls in
consequence. He began now to think of turning back, especially as the
falling snow, which his impatience had hitherto prevented his attending
to, was coming on thicker and faster.

Willing, however, to make a last effort, he still advanced a little way,
when to his great delight he beheld the light opposite at no great
distance, and apparently upon a level with him. He quickly found that
this last appearance was deception, for the ground continued so rapidly
to sink as made it obvious there was a deep dell, or ravine of some kind,
between him and the object of his search. Taking every precaution to
preserve his footing, he continued to descend until he reached the bottom
of a very steep and narrow glen, through which winded a small rivulet,
whose course was then almost choked with snow. He now found himself
embarrassed among the ruins of cottages, whose black gables, rendered
more distinguishable by the contrast with the whitened surface from which
they rose, were still standing; the side-walls had long since given way
to time, and, piled in shapeless heaps and covered with snow, offered
frequent and embarrassing obstacles to our traveller's progress. Still,
however, he persevered, crossed the rivulet, not without some trouble,
and at length, by exertions which became both painful and perilous,
ascended its opposite and very rugged bank, until he came on a level with
the building from which the gleam proceeded.

It was difficult, especially by so imperfect a light, to discover the
nature of this edifice; but it seemed a square building of small size,
the upper part of which was totally ruinous. It had, perhaps, been the
abode in former times of some lesser proprietor, or a place of strength
and concealment, in case of need, for one of greater importance. But only
the lower vault remained, the arch of which formed the roof in the
present state of the building. Brown first approached the place from
whence the light proceeded, which was a long narrow slit or loop-hole,
such as usually are to be found in old castles. Impelled by curiosity to
reconnoitre the interior of this strange place before he entered, Brown
gazed in at this aperture. A scene of greater desolation could not well
be imagined. There was a fire upon the floor, the smoke of which, after
circling through the apartment, escaped by a hole broken in the arch
above. The walls, seen by this smoky light, had the rude and waste
appearance of a ruin of three centuries old at least. A cask or two, with
some broken boxes and packages, lay about the place in confusion. But the
inmates chiefly occupied Brown's attention. Upon a lair composed of
straw, with a blanket stretched over it, lay a figure, so still that,
except that it was not dressed in the ordinary habiliments of the grave,
Brown would have concluded it to be a corpse. On a steadier view he
perceived it was only on the point of becoming so, for he heard one or
two of those low, deep, and hard-drawn sighs that precede dissolution
when the frame is tenacious of life. A female figure, dressed in a long
cloak, sate on a stone by this miserable couch; her elbows rested upon
her knees, and her face, averted from the light of an iron lamp beside
her, was bent upon that of the dying person. She moistened his mouth from
time to time with some liquid, and between whiles sung, in a low
monotonous cadence, one of those prayers, or rather spells, which, in
some parts of Scotland and the north of England, are used by the vulgar
and ignorant to speed the passage of a parting spirit, like the tolling
of the bell in Catholic days. She accompanied this dismal sound with a
slow rocking motion of her body to and fro, as if to keep time with her
song. The words ran nearly thus:--

     Wasted, weary, wherefore stay,
      Wrestling thus with earth and clay?
      From the body pass away.
           Hark! the mass is singing.

     From thee doff thy mortal weed,
      Mary Mother be thy speed,
      Saints to help thee at thy need.
           Hark! the knell is ringing.

     Fear not snow-drift driving fast,
      Sleet, or hail, or levin blast.
      Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast,
      And the sleep be on thee cast
           That shall ne'er know waking.

     Haste thee, haste thee, to be gone,
      Earth flits fast, and time draws on.
      Gasp thy gasp, and groan thy groan,
           Day is near the breaking.

The songstress paused, and was answered by one or two deep and hollow
groans, that seemed to proceed from the very agony of the mortal strife.
'It will not be,' she muttered to herself; 'he cannot pass away with that
on his mind, it tethers him here--

     Heaven cannot abide it,
      Earth refuses to hide it.

[Footnote: See Note 6.]

I must open the door'; and, rising, she faced towards the door of the
apartment, observing heedfully not to turn back her head, and,
withdrawing a bolt or two (for, notwithstanding the miserable appearance
of the place, the door was cautiously secured), she lifted the latch,
saying,

Open lock, end strife, Come death, and pass life.

Brown, who had by this time moved from his post, stood before her as she
opened the door. She stepped back a pace, and he entered, instantly
recognising, but with no comfortable sensation, the same gipsy woman whom
he had met in Bewcastle. She also knew him at once, and her attitude,
figure, and the anxiety of her countenance, assumed the appearance of the
well-disposed ogress of a fairy tale, warning a stranger not to enter the
dangerous castle of her husband. The first words she spoke (holding up
her hands in a reproving manner) were, 'Said I not to ye, Make not,
meddle not? Beware of the redding straik! [Footnote: The redding straik,
namely, a blow received by a peacemaker who interferes betwixt two
combatants, to red or separate them, is proverbially said to be the most
dangerous blow a man can receive.] You are come to no house o' fair-strae
death.' So saying, she raised the lamp and turned its light on the dying
man, whose rude and harsh features were now convulsed with the last
agony. A roll of linen about his head was stained with blood, which had
soaked also through the blankets and the straw. It was, indeed, under no
natural disease that the wretch was suffering. Brown started back from
this horrible object, and, turning to the gipsy, exclaimed, 'Wretched
woman, who has done this?'