hauled up high and dry, and patched and clouted sae mony years, that she
might drown my poor Steenie at the end of them, an' be d - d to her!" and
he flung his hammer against the boat, as if she had been the intentional
cause of his misfortune. Then recollecting himself, he added, "Yet what
needs ane be angry at her, that has neither soul nor sense? - though I am
no that muckle better mysell. She's but a rickle o' auld rotten deals
nailed thegither, and warped wi' the wind and the sea - and I am a dour
carle, battered by foul weather at sea and land till I am maist as
senseless as hersell. She maun be mended though again the morning tide -
that's a thing o' necessity."
Thus speaking, he went to gather together his instruments, and attempt to
resume his labour, - but Oldbuck took him kindly by the arm. "Come, come,"
he said, "Saunders, there is no work for you this day - I'll send down
Shavings the carpenter to mend the boat, and he may put the day's work
into my account - and you had better not come out to-morrow, but stay to
comfort your family under this dispensation, and the gardener will bring
you some vegetables and meal from Monkbarns."
"I thank ye, Monkbarns," answered the poor fisher; "I am a plain-spoken
man, and hae little to say for mysell; I might hae learned fairer
fashions frae my mither lang syne, but I never saw muckle gude they did
her; however, I thank ye. Ye were aye kind and neighbourly, whatever folk
says o' your being near and close; and I hae often said, in thae times
when they were ganging to raise up the puir folk against the gentles - I
hae often said, neer a man should steer a hair touching to Monkbarns
while Steenie and I could wag a finger - and so said Steenie too. And,
Monkbarns, when ye laid his head in the grave (and mony thanks for the
respect), ye, saw the mouls laid on an honest lad that likit you weel,
though he made little phrase about it."
Oldbuck, beaten from the pride of his affected cynicism, would not
willingly have had any one by on that occasion to quote to him his
favourite maxims of the Stoic philosophy. The large drops fell fast from
his own eyes, as he begged the father, who was now melted at recollecting
the bravery and generous sentiments of his son, to forbear useless
sorrow, and led him by the arm towards his own home, where another scene
awaited our Antiquary.
As he entered, the first person whom he beheld was Lord Glenallan. Mutual
surprise was in their countenances as they saluted each other - with
haughty reserve on the part of Mr. Oldbuck, and embarrassment on that of
the Earl.
"My Lord Glenallan, I think?" said Mr. Oldbuck.
"Yes - much changed from what he was when he knew Mr. Oldbuck."
"I do not mean," said the Antiquary, "to intrude upon your lordship - I
only came to see this distressed family."
"And you have found one, sir, who has still greater claims on your
compassion."
"My compassion? Lord Glenallan cannot need my compassion. If Lord
Glenallan could need it, I think he would hardly ask it."
"Our former acquaintance," said the Earl -
"Is of such ancient date, my lord - was of such short duration, and was
connected with circumstances so exquisitely painful, that I think we may
dispense with renewing it."
So saying, the Antiquary turned away, and left the hut; but Lord
Glenallan followed him into the open air, and, in spite of a hasty "Good
morning, my lord," requested a few minutes' conversation, and the favour
of his advice in an important matter.
"Your lordship will find many more capable to advise you, my lord, and by
whom your intercourse will be deemed an honour. For me, I am a man
retired from business and the world, and not very fond of raking up the
past events of my useless life; - and forgive me if I say, I have
particular pain in reverting to that period of it when I acted like a
fool, and your lordship like" - He stopped short.
"Like a villain, you would say," said Lord Glenallan - "for such I must
have appeared to you."
"My lord - my lord, I have no desire to hear your shrift," said the
Antiquary.
"But, sir, if I can show you that I am more sinned against than sinning -
that I have been a man miserable beyond the power of description, and who
looks forward at this moment to an untimely grave as to a haven of rest,
you will not refuse the confidence which, accepting your appearance at
this critical moment as a hint from Heaven, I venture thus to press on
you."
"Assuredly, my lord, I shall shun no longer the continuation of this
extraordinary interview."
"I must then recall to you our occasional meetings upwards of twenty
years since at Knockwinnock Castle, - and I need not remind you of a lady
who was then a member of that family."
"The unfortunate Miss Eveline Neville, my lord; I remember it well."
"Towards whom you entertained sentiments" -
"Very different from those with which I before and since have regarded
her sex. Her gentleness, her docility, her pleasure in the studies which
I pointed out to her, attached my affections more than became my age
though that was not then much advanced - or the solidity of my character.
But I need not remind your lordship of the various modes in which you
indulged your gaiety at the expense of an awkward and retired student,
embarrassed by the expression of feelings so new to him, and I have no
doubt that the young lady joined you in the well-deserved ridicule - it is
the way of womankind. I have spoken at once to the painful circumstances
of my addresses and their rejection, that your lordship may be satisfied
everything is full in my memory, and may, so far as I am concerned, tell
your story without scruple or needless delicacy."
"I will," said Lord Glenallan. "But first let me say, you do injustice to
the memory of the gentlest and kindest, as well as to the most unhappy of
women, to suppose she could make a jest of the honest affection of a man
like you. Frequently did she blame me, Mr. Oldbuck, for indulging my
levity at your expense - may I now presume you will excuse the gay
freedoms which then offended you? - my state of mind has never since laid
me under the necessity of apologizing for the inadvertencies of a light
and happy temper."
"My lord, you are fully pardoned," said Mr. Oldbuck. "You should be
aware, that, like all others, I was ignorant at the time that I placed
myself in competition with your lordship, and understood that Miss
Neville was in a state of dependence which might make her prefer a
competent independence and the hand of an honest man - But I am wasting
time - I would I could believe that the views entertained towards her by
others were as fair and honest as mine!"
"Mr. Oldbuck, you judge harshly."
"Not without cause, my lord. When I only, of all the magistrates of this
county - having neither, like some of them, the honour to be connected
with your powerful family - nor, like others, the meanness to fear it, -
when I made some inquiry into the manner of Miss Neville's death - I shake
you, my lord, but I must be plain - I do own I had every reason to believe
that she had met most unfair dealing, and had either been imposed upon by
a counterfeit marriage, or that very strong measures had been adopted to
stifle and destroy the evidence of a real union. And I cannot doubt in my
own mind, that this cruelty on your lordship's part, whether coming of
your own free will, or proceeding from the influence of the late
Countess, hurried the unfortunate young lady to the desperate act by
which her life was terminated."
"You are deceived, Mr. Oldbuck, into conclusions which are not just,
however naturally they flow from the circumstances. Believe me, I
respected you even when I was most embarrassed by your active attempts to
investigate our family misfortunes. You showed yourself more worthy of
Miss Neville than I, by the spirit with which you persisted in
vindicating her reputation even after her death. But the firm belief that
your well-meant efforts could only serve to bring to light a story too
horrible to be detailed, induced me to join my unhappy mother in schemes
to remove or destroy all evidence of the legal union which had taken
place between Eveline and myself. And now let us sit down on this bank, -
for I feel unable to remain longer standing, - and have the goodness to
listen to the extraordinary discovery which I have this day made."
They sate down accordingly; and Lord Glenallan briefly narrated his
unhappy family history - his concealed marriage - the horrible invention by
which his mother had designed to render impossible that union which had
already taken place. He detailed the arts by which the Countess, having
all the documents relative to Miss Neville's birth in her hands, had
produced those only relating to a period during which, for family
reasons, his father had consented to own that young lady as his natural
daughter, and showed how impossible it was that he could either suspect
or detect the fraud put upon him by his mother, and vouched by the oaths
of her attendants, Teresa and Elspeth. "I left my paternal mansion," he
concluded, "as if the furies of hell had driven me forth, and travelled
with frantic velocity I knew not whither. Nor have I the slightest
recollection of what I did or whither I went, until I was discovered by
my brother. I will not trouble you with an account of my sick-bed and
recovery, or how, long afterwards, I ventured to inquire after the sharer
of my misfortunes, and heard that her despair had found a dreadful remedy
for all the ills of life. The first thing that roused me to thought was
hearing of your inquiries into this cruel business; and you will hardly
wonder, that, believing what I did believe, I should join in those
expedients to stop your investigation, which my brother and mother had
actively commenced. The information which I gave them concerning the
circumstances and witnesses of our private marriage enabled them to
baffle your zeal. The clergyman, therefore, and witnesses, as persons who
had acted in the matter only to please the powerful heir of Glenallan,
were accessible to his promises and threats, and were so provided for,
that they had no objections to leave this country for another. For
myself, Mr. Oldbuck," pursued this unhappy man, "from that moment I
considered myself as blotted out of the book of the living, and as having
nothing left to do with this world. My mother tried to reconcile me to
life by every art - even by intimations which I can now interpret as
calculated to produce a doubt of the horrible tale she herself had
fabricated. But I construed all she said as the fictions of maternal
affection. I will forbear all reproach. She is no more - and, as her
wretched associate said, she knew not how the dart was poisoned, or how
deep it must sink, when she threw it from her hand. But, Mr. Oldbuck, if
ever, during these twenty years, there crawled upon earth a living being
deserving of your pity, I have been that man. My food has not nourished
me - my sleep has not refreshed me - my devotions have not comforted me -
all that is cheering and necessary to man has been to me converted into
poison. The rare and limited intercourse which I have held with others
has been most odious to me. I felt as if I were bringing the
contamination of unnatural and inexpressible guilt among the gay and the
innocent. There have been moments when I had thoughts of another
description - to plunge into the adventures of war, or to brave the
dangers of the traveller in foreign and barbarous climates - to mingle in
political intrigue, or to retire to the stern seclusion of the anchorites
of our religion; - all these are thoughts which have alternately passed
through my mind, but each required an energy, which was mine no longer,
after the withering stroke I had received. I vegetated on as I could in
the same spot - fancy, feeling, judgment, and health, gradually decaying,
like a tree whose bark has been destroyed, - when first the blossoms fade,
then the boughs, until its state resembles the decayed and dying trunk
that is now before you. Do you now pity and forgive me?"
"My lord," answered the Antiquary, much affected, "my pity - my
forgiveness, you have not to ask, for your dismal story is of itself not
only an ample excuse for whatever appeared mysterious in your conduct,
but a narrative that might move your worst enemies (and I, my lord, was
never of the number) to tears and to sympathy. But permit me to ask what
you now mean to do, and why you have honoured me, whose opinion can be of
little consequence, with your confidence on this occasion?"
"Mr. Oldbuck," answered the Earl, "as I could never have foreseen the
nature of that confession which I have heard this day, I need not say
that I had no formed plan of consulting you, or any one, upon affairs the
tendency of which I could not even have suspected. But I am without
friends, unused to business, and, by long retirement, unacquainted alike
with the laws of the land and the habits of the living generation; and
when, most unexpectedly, I find myself immersed in the matters of which I
know least, I catch, like a drowning man, at the first support that
offers. You are that support, Mr. Oldbuck. I have always heard you
mentioned as a man of wisdom and intelligence - I have known you myself as
a man of a resolute and independent spirit; - and there is one
circumstance," said he, "which ought to combine us in some degree - our
having paid tribute to the same excellence of character in poor Eveline.
You offered yourself to me in my need, and you were already acquainted
with the beginning of my misfortunes. To you, therefore, I have recourse
for advice, for sympathy, for support."
"You shall seek none of them in vain, my lord," said Oldbuck, "so far as
my slender ability extends; - and I am honoured by the preference, whether
it arises from choice, or is prompted by chance. But this is a matter to
be ripely considered. May I ask what are your principal views at
present?"
"To ascertain the fate of my child," said the Earl, "be the consequences
what they may, and to do justice to the honour of Eveline, which I have
only permitted to be suspected to avoid discovery of the yet more
horrible taint to which I was made to believe it liable."
"And the memory of your mother?"
"Must bear its own burden," answered the Earl with a sigh: "better that
she were justly convicted of deceit, should that be found necessary, than
that others should be unjustly accused of crimes so much more dreadful."
"Then, my lord," said Oldbuck, "our first business must be to put the
information of the old woman, Elspeth, into a regular and authenticated
form."
"That," said Lord Glenallan, "will be at present, I fear, impossible. She
is exhausted herself, and surrounded by her distressed family. To-morrow,
perhaps, when she is alone - and yet I doubt, from her imperfect sense of
right and wrong, whether she would speak out in any one's presence but my
own. I am too sorely fatigued."
"Then, my lord," said the Antiquary, whom the interest of the moment
elevated above points of expense and convenience, which had generally
more than enough of weight with him, "I would propose to your lordship,
instead of returning, fatigued as you are, so far as to Glenallan House,
or taking the more uncomfortable alternative of going to a bad inn at
Fairport, to alarm all the busybodies of the town - I would propose, I
say, that you should be my guest at Monkbarns for this night. By
to-morrow these poor people will have renewed their out-of-doors
vocation - for sorrow with them affords no respite from labour, - and we
will visit the old woman Elspeth alone, and take down her examination."
After a formal apology for the encroachment, Lord Glenallan agreed to go
with him, and underwent with patience in their return home the whole
history of John of the Girnel, a legend which Mr. Oldbuck was never known
to spare any one who crossed his threshold.
The arrival of a stranger of such note, with two saddle-horses and a
servant in black, which servant had holsters on his saddle-bow, and a
coronet upon the holsters, created a general commotion in the house of
Monkbarns. Jenny Rintherout, scarce recovered from the hysterics which
she had taken on hearing of poor Steenie's misfortune, chased about the
turkeys and poultry, cackled and screamed louder than they did, and ended
by killing one-half too many. Miss Griselda made many wise reflections on
the hot-headed wilfulness of her brother, who had occasioned such
devastation, by suddenly bringing in upon them a papist nobleman. And she
ventured to transmit to Mr. Blattergowl some hint of the unusual
slaughter which had taken place in the _basse-cour,_ which brought the
honest clergyman to inquire how his friend Monkbarns had got home, and
whether he was not the worse of being at the funeral, at a period so near
the ringing of the bell for dinner, that the Antiquary had no choice left
but to invite him to stay and bless the meat. Miss M'Intyre had on her
part some curiosity to see this mighty peer, of whom all had heard, as an
eastern caliph or sultan is heard of by his subjects, and felt some
degree of timidity at the idea of encountering a person, of whose
unsocial habits and stern manners so many stories were told, that her
fear kept at least pace with her curiosity. The aged housekeeper was no
less flustered and hurried in obeying the numerous and contradictory
commands of her mistress, concerning preserves, pastry and fruit, the
mode of marshalling and dishing the dinner, the necessity of not
permitting the melted butter to run to oil, and the danger of allowing
Juno - who, though formally banished from the parlour, failed not to
maraud about the out-settlements of the family - to enter the kitchen.
The only inmate of Monkbarns who remained entirely indifferent on this
momentous occasion was Hector M'Intyre, who cared no more for an Earl
than he did for a commoner, and who was only interested in the unexpected
visit, as it might afford some protection against his uncle's
displeasure, if he harboured any, for his not attending the funeral, and
still more against his satire upon the subject of his gallant but
unsuccessful single combat with the _phoca,_ or seal.
To these, the inmates of his household, Oldbuck presented the Earl of
Glenallan, who underwent, with meek and subdued civility, the prosing
speeches of the honest divine, and the lengthened apologies of Miss
Griselda Oldbuck, which her brother in vain endeavoured to abridge.
Before the dinner hour, Lord Glenallan requested permission to retire a
while to his chamber. Mr. Oldbuck accompanied his guest to the Green
Room, which had been hastily prepared for his reception. He looked around
with an air of painful recollection.
"I think," at length he observed, "I think, Mr. Oldbuck, that I have been
in this apartment before."
"Yes, my lord," answered Oldbuck, "upon occasion of an excursion hither
from Knockwinnock - and since we are upon a subject so melancholy, you may
perhaps remember whose taste supplied these lines from Chaucer, which now
form the motto of the tapestry."
"I guess", said the Earl, "though I cannot recollect. She excelled me,
indeed, in literary taste and information, as in everything else; and it
is one of the mysterious dispensations of Providence, Mr. Oldbuck, that a
creature so excellent in mind and body should have been cut off in so
miserable a manner, merely from her having formed a fatal attachment to
such a wretch as I am."
Mr. Oldbuck did not attempt an answer to this burst of the grief which
lay ever nearest to the heart of his guest, but, pressing Lord
Glenallan's hand with one of his own, and drawing the other across his
shaggy eyelashes, as if to brush away a mist that intercepted his sight,
he left the Earl at liberty to arrange himself previous to dinner.
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH
- Life, with you,
Glows in the brain and dances in the arteries;
'Tis like the wine some joyous guest hath quaffed,
That glads the heart and elevates the fancy:
Mine is the poor residuum of the cup,
Vapid, and dull, and tasteless, only soiling,
With its base dregs, the vessel that contains it.
Old Play.
"Now, only think what a man my brother is, Mr. Blattergowl, for a wise
man and a learned man, to bring this Yerl into our house without speaking
a word to a body! And there's the distress of thae Mucklebackits - we
canna get a fin o' fish - and we hae nae time to send ower to Fairport for
beef, and the mutton's but new killed - and that silly fliskmahoy, Jenny
Rintherout, has taen the exies, and done naething but laugh and greet,
the skirl at the tail o' the guffaw, for twa days successfully - and now
we maun ask that strange man, that's as grand and as grave as the Yerl
himsell, to stand at the sideboard! and I canna gang into the kitchen to
direct onything, for he's hovering there, making some pousowdie* for my
Lord, for he doesna eat like ither folk neither - And how to sort the
strange servant man at dinner time - I am sure, Mr. Blattergowl,
a'thegither, it passes my judgment."
* _Pousowdie,_ - Miscellaneous mess.
"Truly, Miss Griselda," replied the divine, "Monkbarns was inconsiderate.
He should have taen a day to see the invitation, as they do wi' the
titular's condescendence in the process of valuation and sale. But the
great man could not have come on a sudden to ony house in this parish
where he could have been better served with _vivers_ - that I must say -
and also that the steam from the kitchen is very gratifying to my
nostrils; - and if ye have ony household affairs to attend to, Mrs.
Griselda, never make a stranger of me - I can amuse mysell very weel with
the larger copy of Erskine's Institutes."
And taking down from the window-seat that amusing folio, (the Scottish
Coke upon Littleton), he opened it, as if instinctively, at the tenth
title of Book Second, "of Teinds or Tythes," and was presently deeply
wrapped up in an abstruse discussion concerning the temporality of
benefices.
The entertainment, about which Miss Oldbuck expressed so much anxiety,
was at length placed upon the table; and the Earl of Glenallan, for the
first time since the date of his calamity, sat at a stranger's board,
surrounded by strangers. He seemed to himself like a man in a dream, or
one whose brain was not fully recovered from the effects of an
intoxicating potion. Relieved, as he had that morning been, from the
image of guilt which had so long haunted his imagination, he felt his
sorrows as a lighter and more tolerable load, but was still unable to
take any share in the conversation that passed around him. It was,
indeed, of a cast very different from that which he had been accustomed
to. The bluntness of Oldbuck, the tiresome apologetic harangues of his
sister, the pedantry of the divine, and the vivacity of the young
soldier, which savoured much more of the camp than of the court, were all
new to a nobleman who had lived in a retired and melancholy state for so
many years, that the manners of the world seemed to him equally strange
and unpleasing. Miss M'Intyre alone, from the natural politeness and
unpretending simplicity of her manners, appeared to belong to that class
of society to which he had been accustomed in his earlier and better
days.
Nor did Lord Glenallan's deportment less surprise the company. Though a
plain but excellent family-dinner was provided (for, as Mr. Blattergowl
had justly said, it was impossible to surprise Miss Griselda when her
larder was empty), and though the Antiquary boasted his best port, and
assimilated it to the Falernian of Horace, Lord Glenallan was proof to
the allurements of both. His servant placed before him a small mess of
vegetables, that very dish, the cooking of which had alarmed Miss
Griselda, arranged with the most minute and scrupulous neatness. He ate
sparingly of these provisions; and a glass of pure water, sparkling from
the fountain-head, completed his repast. Such, his servant said, had been
his lordship's diet for very many years, unless upon the high festivals
of the Church, or when company of the first rank were entertained at
Glenallan House, when he relaxed a little in the austerity of his diet,
and permitted himself a glass or two of wine. But at Monkbarns, no
anchoret could have made a more simple and scanty meal.
The Antiquary was a gentleman, as we have seen, in feeling, but blunt and
careless in expression, from the habit of living with those before whom
he had nothing to suppress. He attacked his noble guest without scruple
on the severity of his regimen.
"A few half-cold greens and potatoes - a glass of ice-cold water to wash
them down - antiquity gives no warrant for it, my lord. This house used to
be accounted a _hospitium,_ a place of retreat for Christians; but your
lordship's diet is that of a heathen Pythagorean, or Indian Bramin - nay,
more severe than either, if you refuse these fine apples."
"I am a Catholic, you are aware," said Lord Glenallan, wishing to escape
from the discussion, "and you know that our church" - -
"Lays down many rules of mortification," proceeded the dauntless
Antiquary; "but I never heard that they were quite so rigorously
practised - Bear witness my predecessor, John of the Girnel, or the jolly
Abbot, who gave his name to this apple, my lord."
And as he pared the fruit, in spite of his sister's "O fie, Monkbarns!"
and the prolonged cough of the minister, accompanied by a shake of his
huge wig, the Antiquary proceeded to detail the intrigue which had given
rise to the fame of the abbot's apple with more slyness and
circumstantiality than was at all necessary. His jest (as may readily be
conceived) missed fire, for this anecdote of conventual gallantry failed
to produce the slightest smile on the visage of the Earl. Oldbuck then
took up the subject of Ossian, Macpherson, and Mac-Cribb; but Lord
Glenallan had never so much as heard of any of the three, so little
conversant had he been with modern literature. The conversation was now
in some danger of flagging, or of falling into the hands of Mr.
Blattergowl, who had just pronounced the formidable word, "teind-free,"
when the subject of the French Revolution was started - a political event
on which Lord Glenallan looked with all the prejudiced horror of a
bigoted Catholic and zealous aristocrat. Oldbuck was far from carrying
his detestation of its principles to such a length.
"There were many men in the first Constituent Assembly," he said, "who
held sound Whiggish doctrines, and were for settling the Constitution
with a proper provision for the liberties of the people. And if a set of
furious madmen were now in possession of the government, it was," he
continued, "what often happened in great revolutions, where extreme
measures are adopted in the fury of the moment, and the State resembles
an agitated pendulum which swings from side to side for some time ere it
can acquire its due and perpendicular station. Or it might be likened to
a storm or hurricane, which, passing over a region, does great damage in
its passage, yet sweeps away stagnant and unwholesome vapours, and
repays, in future health and fertility, its immediate desolation and
ravage."
The Earl shook his head; but having neither spirit nor inclination for
debate, he suffered the argument to pass uncontested.
This discussion served to introduce the young soldier's experiences; and
he spoke of the actions in which he, had been engaged, with modesty, and
at the same time with an air of spirit and zeal which delighted the Earl,
who had been bred up, like others of his house, in the opinion that the
trade of arms was the first duty of man, and believed that to employ them
against the French was a sort of holy warfare.
"What would I give," said he apart to Oldbuck, as they rose to join the
ladies in the drawing-room, "what would I give to have a son of such
spirit as that young gentleman! - He wants something of address and
manner, something of polish, which mixing in good society would soon give
him; but with what zeal and animation he expresses himself - how fond of
his profession - how loud in the praise of others - how modest when
speaking of himself!"
"Hector is much obliged to you, my lord," replied his uncle, gratified,
yet not so much so as to suppress his consciousness of his own mental
superiority over the young soldier; "I believe in my heart nobody ever
spoke half so much good of him before, except perhaps the sergeant of his
company, when was wheedling a Highland recruit to enlist with him. He is
a good lad notwithstanding, although he be not quite the hero your
lordship supposes him, and although my commendations rather attest the
kindness than the vivacity of his character. In fact, his high spirit is
a sort of constitutional vehemence, which attends him in everything he
sets about, and is often very inconvenient to his friends. I saw him
to-day engage in an animated contest with a _phoca,_ or seal (_sealgh,_
our people more properly call them, retaining the Gothic guttural _gh_),
with as much vehemence as if he had fought against Dumourier - Marry, my
lord, the _phoca_ had the better, as the said Dumourier had of some other
folks. And he'll talk with equal if not superior rapture of the good
behaviour of a pointer bitch, as of the plan of a campaign."
"He shall have full permission to sport over my grounds," said the Earl,
"if he is so fond of that exercise."
"You will bind him to you, my lord," said Monkbarns, "body and soul: give
him leave to crack off his birding-piece at a poor covey of partridges or
moor-fowl, and he's yours for ever - I will enchant him by the
intelligence. But O, my lord, that you could have seen my phoenix Lovel!
- the very prince and chieftain of the youth of this age; and not
destitute of spirit neither - I promise you he gave my termagant kinsman a
_quid pro quo_ - a Rowland for his Oliver, as the vulgar say, alluding to
the two celebrated Paladins of Charlemagne."
After coffee, Lord Glenallan requested a private interview with the
Antiquary, and was ushered to his library.
"I must withdraw you from your own amiable family," he said, "to involve
you in the perplexities of an unhappy man. You are acquainted with the
world, from which I have long been banished; for Glenallan House has been
to me rather a prison than a dwelling, although a prison which I had
neither fortitude nor spirit to break from."
"Let me first ask your lordship," said the Antiquary, "what are your own
wishes and designs in this matter?"
"I wish most especially," answered Lord Glenallan, "to declare my
luckless marriage, and to vindicate the reputation of the unhappy
Eveline - that is, if you see a possibility of doing so without making
public the conduct of my mother."
"_Suum cuique tribuito,_" said the Antiquary; "do right to everyone. The
memory of that unhappy young lady has too long suffered, and I think it
might be cleared without further impeaching that of your mother, than by
letting it be understood in general that she greatly disapproved and
bitterly opposed the match. All - forgive me, my lord - all who ever heard
of the late Countess of Glenallan, will learn that without much
surprise."
"But you forget one horrible circumstance, Mr. Oldbuck," said the Earl,
in an agitated voice.
"I am not aware of it," replied the Antiquary.
"The fate of the infant - its disappearance with the confidential
attendant of my mother, and the dreadful surmises which may be drawn from
my conversation with Elspeth."
"If you would have my free opinion, my lord," answered Mr. Oldbuck, "and
will not catch too rapidly at it as matter of hope, I would say that it
is very possible the child yet lives. For thus much I ascertained, by my
former inquiries concerning the event of that deplorable evening, that a
child and woman were carried that night from the cottage at the
Craigburnfoot in a carriage and four by your brother Edward Geraldin
Neville, whose journey towards England with these companions I traced for
several stages. I believed then it was a part of the family compact to
carry a child whom you meant to stigmatize with illegitimacy, out of that
country where chance might have raised protectors and proofs of its
rights. But I now think that your brother, having reason, like yourself,
to believe the child stained with shame yet more indelible, had
nevertheless withdrawn it, partly from regard to the honour of his house,
partly from the risk to which it might have been exposed in the
neighbourhood of the Lady Glenallan."
As he spoke, the Earl of Glenallan grew extremely pale, and had nearly
fallen from his chair. - The alarmed Antiquary ran hither and thither
looking for remedies; but his museum, though sufficiently well filled
with a vast variety of useless matters, contained nothing that could be
serviceable on the present or any other occasion. As he posted out of the
room to borrow his sister's salts, he could not help giving a
constitutional growl of chagrin and wonder at the various incidents which
had converted his mansion, first into an hospital for a wounded duellist,
and now into the sick chamber of a dying nobleman. "And yet," said he, "I
have always kept aloof from the soldiery and the peerage. My
_coenobitium_ has only next to be made a lying-in hospital, and then, I
trow, the transformation will be complete."
When he returned with the remedy, Lord Glenallan was much better. The new
and unexpected light which Mr. Oldbuck had thrown upon the melancholy
history of his family had almost overpowered him. "You think, then, Mr.
Oldbuck - for you are capable of thinking, which I am not - you think,
then, that it is possible - that is, not impossible - my child may yet
live?"
"I think," said the Antiquary, "it is impossible that it could come to
any violent harm through your brother's means. He was known to be a gay
and dissipated man, but not cruel nor dishonourable; nor is it possible,
that, if he had intended any foul play, he would have placed himself so
forward in the charge of the infant, as I will prove to your lordship he
did."
So saying, Mr. Oldbuck opened a drawer of the cabinet of his ancestor
Aldobrand, and produced a bundle of papers tied with a black ribband, and
labelled, - Examinations, etc., taken by Jonathan Oldbuck, J. P., upon the
18th of February, 17 - ; a little under was written, in a small hand,
_Eheu Evelina_! The tears dropped fast from the Earl's eyes, as he
endeavoured, in vain, to unfasten the knot which secured these documents.
"Your lordship," said Mr. Oldbuck, "had better not read these at present.
Agitated as you are, and having much business before you, you must not
exhaust your strength. Your brother's succession is now, I presume, your
own, and it will be easy for you to make inquiry among his servants and
retainers, so as to hear where the child is, if, fortunately, it shall be
still alive."
"I dare hardly hope it," said the Earl, with a deep sigh. "Why should my
brother have been silent to me?"
"Nay, my lord, why should he have communicated to your lordship the
existence of a being whom you must have supposed the offspring of" -
"Most true - there is an obvious and a kind reason for his being silent.
If anything, indeed, could have added to the horror of the ghastly dream
that has poisoned my whole existence, it must have been the knowledge
that such a child of misery existed."
"Then," continued the Antiquary, "although it would be rash to conclude,
at the distance of more than twenty years, that your son must needs be
still alive because he was not destroyed in infancy, I own I think you
should instantly set on foot inquiries."
"It shall be done," replied Lord Glenallan, catching eagerly at the hope
held out to him, the first he had nourished for many years; - "I will
write to a faithful steward of my father, who acted in the same capacity
under my brother Neville - But, Mr. Oldbuck, I am not my brother's heir."
"Indeed! - I am sorry for that, my lord - it is a noble estate, and the
ruins of the old castle of Neville's-Burgh alone, which are the most
superb relics of Anglo-Norman architecture in that part of the country,
are a possession much to be coveted. I thought your father had no other
son or near relative."
"He had not, Mr. Oldbuck," replied Lord Glenallan; "but my brother
adopted views in politics, and a form of religion, alien from those which
had been always held by our house. Our tempers had long differed, nor did
my unhappy mother always think him sufficiently observant to her. In
short, there was a family quarrel, and my brother, whose property was at
his own free disposal, availed himself of the power vested in him to
choose a stranger for his heir. It is a matter which never struck me as
being of the least consequence - for if worldly possessions could
alleviate misery, I have enough and to spare. But now I shall regret it,
if it throws any difficulty in the way of our inquiries - and I bethink me
that it may; for in case of my having a lawful son of my body, and my
brother dying without issue, my father's possessions stood entailed upon
my son. It is not therefore likely that this heir, be he who he may, will
afford us assistance in making a discovery which may turn out so much to
his own prejudice."
"And in all probability the steward your lordship mentions is also in his
service," said the Antiquary.
"It is most likely; and the man being a Protestant - how far it is safe to
entrust him" -
"I should hope, my lord," said Oldbuck gravely, "that a Protestant may be
as trustworthy as a Catholic. I am doubly interested in the Protestant
faith, my lord. My ancestor, Aldobrand Oldenbuck, printed the celebrated
Confession of Augsburg, as I can show by the original edition now in this
house."
"I have not the least doubt of what you say, Mr. Oldbuck," replied the
Earl, "nor do I speak out of bigotry or intolerance; but probably the
Protestant steward will favour the Protestant heir rather than the
Catholic - if, indeed, my son has been bred in his father's faith - or,
alas! if indeed he yet lives."
"We must look close into this," said Oldbuck, "before committing
ourselves. I have a literary friend at York, with whom I have long
corresponded on the subject of the Saxon horn that is preserved in the
Minster there; we interchanged letters for six years, and have only as
yet been able to settle the first line of the inscription. I will write
forthwith to this gentleman, Dr. Dryasdust, and be particular in my
inquiries concerning the character, etc., of your brother's heir, of the
gentleman employed in his affairs, and what else may be likely to further
your lordship's inquiries. In the meantime your lordship will collect the
evidence of the marriage, which I hope can still be recovered?"
"Unquestionably," replied the Earl: "the witnesses, who were formerly
withdrawn from your research, are still living. My tutor, who solemnized
the marriage, was provided for by a living in France, and has lately
returned to this country as an emigrant, a victim of his zeal for
loyalty, legitimacy, and religion."
"That's one lucky consequence of the French, revolution, my lord - you