# Guy Mannering/Volume 3/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII.
———It is not madness That I have utter'd; bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word; which madness Would gambol from.
Hamlet.
As Mr. Sampson crossed the hall with a bewildered look, the good housekeeper, who was on the watch for his return, sallied forth upon him—"What's this o't now, Mr Sampson, this is waur than ever—ye'll really do yoursell some injury wi' these lang fasts—naething sae hurtful to the stomach, Mr. Sampson—if you would but put some peppermint draps in your pocket, or let Barnes cut you a sandwich."
"Avoid thee!" quoth the Dominie, his mind running still upon his interview with ​Meg Merrilies, and making for the dining parlour.
"Na, ye need na gang in there, the cloth's been removed an hour ago, and the Colonel's at his wine; but just step into my room, I have a nice staik that the cook will do in a moment."
"Exorcizo te!" said Sampson,—"that is, I have dined."
"Dined! it's impossible—wha can ye hae dined wi', you that gangs aut nae gate?"
"With Beelzebub, I believe," said the minister.
"Na, then he's bewitched for certain," said the housekeeper, letting go her hold; "he's bewitched, or he's daft, and ony way the Colonel maun just guide him his ain gate—Waes me! Hech, sirs! It's a sair thing to see learning bring folk to this!" and with this compassionate ejaculation, she retreated into her own premises.
The object of her commiseration had ​by this time entered the dining parlour, where his appearance gave great surprise. He was mud up to the shoulders, and the natural paleness of his hue was twice as cadaverous as usual, through terror, fatigue, and perturbation of mind. "What on earth is the meaning of this, Mr. Sampson?" said Mannering, who observed Miss Bertram looking much alarmed for her simple but attached friend.
"Exorciso,"—said the Dominie.
"How sir?"
"I crave pardon, honourable sir! but my wits"——
"Are gone a wool-gathering, I think—pray, Mr. Sampson, collect yourself, and let me know the meaning of all this."
Sampson was about to reply, but finding his Latin formula of exorcism still came most readily to his tongue, he prudently desisted from the attempt, and put the scrap of paper which he had received from the gypsey into Mannering's hand, who broke the seal and read it with ​surprise. "This seems to be some jest," he said, "and a very dull one."
"It came from no jesting person," said Mr. Sampson.
"From whom then did it come?"
The Dominie, who often displayed some delicacy of recollection in cases where Miss Bertram had an interest, recollected the painful circumstances connected with Meg Merrilies, looked at the young ladies, and remained silent. "We will join you at the tea-table in an instant, Julia; I see that Mr. Sampson wishes to speak to me alone.—And now they are gone, what, in Heaven's name, is the meaning of this?"
"It may be a message from Heaven," said the Dominie, "but it came by Beelzebub's postmistress. It was that witch, Meg Merrilies, who should have been burned with a tar-barrel twenty years since, for a harlot, thief, witch, and gypsey."
"Are you sure it was she?" said the Colonel with great interest.
​"Sure, honoured sir? the like o' Meg Merrilies is not to be seen in any land."
The Colonel paced the room rapidly, cogitating with himself. "To send out to apprehend her—but it is too distant to send to Mac-Morlan, and Sir Robert Hazlewood is a pompous coxcomb; besides the chance of not finding her upon the spot, and the humour of silence that seized her before may again return;—no, I will not, to save being thought a fool, neglect the course she points out. Many of her class set out by being impostors, and end by being enthusiasts, or hold a kind of darkling conduct between both lines, unconscious almost when they are cheating themselves or when imposing on others.—Well, my course is a plain one at any rate; and if my efforts are fruitless, it shall not be owing to over-jealousy of my own character for wisdom."
With this he rung the bell, and ordering Barnes into his private sitting-room, gave him some orders, with the result of ​which the reader may be made hereafter acquainted. We must now take up another adventure, which is also to be woven into the story of this remarkable day.
Charles Hazlewood had not ventured to make a visit at Woodbourne during the absence of the Colonel. Indeed, Mannering's whole behaviour had impressed upon him an opinion that this would be disagreeable; and such was the ascendence which the successful soldier and accomplished gentleman had attained over his conduct, that in no respect would he have ventured to offend him. He saw, or thought he saw, in Colonel Mannering's general conduct, an approbation of his attachment to Miss Bertram. But then he saw still more plainly the impropriety of any attempt at a private correspondence, of which his parents could not be supposed to approve, and he respected this barrier interposed betwixt them, both on Mannering's account, and as he was the liberal and zealous protector of Miss Bertram. ​"No," said he to himself, "I will not endanger the comfort of my Lucy's present retreat until I can offer her a home of her own."
With this valorous resolution, which he maintained, although his horse, from constant habit, turned his head down the avenue of Woodbourne, and although he himself passed the lodge twice every day, he withstood a strong inclination to ride down, just to ask how the young ladies were, and whether he could be of any service to them during Colonel Mannering's absence. But upon the second occasion, he felt the temptation so severe, that he resolved not to expose himself to it a third time; and, contenting himself with sending hopes and enquiries, and so forth, to Woodbourne, he resolved to make a visit long promised to a family at some distance, and to return in such time as to be one of the earliest among Mannering's visitors, who should congratulate his safe return from his distant and hazardous expedition to Edinburgh. Accordingly, he made out ​his visit, and having arranged matters so as to be informed within a few hours after Colonel Mannering reached Woodbourne, he fixed to take leave of the friends with whom he had spent the intervening time, with the intention of dining at Woodbourne, where he was in a great measure domesticated; and this (for he thought much more deeply on the subject than was necessary) would, he flattered himself, appear a simple, natural, and easy mode of conducting himself.
Fate, however, of which lovers make so many complaints, was, in this case, unfavourable to Charles Hazlewood. His horse's shoes required an alteration, in consequence of the fresh weather having decidedly commenced. The lady of the house, where he was a visitor, chose to indulge in her own room till a very late breakfast hour. His friend also insisted on showing him a litter of puppies, which his favourite pointer bitch had produced that morning. The colours had ​occasioned some doubts about the paternity, a weighty question of legitimacy, to the decision of which Hazlewood's opinion was called in as arbiter between his friend and his groom, and which inferred in its consequences, which of the litter should be drowned, which saved. Besides, the Laird himself delayed our young lovers departure for a considerable time, endeavouring, with long and superfluous rhetoric, to insinuate to Sir Robert Hazlewood, through the medium of his son, his own particular ideas respecting the line of a meditated turnpike road. It is greatly to the shame of our young lover's apprehension, that after the tenth reiterated account of the matter, he could not see the advantage to be obtained by the proposed road passing over the Lang-hirst, Windy-knowe, the Goodhouse-park, Hailziecroft, and then crossing the river at Simon's pool, and so by the road to Kippletringan; and the less eligible line pointed out by the English ​surveyor, which would go clear through the main inclosures at Hazlewood, and cut within a mile, or nearly so, of the house itself, destroying the privacy and pleasure, as his informer contended, of the ground.
In short, the adviser (whose actual interest was to have the bridge built as near as possible to a farm of his own) failed in every effort to attract young Hazlewood's attention, until he mentioned by chance, that the proposed line was favoured by that "fellow Glossin," who pretended to take a lead in the county. On a sudden young Hazlewood became attentive and interested; and having satisfied himself which was the line that Glossin patronized, assured his friend it should not be his fault if his father did not countenance any other instead of that. But these various interruptions consumed the morning. Hazlewood got on horseback at least three hours later than he intended, and, cursing fine ladies, pointers, puppies, and turnpike ​acts of parliament, saw himself detained beyond the time when he could, with propriety, intrude upon the family at Woodbourne.
He had passed, therefore, the turn of the road which led to that mansion, only edified by the distant appearance of the blue smoke, curling against the pale sky of the winter evening, when he thought he beheld the Dominie taking a foot-path for the house through the woods. He called after him, but in vain; for that honest gentleman, never the most susceptible of extraneous impressions, had just that moment parted from Meg Merrilies, and was too deeply wrapt up in pondering upon her vaticinations, to make any answer to Hazlewood's call. He was, therefore, obliged to let him proceed without enquiry after the health of the young ladies, or any other fishing question, to which he might, by good chance, have had an answer returned wherein Miss Bertram's name might have been mentioned. ​All cause for haste was therefore now over, and slacking the reins upon his horse's neck, he permitted him to ascend at his own leisure the steep sandy track between two high banks, which, ascending to a considerable height, commanded, at length, an extensive view of the neighbouring country. Hazlewood was, however, so far from eagerly looking forward to this prospect, though it had the recommendation, that great part of the land was his father's, and must necessarily be his own, that his head still turned towards the chimneys of Woodbourne, although at every step his horse made the difficulty of directing his eyes in that direction become greater. From the reverie in which he was sunk, he was suddenly roused by a voice too harsh to be called female, yet too shrill for a man;—"What's kept ye on the road sae lang? maun ither folk do your wark?"
He looked up; the spokes-woman was very tall, had a voluminous handkerchief rolled round her head, her grizzled hair ​flowing in elf-locks from beneath it, a long red cloak, and a staff in her hand, headed with a sort of spear point—it was, in short, Meg Merrilies. Hazlewood had never seen this remarkable figure before; he drew up his reins in astonishment at her appearance, and made a full stop. "I think," continued she, "they that hae ta'en interest in the house of Ellangowan suld sleep nane this night; three men hae been seeking ye, and you are gaun hame to sleep in your bed—d'ye think if the lad-bairn fa's the sister will do weel? na, na!"
"I don't understand you, good woman," said Hazlewood: "If you mean Miss——I mean any of the late Ellangowan family, tell me what I can do for them."
"Of the late Ellangowan family?" she answered with great vehemence, "of the late Ellangowan family! and when was there ever, or when will there ever be a family of Ellangowan, but bearing the gallant name of the bauld Bertrams?"
​"But what do you mean, good woman?"
"I am nae good woman—a' the country kens I am bad eneugh, and may be sorry eneugh that I am nae better. But I can do what good women canna, and darena do. I can do what would freeze the blood o' them that is bred in biggit wa's for naething but to bind bairns' heads, and to hap them in the cradle. Hear me—the guard's drawn off at the custom-house at Portanferry, and it's brought up to Hazlewood-house by your father's orders, because he thinks his house is to be attacked this night by the smugglers;—there's naebody means to touch his house; he has gude blood and gentle blood—I say little o' him for himsell, but there's naebody thinks him worth meddling wi'. Send the horsemen back to their post, cannily and quietly—see an' they winna hae wark the night—aye will they—the guns will flash and the swords will glitter in the braw moon."
"Good God! what do you mean? your words and manner would persuade me you ​are mad, and yet there is a strange combination in what you say."
"I am not mad! I have been imprisoned for mad—scourged for mad—banished for mad—but mad I am not. Hear ye, Charles Hazlewood of Hazlewood; d'ye bear malice against him that wounded you?"
"No, dame, God forbid; my arm is quite well, and I have always said the shot was discharged by accident. I should be glad to tell the young man so."
"Then do what I bid ye, and ye'll do him mair gude than ever he did you ill; for if he was left to his ill-wishers he would be a bloody corpse ere morn, or a banished man—but there's ane abunea'.—Do as I bid you, send back the soldiers. There's nae mair fear o' Hazlewood-house than there's o' Cruffell-fell." And she vanished with her usual celerity of pace.
It would seem that the appearance of this female, and the mixture of frenzy and enthusiasm in her address, seldom failed ​to produce the strongest impression upon those whom she addressed. Her words, though wild, were too plain and intelligible for actual madness, and yet too vehement and extravagant for sober-minded communication. She seemed acting under the influence of an imagination rather strongly excited than deranged; and it is wonderful how palpably the difference, in such cases, is impressed upon the mind of the auditor. This may account for the attention with which her strange and mysterious hints were heard and acted upon. It is certain, at least, that young Hazlewood was strongly impressed by her sudden appearance and imperative tone. He rode to Hazlewood at a brisk pace. It had been dark for some time before he reached the house, and on his arrival there, he saw a confirmation of what the sybil had hinted.
Thirty dragoon horses stood under a shed near the offices, with their bridles linked together. Three or four soldiers attended as a guard, while others stamped ​Up and down with their long broad swords and heavy boots in front of the house. Hazlewood asked a non-commissioned officer from whence they came? "From Portanferry."
"Had they left any guard there?"
"No; they had been drawn off by order of Sir Robert Hazlewood for defence of his house, against an attack which was threatened by the smugglers."
Charles Hazlewood instantly went in quest of his father, and, having paid his respects to him upon his return, requested to know upon what account he had thought it necessary to send for a military escort. Sir Robert assured his son in reply, that from the information, intelligence, and tidings, which had been communicated to, and laid before him, he had the deepest reason to believe, credit, and be convinced, that a riotous assault would that night be attempted and perpetrated against Hazlewood-house, by a set of ​shuigglers, gypsies, and other desperadoes, "And what, my dear sir, should direct the fury of such persons against ours rather than any other house in the country?"
"I should rather think, suppose, and be of opinion, sir," answered Sir Robert, "with deference to your wisdom and experience, that upon these occasions and times, the vengeance of such persons is directed or levelled against the most important and distinguished in point of rank, talent, birth, and situation, who have checked, interfered with, and discountenanced their unlawful and illegal and criminal actions or deeds."
Young Hazlewood, who knew his father's foible, answered, that the cause of his surprise did not lie where Sir Robert apprehended, but that he only wondered they should think of attacking a house where there were so many servants, and where a signal to the neighbouring tenants could call in such strong ​assistance; and added, that he doubted much whether the reputation of the family would not in some degree suffer from calling soldiers from their duty at the custom house, to protect them, as if they were not sufficiently strong to defend themselves upon any ordinary occasion. He even hinted, that in case their house's enemies should observe that this precaution had been taken unnecessarily, there would be no end of their sarcasms.
Sir Robert Hazlewood was rather puzzled at this intimation, for, like most dull men, he heartily hated and feared ridicule. He gathered himself up, and looked with a sort of pompous embarrassment, as if he wished to be thought to despise the opinion of the public, which in reality he dreaded.
"I really should have thought," he said, "that the injury which had already been aimed at my house in your person, being the next heir and representative of the ​Hazlewood family, failing me—I should have thought and believed, I say, that this would have justified me sufficiently in the eyes of the most respectable and greatest part of the people, for taking such precautions as are calculated to prevent and impede a repetition of outrage."
"Really, sir, I must remind you of what I have often said before, that I am positive the discharge of the piece was accidental."
"Sir, it was not accidental; but you will be wiser than your elders."
"Really, sir, in what so intimately concerns myself"——
"Sir, it does not concern you but in a very secondary degree—that is, it does not concern you, as a giddy young fellow, who takes pleasure in contradicting his father; but it concerns the country, sir; and the county, sir; and the public, sir; and the kingdom of Scotland, in so far as the interest of the Hazlewood family, sir, is ​committed, and interested, and put in peril, in, by, and through you, sir. And the fellow is in safe custody, and Mr. Glossin thinks"——
"Mr. Glossin, sir?"
"Yes, sir, the gentleman who has purchased Ellangowan—you know who I mean, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir; but I should hardly have expected to hear you quote such authority. Why, this fellow—all the world knows him to be sordid, mean, tricking, and I suspect him to be worse. And you yourself, my dear sir, when did you call such a person a gentleman in your life before?"
"Why, Charles, I did not mean gentleman in the precise sense and meaning, and restricted and proper use, to which, no doubt, it ought legitimately to be confined; but I meant to use it relatively, as marking something of that state to which he has elevated and raised himself—as ​designing, in short, a decent and wealthy and estimable sort of person."
"Allow me to ask, sir, if it was by this man's orders that the guard was drawn from Portanferry?"
"Sir, I do apprehend that Mr. Glossin would not presume to give orders, or even an opinion, unless asked, in a matter in which Hazlewood-house and the house of Hazlewood—meaning by the one this mansion-house of my family, and by the other typically, metaphorically, and parabolically, the family itself—I say then where the house of Hazlewood, or Hazlewood-house, were so immediately concerned"——
"I presume, however, sir, he approved of the proposal?"
"Sir, I thought it decent and right and proper to consult him as the nearest magistrate, as soon as report of the intended outrage reached my ears; and although he declined, out of deference and respect, as became our relative situations, to concur ​in the order, yet he did entirely approve of my arrangement."
At this moment a horse's feet were heard coming very fast up the avenue. In a few minutes the door opened, and Mr Mac-Morlan presented himself. "I am under great concern to intrude, Sir Robert, but"——
"Give me leave, Mr Mac-Morlan,—this is no intrusion, sir; for your situation as sheriff-substitute calling upon you to attend to the peace of the county, (and, doubtless, feeling yourself particularly called upon to protect Hazlewood-house,) you have an acknowledged, and admitted, and undeniable right, sir, to enter the house of the first gentleman in Scotland, uninvited—always presuming you to be called there by the duty of your office."
"It is indeed the duty of my office," said Mac-Morlan, who waited with impatience an opportunity to speak, "that makes me an intruder."
​"No intrusion!" reiterated the Baronet, gracefully waving his hand.
"But permit me to say, Sir Robert, I do not come with the purpose of remaining here, but to recall these soldiers to Portanferry, and to assure you that I will answer for the safety of your house."
"To withdraw the guard from Hazlewood-house?—and you will be answerable for it! And, pray, who are you, sir, that I should take your security, and caution, and pledge, official or personal, for the safety of Hazlewood-house?—I think, sir, and believe, sir, and am of opinion, sir, that if any one of these family pictures were deranged, or destroyed, or injured, it would be difficult for me to make up the loss upon the guarantee which you so obligingly offer me."
"In that case I shall be sorry for it, Sir Robert; but I presume I may escape the pain of feeling my conduct the cause of such irreparable loss, as I can assure you there will be no attempt upon ​Hazlewood-house whatever, and I have received information which induces me to suspect that the rumour was put afloat merely in order to occasion the removal of the soldiers from Portanferry. And under this strong belief and conviction I must exert my authority to order the whole, or greater part of them, back again I regret much, that by my accidental absence a good deal of delay has already taken place, and we shall not now reach Portanferry until it is late."
As Mr. Mac-Morlan was the superior magistrate, and expressed himself peremptory in the purpose of acting as such, the Baronet, though highly offended, could only say, "Very well, sir, it is very well. Nay, sir, take them all with you—I am far from desiring any to be left here, sir. We, sir, can protect ourselves, sir. But you will have the goodness to observe, sir, that you are acting on your own proper risque, sir, and peril, sir, and responsibility, sir, if any thing shall happen or befall to ​Hazlewood-house, sir, or the inhabitants, sir, or to the furniture and paintings, sir."
"I am acting to the best of my judgement and information, Sir Robert, and I must pray of you to believe so, and to pardon me accordingly. I beg you to observe it is no time for ceremony—it is already very late."
But Sir Robert, without deigning to listen to his apologies, immediately employed himself in arming and arraying his domestics. Charles Hazlewood longed to accompany the military, which was about to depart for Portanferry, and which was now drawn up and mounted by direction and under guidance of Mr Mac-Morlan, as the civil magistrate. But it would have given pain and offence to his father to have left him at a moment when he conceived himself beset with enemies. Young Hazlewood therefore gazed from a window with suppressed regret and displeasure, until he heard the officer give the word of command—"From the right to the front, by ​files, ma-a-arch. Leading file, to the right wheel—Trot."—The whole party then getting into a sharp and uniform pace, were soon lost among the trees, and the noise of their hoofs died speedily away in the distance.