The Bride of Lammermoor, Walter Scott [superbooks4u .txt] 📗

from what might be expected from them in future. The writer stuck to the contents of his feu-charters; he could not see it: ’twas not in the bond. And when Caleb, determined to try what a little spirit would do, deprecated the consequences of Lord Ravenswood’s withdrawing his protection from the burgh, and even hinted in his using active measures of resentment, the man of law sneered in his face.

“His clients,” he said, “had determined to do the best they could for their own town, and he thought Lord Ravenswood, since he was a lord, might have enough to do to look after his own castle. As to any threats of stouthrief oppression, by rule of thumb, or via facti, as the law termed it, he would have Mr. Balderstone recollect, that new times were not as old times; that they lived on the south of the Forth, and far from the Highlands; that his clients thought they were able to protect themselves; but should they find themselves mistaken, they would apply to the government for the protection of a corporal and four red-coats, who,” said Mr. Dingwall, with a grin, “would be perfectly able to secure them against Lord Ravenswood, and all that he or his followers could do by the strong hand.”

If Caleb could have concentrated all the lightnings of aristocracy in his eye, to have struck dead this contemner of allegiance and privilege, he would have launched them at his head, without respect to the consequences. As it was, he was compelled to turn his course backward to the castle; and there he remained for full half a day invisible and inaccessible even to Mysie, sequestered in his own peculiar dungeon, where he sat burnishing a single pewter plate and whistling “Maggie Lauder” six hours without intermission.

The issue of this unfortunate requisition had shut against Caleb all resources which could be derived from Wolf’s Hope and its purlieus, the El Dorado, or Peru, from which, in all former cases of exigence, he had been able to extract some assistance. He had, indeed, in a manner vowed that the deil should have him, if ever he put the print of his foot within its causeway again. He had hitherto kept his word; and, strange to tell, this secession had, as he intended, in some degree, the effect of a punishment upon the refractory feuars. Mr. Balderstone had been a person in their eyes connected with a superior order of beings, whose presence used to grace their little festivities, whose advice they found useful on many occasions, and whose communications gave a sort of credit to their village. The place, they acknowledged, “didna look as it used to do, and should do, since Mr. Caleb keepit the castle sae closely; but doubtless, touching the eggs and butter, it was a most unreasonable demand, as Mr. Dingwall had justly made manifest.”

Thus stood matters betwixt the parties, when the old butler, though it was gall and wormwood to him, found himself obliged either to ackowledge before a strange man of quality, and, what was much worse, before that stranger’s servant, the total inability of Wolf’s Crag to produce a dinner, or he must trust to the compassion of the feuars of Wolf’s Hope. It was a dreadful degradation; but necessity was equally imperious and lawless. With these feelings he entered the street of the village.

Willing to shake himself from his companion as soon as possible, he directed Mr. Lockhard to Luckie Sma-trash’s change-house, where a din, proceeding from the revels of Bucklaw, Craigengelt, and their party, sounded half-way down the street, while the red glare from the window overpowered the grey twilight which was now settling down, and glimmered against a parcel of old tubs, kegs, and barrels, piled up in the cooper’s yard, on the other side of the way.

“If you, Mr. Lockhard,” said the old butler to his companion, “will be pleased to step to the change-house where that light comes from, and where, as I judge, they are now singing ‘Cauld Kail in Aberdeen,’ ye may do your master’s errand about the venison, and I will do mine about Bucklaw’s bed, as I return frae getting the rest of the vivers. It’s no that the venison is actually needfu’,” he added, detaining his colleague by the button, “to make up the dinner; but as a compliment to the hunters, ye ken; and, Mr. Lockhard, if they offer ye a drink o’ yill, or a cup o’ wine, or a glass o’ brandy, ye’ll be a wise man to take it, in case the thunner should hae soured ours at the castle, whilk is ower muckle to be dreaded.”

He then permitted Lockhard to depart; and with foot heavy as lead, and yet far lighter than his heart, stepped on through the unequal street of the straggling village, meditating on whom he ought to make his first attack. It was necessary he should find some one with whom old acknowledged greatness should weigh more than recent independence, and to whom his application might appear an act of high dignity, relenting at once and soothing. But he could not recollect an inhabitant of a mind so constructed. “Our kail is like to be cauld eneugh too,” he reflected, as the chorus of “Cauld Kail in Aberdeen” again reached his ears. The minister—he had got his presentation from the late lord, but they had quarrelled about teinds; the brewster’s wife—she had trusted long, and the bill was aye scored up, and unless the dignity of the family should actually require it, it would be a sin to distress a widow woman. None was so able—but, on the other hand, none was likely to be less willing—to stand his friend upon the present occasion, than Gibbie Girder, the man of tubs and barrels already mentioned, who had headed the insurrection in the matter of the egg and butter subsidy. “But a’ comes o’ taking folk on the right side, I trow,” quoted Caleb to himself; “and I had ance the ill hap to say he was but a Johnny New-come in our town, and the carle bore the family an ill-will ever since. But he married a bonny young quean, Jean Lightbody, auld Lightbody’s daughter, him that was in the steading of Loup-the-Dyke; and auld Lightbody was married himsell to Marion, that was about my lady in the family forty years syne. I hae had mony a day’s daffing wi’ Jean’s mither, and they say she bides on wi’ them. The carle has Jacobuses and Georgiuses baith, an ane could get at them; and sure I am, it’s doing him an honour him or his never deserved at our hand, the ungracious sumph; and if he loses by us a’thegither, he is e’en cheap o’t: he can spare it brawly.”

Shaking off irresolution, therefore, and turning at once upon his heel, Caleb walked hastily back to the cooper’s house, lifted the latch without ceremony, and, in a moment, found himself behind the hallan, or partition, from which position he could, himself unseen, reconnoitre the interior of the but, or kitchen apartment, of the mansion.

Reverse of the sad menage at the Castle of Wolf’s Crag, a bickering fire roared up the cooper’s chimney. His wife, on the one side, in her pearlings and pudding-sleeves, put the last finishing touch to her holiday’s apparel, while she contemplated a very handsome and good-humoured face in a broken mirror, raised upon the bink (the shelves on which the plates are disposed) for her special accommodation. Her mother, old Luckie Loup-the-Dyke, “a canty carline” as was within twenty miles of her, according to the unanimous report of the cummers, or gossips, sat by the fire in the full glory of a grogram gown, lammer beads, and a clean cockernony, whiffing a snug pipe of tobacco, and superintending the affairs of the kitchen; for—sight more interesting to the anxious heart and craving entrails of the desponding seneschal than either buxom dame or canty cummer—there bubbled on the aforesaid bickering fire a huge pot, or rather cauldron, steaming with beef and brewis; while before it revolved two spits, turned each by one of the cooper’s apprentices, seated in the opposite corners of the chimney, the one loaded with a quarter of mutton, while the other was graced with a fat goose and a brace of wild ducks. The sight and scent of such a land of plenty almost wholly overcame the drooping spirits of Caleb. He turned, for a moment’s space to reconnoitre the ben, or parlour end of the house, and there saw a sight scarce less affecting to his feelings—a large round table, covered for ten or twelve persons, decored (according to his own favourite terms) with napery as white as snow, grand flagons of pewter, intermixed with one or two silver cups, containing, as was probable, something worthy the brilliancy of their outward appearance, clean trenchers, cutty spoons, knives and forks, sharp, burnished, and prompt for action, which lay all displayed as for an especial festival.

“The devil’s in the peddling tub-coopering carl!” muttered Caleb, in all the envy of astonishment; “it’s a shame to see the like o’ them gusting their gabs at sic a rate. But if some o’ that gude cheer does not find its way to Wolf’s Crag this night, my name is not Caleb Balderstone.”

So resolving, he entered the apartment, and, in all courteous greeting, saluted both the mother and the daughter. Wolf’s Crag was the court of the barony, Caleb prime minister at Wolf’s Crag; and it has ever been remarked that, though the masculine subject who pays the taxes sometimes growls at the courtiers by whom they are imposed, the said courtiers continue, nevertheless, welcome to the fair sex, to whom they furnish the newest small-talk and the earliest fashions. Both the dames were, therefore, at once about old Caleb’s neck, setting up their throats together by way of welcome.

“Ay, sirs, Mr. Balderstone, and is this you? A sight of you is gude for sair een. Sit down—sit down; the gudeman will be blythe to see you—ye nar saw him sae cadgy in your life; but we are to christen our bit wean the night, as ye will hae heard, and doubtless ye will stay and see the ordinance. We hae killed a wether, and ane o’ our lads has been out wi’ his gun at the moss; ye used to like wild-fowl.”

“Na, na, gudewife,” said Caleb; “I just keekit in to wish ye joy, and I wad be glad to hae spoken wi’ the gudeman, but——” moving, as if to go away.

“The ne’er a fit ye’s gang,” said the elder dame, laughing and holding him fast, with a freedom which belonged to their old acquaintance; “wha kens what ill it may bring to the bairn, if ye owerlook it in that gate?”

“But I’m in a preceese hurry, gudewife,” said the butler, suffering himself to be dragged to a seat without much resistance; “and as to eating,” for he observed the mistress of the dwelling bustling about to place a trencher for him—“as for eating—lack-a-day, we are just killed up yonder wi’ eating frae morning to night! It’s shamefu’ epicurism; but that’s what we hae gotten frae the English pock-puddings.”

“Hout, never mind the English pock-puddings,” said Luckie Lightbody; “try our puddings, Mr. Balderstone; there is black pudding and white-hass; try whilk ye like best.”

“Baith gude—baith excellent—canna be better; but the very smell is eneugh for me that hae dined sae lately (the faithful wretch had fasted since daybreak). But I wanda affront your housewifeskep, gudewife; and, with your permission, I’se e’en pit them in my napkin, and eat them to my supper at e’en, for I am wearied of Mysie’s pastry and nonsense; ye ken landward dainties aye pleased me best, Marion, and landward lasses too (looking at the cooper’s wife). Ne’er a bit but she looks far better than when she married Gilbert, and then she was the bonniest lass in our parochine and the neist till’t. But gawsie cow, goodly calf.”

The women smiled at the compliment each to herself, and they smiled again to each other as Caleb wrapt up the puddings in a towel which he had brought with him, as a dragoon carries his foraging bag to receive what my fall in his way.

“And what news at the castle?” quo’ the gudewife.

“News! The bravest news ye ever heard—the Lord Keeper’s up yonder wi’ his fair daughter, just ready to fling her at my lord’s head, if he winna tak her out o’ his arms; and I’se warrant he’ll stitch our auld lands of Ravenswood to her petticoat tail.”

“Eh! sirs—ay!—and will hae her? and is she weel-favoured? and what’s the colour o’ her hair? and does she wear a habit or a railly?” were the questions which the females showered upon the butler.

“Hout tout! it wad tak a man a day to answer a’ your questions, and I hae