Rob Roy (10 page)

Read Rob Roy Online

Authors: Walter Scott

What could my father mean by sending me to be an inmate in this strange family? was my first and most natural reflection. My uncle, it was plain, received me as one who was to make some stay with him, and his rude hospitality rendered him as indifferent as King Hal to the number of those who fed at his cost. But it was plain my présence or absence would be of as little importance in his eyes as that of his blue-coated serving-men. My cousins were mere cubs, in whose company I might, if I liked it, unlearn whatever decent manners, or elegant accomplishments, I had acquired, but where I could attain no information beyond what regarded worming dogs, rowelling horses, and following foxes. I could only imagine one reason, which was probably the true one. My father considered the life which was led at Osbaldistone Hall as the natural and inevitable pursuits of all country gentlemen, and he was desirous, by giving me an opportunity of seeing that with which he knew I should be disgusted, to reconcile me, if possible, to take an active
share in his own business. In the meantime, he would take Rashleigh Osbaldistone into the counting-house. But he had an hundred modes of providing for him, and that advantageously, whenever he chose to get rid of him. So that, although I did feel a certain qualm of conscience at having been the means of introducing Rashleigh, being such as he was described by Miss Vernon, into my father's business—perhaps into his confidence—I subdued it by the reflection, that my father was complete master of his own affairs—a man not to be imposed upon, or influenced by any one, and that all I knew to the young gentleman's prejudice was through the medium of a singular and giddy girl, whose communications were made with an injudicious frankness, which might warrant me in supposing her conclusions had been hastily or inaccurately formed. Then my mind naturally turned to Miss Vernon herself; her extreme beauty; her very peculiar situation, relying solely upon her reflections, and her own spirit, for guidance and protection; and her whole character offering that variety and spirit which piques our curiosity, and engages our attention in spite of ourselves. I had sense enough to consider the neighbourhood of this singular young lady, and the chance of our being thrown into very close and frequent intercourse, as adding to the dangers, while it relieved the dulness, of Osbaldistone Hall; but I could not, with the fullest exertion of my prudence, prevail upon myself to regret excessively this new and particular hazard to which I was to be exposed. This scruple I also settled as young men settle most difficulties of the kind—I would be very cautious, always on my guard, consider Miss Vernon rather as a companion than an intimate; and all would do well enough. With these reflections I fell asleep, Miss Vernon, of course, forming the last subject of my contemplation.

Whether I dreamed of her or not, I cannot satisfy you,
for I was tired, and slept soundly. But she was the first person I thought of in the morning, when waked at dawn by the cheerful notes of the hunting-horn. To start up, and direct my horse to be saddled, was my first movement; and in a few minutes I was in the court-yard, where men, dogs, and horses were in full preparation. My uncle, who, perhaps, was not entitled to expect a very alert sportsman in his nephew, bred as he had been in foreign parts, seemed rather surprised to see me, and I thought his morning salutation wanted something of the hearty and hospitable tone which distinguished his first welcome. ‘Art there, lad?—ay, youth's aye rathe—but look to thysell—mind the old song, lad—

“He that gallops his horse on Blackstone edge

May chance to catch a fall.”'

I believe there are few young men, and those very sturdy moralists, who would not rather be taxed with some moral peccadillo than with want of knowledge in horsemanship. As I was by no means deficient either in skill or courage, I resented my uncle's insinuation accordingly, and assured him he would find me up with the hounds.

‘I doubtna, lad,' was his reply; ‘thou'rt a rank rider, I'se warrant thee—but take heed. Thy father sent thee here to me to be bitted, and I doubt I must ride thee on the curb, or we'll hae some one to ride thee on the halter, if I takena the better heed.'

As this speech was totally unintelligible to me; as, besides, it did not seem to be delivered for my use, or benefit, but was spoken as it were aside, and as if expressing aloud something which was passing through the mind of my much-honoured uncle, I concluded it must either refer to my desertion of the bottle on the preceding evening, or that my uncle's morning hours being a little discomposed by the
revels of the night before, his temper had suffered in proportion. I only made the passing reflection, that if he played the ungracious landlord, I would remain the shorter while his guest, and then hastened to salute Miss Vernon, who advanced cordially to meet me. Some show of greeting also passed between my cousins and me; but as I saw them maliciously bent upon criticizing my dress and accoutrements, from the cap to the stirrup-irons, and sneering at whatever had a new or foreign appearance, I exempted myself from the task of paying them much attention; and assuming, in requital of their grins and whispers, an air of the utmost indifference and contempt, I attached myself to Miss Vernon as the only person in the party whom I could regard as a suitable companion. By her side, therefore, we sallied forth to the destined cover, which was a dingle or copse on the side of an extensive common. As we rode thither, I observed to Diana, that I did not see my cousin Rashleigh in the field; to which she replied,—‘O no—he's a mighty hunter, but it's after the fashion of Nimrod, and his game is man.'

The dogs now brushed into the cover, with the appropriate encouragement from the hunters—all was business, bustle, and activity. My cousins were soon too much interested in the business of the morning to take any further notice of me, unless that I overheard Dickon the horse-jockey whisper to Wilfred the fool—‘Look thou, an our French cousin be nat off a' first burst.'

To which Wilfred answered, ‘Like enow, for he has a queer outlandish binding on's castor.'

Thorncliff, however, who, in his rude way, seemed not absolutely insensible to the beauty of his kinswoman, appeared determined to keep us company more closely than his brothers, perhaps to watch what passed betwixt Miss Vernon and me—perhaps to enjoy my expected mishaps in
the chase. In the last particular he was disappointed. After beating in vain for the greater part of the morning, a fox was at length found, who led us a chase of two hours, in the course of which, notwithstanding the ill-omened French binding upon my hat, I sustained my character as a horseman to the admiration of my uncle and Miss Vernon, and the secret disappointment of those who expected me to disgrace it. Reynard, however, proved too wily for his pursuers, and the hounds were at fault. I could at this time observe in Miss Vernon's manner an impatience of the close attendance which we received from Thorncliff Osbaldistone; and, as that active-spirited young lady never hesitated at taking the readiest means to gratify any wish of the moment, she said to him, in a tone of reproach—‘I wonder, Thornie, what keeps you dangling at my horse's crupper all this morning, when you know the earths above Woolverton-mill are not stopt.'

‘I know no such an thing then, Miss Die, for the miller swore himself as black as night, that he stopt them at twelve o'clock, midnight that was.'

‘O fie upon you, Thornie! would you trust to a miller's word?—and these earths, too, where we lost the fox three times this season, and you on your grey mare that can gallop there and back in ten minutes!'

‘Well, Miss Die, I'se go to Woolverton then, and if the earths are not stopt, I'se raddle Dick the miller's bones for him.'

‘Do, my dear Thornie; horsewhip the rascal to purpose—via—fly away, and about it;'—Thorncliff went off at the gallop—‘or get horsewhipt yourself, which will serve my purpose just as well.—I must teach them all discipline and obedience to the word of command. I am raising a regiment, you must know. Thornie shall be my serjeant-major, Dickon my riding-master, and Wilfred, with his deep dub-a-dub
tones, that speak but three syllables at a time, my kettle-drummer.'

‘And Rashleigh?'

‘Rashleigh shall be my scout-master.'

‘And will you find no employment for me, most lovely colonel?'

‘You shall have the choice of being paymaster, or plunder-master, to the corps. But see how the dogs puzzle about there. Come, Mr. Frank, the scent's cold; they won't recover it there this while; follow me, I have a view to show you.'

And, in fact, she cantered up to the top of a gentle hill, commanding an extensive prospect. Casting her eyes around, to see that no one was near us, she drew up her horse beneath a few birch-trees, which screened us from the rest of the hunting-field,—‘Do you see yon peaked, brown, heathy hill, having something like a whitish speck upon the side?'

‘Terminating that long ridge of broken moorish uplands?—I see it distinctly.'

‘That whitish speck is a rock called Hawkesmore-crag, and Hawkesmore-crag is in Scotland.'

‘Indeed! I did not think we had been so near Scotland.'

‘It is so, I assure you, and your horse will carry you there in two hours.'

‘I shall hardly give him the trouble; why, the distance must be eighteen miles as the crow flies.'

‘You may have my mare, if you think her less blown— I say, that in two hours you may be in Scotland.'

‘And I say, that I have so little desire to be there, that if my horse's head were over the Border, I would not give his tail the trouble of following. What should I do in Scotland?'

‘Provide for your safety, if I must speak plainly. Do you understand me now, Mr. Frank?'

‘Not a whit; you are more and more oracular.'

‘Then, on my word, you either mistrust me most unjustly, and are a better dissembler than Rashleigh Osbaldistone himself, or you know nothing of what is imputed to you; and then no wonder you stare at me in that grave manner, which I can scarce see without laughing.'

‘Upon my word of honour, Miss Vernon,' said I, with an impatient feeling of her childish disposition to mirth, ‘I have not the most distant conception of what you mean. I am happy to afford you any subject of amusement, but I am quite ignorant in what it consists.'

‘Nay, there's no sound jest after all,' said the young lady, composing herself, ‘only one looks so very ridiculous when he is fairly perplexed; but the matter is serious enough. Do you know one Moray, or Morris, or some such name?'

‘Not that I can at present recollect.'

‘Think a moment—Did you not lately travel with somebody of such a name?'

‘The only man with whom I travelled for any length of time was a fellow whose soul seemed to he in his portmanteau.'

‘Then it was like the soul of the licentiate Pedro Garcias, which lay among the ducats in his leathern purse. That man has been robbed, and he has lodged an information against you, as connected with the violence done to him.'

‘You jest, Miss Vernon!'

‘I do not, I assure you—the thing is an absolute fact.'

‘And do you,' said I, with strong indignation, which I did not attempt to suppress, ‘do you suppose me capable of meriting such a charge?'

‘You would call me out for it, I suppose, had I the advantage of being a man—You may do so as it is, if you like it,—I can shoot flying, as well as leap a five-barred gate.'

‘And are colonel of a regiment of horse besides,' replied
I, reflecting how idle it was to be angry with her—‘But do explain the present jest to me!'

‘There's no jest whatever,' said Diana; ‘you are accused of robbing this man, and my uncle believes it as well as I did.'

‘Upon my honour, I am greatly obliged to my friends for their good opinion!'

‘Now do not, if you can help it, snort, and stare, and snuff the wind, and look so exceedingly like a startled horse—There's no such offence as you suppose—you are not charged with any petty larceny, or vulgar felony—by no means. This fellow was carrying money from government, both specie and bills, to pay the troops in the north; and it is said he has been also robbed of some dispatches of great consequence.'

‘And so it is high treason, then, and not simple robbery, of which I am accused?'

‘Certainly; which, you know, has been in all ages accounted the crime of a gentleman. You will find plenty in this country, and one not far from your elbow, who think it a merit to distress the Hanoverian government by every means possible.'

‘Neither my politics nor my morals, Miss Vernon, are of a description so accommodating.'

‘I really begin to believe that you are a presbyterian and Hanoverian in good earnest. But what do you propose to do?'

‘Instantly to refute this atrocious calumny.—Before whom,' I asked, ‘was this extraordinary accusation laid?'

‘Before old Squire Inglewood, who had sufficient unwillingness to receive it. He sent tidings to my uncle, I suppose, that he might smuggle you away into Scotland, out of reach of the warrant. But my uncle is sensible that his religion and old predilections render him obnoxious to government, and
that, were he caught playing booty, he would be disarmed, and probably dismounted, (which would be the worse evil of the two,) as a jacobite, Papist, and the suspected person.'
1

‘I can conceive that, sooner than lose his hunters, he would give up his nephew.'

‘His nephew, nieces, sons—daughters, if he had them, and whole generation,' said Diana; ‘therefore trust not to him, even for a single moment, but make the best of your way before they can serve the warrant.'

‘That I shall certainly do; but it shall be to the house of this Squire Inglewood—Which way does it he?'

‘About five miles off, in the low ground, behind yonder plantations—you may see the tower of the clock-house.'

‘I will be there in a few minutes,' said I, putting my horse in motion.

Other books

Varangian (Aelfraed) by Hosker, Griff
KNOX: Volume 3 by Cassia Leo
Code 13 by Don Brown
Her First by Mckenzie, Diamond
Forsaken by Bec Botefuhr
Prochownik's Dream by Alex Miller
Zombie Fever: Origins by Hodges, B.M.
We Shall Rise by J.E. Hopkins