The Heart of Mid-Lothian, Volume 2 Read online

  CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.

  Did Fortune guide, Or rather Destiny, our bark, to which We could appoint no port, to this best place? Fletcher.

  The islands in the Firth of Clyde, which the daily passage of so manysmoke-pennoned steamboats now renders so easily accessible, were in ourfathers' times secluded spots, frequented by no travellers, and fewvisitants of any kind. They are of exquisite, yet varied beauty. Arran, amountainous region, or Alpine island, abounds with the grandest and mostromantic scenery. Bute is of a softer and more woodland character. TheCumbrays, as if to exhibit a contrast to both, are green, level, andbare, forming the links of a sort of natural bar which is drawn along themouth of the firth, leaving large intervals, however, of ocean.Roseneath, a smaller isle, lies much higher up the firth, and towards itswestern shore, near the opening of the lake called the Gare Loch, and notfar from Loch Long and Loch Scant, or the Holy Loch, which wind from themountains of the Western Highlands to join the estuary of the Clyde.

  In these isles the severe frost winds which tyrannise over the vegetablecreation during a Scottish spring, are comparatively little felt; nor,excepting the gigantic strength of Arran, are they much exposed to theAtlantic storms, lying landlocked and protected to the westward by theshores of Ayrshire. Accordingly, the weeping-willow, the weeping-birch,and other trees of early and pendulous shoots, flourish in these favouredrecesses in a degree unknown in our eastern districts; and the air isalso said to possess that mildness which is favourable to consumptivecases.

  The picturesque beauty of the island of Roseneath, in particular, hadsuch recommendations, that the Earls and Dukes of Argyle, from an earlyperiod, made it their occasional residence, and had their temporaryaccommodation in a fishing or hunting-lodge, which succeedingimprovements have since transformed into a palace. It was in its originalsimplicity when the little bark which we left traversing the firth at theend of lastCHAPTER approached the shores of the isle.

  When they touched the landing-place, which was partly shrouded by someold low but wide-spreading oak-trees, intermixed with hazel-bushes, twoor three figures were seen as if awaiting their arrival. To these Jeaniepaid little attention, so that it was with a shock of surprise almostelectrical, that, upon being carried by the rowers out of the boat to theshore, she was received in the arms of her father!

  It was too wonderful to be believed--too much like a happy dream to havethe stable feeling of reality--She extricated herself from his close andaffectionate embrace, and held him at arm's length, to satisfy her mindthat it was no illusion. But the form was indisputable--Douce David Deanshimself, in his best light-blue Sunday's coat, with broad metal buttons,and waistcoat and breeches of the same, his strong gramashes or legginsof thick grey cloth--the very copper buckles--the broad Lowland bluebonnet, thrown back as he lifted his eyes to Heaven in speechlessgratitude--the grey locks that straggled from beneath it down hisweather-beaten "haffets"--the bald and furrowed forehead--the clear blueeye, that, undimmed by years, gleamed bright and pale from under itsshaggy grey pent-house--the features, usually so stern and stoical, nowmelted into the unwonted expression of rapturous joy, affection, andgratitude--were all those of David Deans; and so happily did they assorttogether, that, should I ever again see my friends Wilkie or Allan, Iwill try to borrow or steal from them a sketch of this very scene.

  "Jeanie--my ain Jeanie--my best--my maist dutiful bairn--the Lord ofIsrael be thy father, for I am hardly worthy of thee! Thou hast redeemedour captivity--brought back the honour of our house--Bless thee, mybairn, with mercies promised and purchased! But He _has_ blessed thee, inthe good of which He has made thee the instrument."

  These words broke from him not without tears, though David was of nomelting mood. Archibald had, with delicate attention, withdrawn thespectators from the interview, so that the wood and setting sun alonewere witnesses of the expansion of their feelings.

  "And Effie?--and Effie, dear father?" was an eager interjectionalquestion which Jeanie repeatedly threw in among her expressions of joyfulthankfulness.

  "Ye will hear--Ye will hear," said David hastily, and over and anonrenewed his grateful acknowledgments to Heaven for sending Jeanie safedown from the land of prelatic deadness and schismatic heresy; and haddelivered her from the dangers of the way, and the lions that were in thepath.

  "And Effie?" repeated her affectionate sister again and again. "And--and"(fain would she have said Butler, but she modified the directinquiry)--"and Mr. and Mrs. Saddletree--and Dumbiedikes--and a' friends?"

  "A' weel--a' weel, praise to His name!"

  "And--Mr. Butler--he wasna weel when I gaed awa?"

  "He is quite mended--quite weel," replied her father.

  "Thank God--but O, dear father, Effie?--Effie?"

  "You will never see her mair, my bairn," answered Deans in a solemn tone--"You are the ae and only leaf left now on the auld tree--hale be yourportion!"

  "She is dead!--She is slain!--It has come ower late!" exclaimed Jeanie,wringing her hands.

  "No, Jeanie," returned Deans, in the same grave melancholy tone. "Shelives in the flesh, and is at freedom from earthly restraint, if she wereas much alive in faith, and as free from the bonds of Satan."

  "The Lord protect us!" said Jeanie.--"Can the unhappy bairn hae left youfor that villain?"

  "It is ower truly spoken," said Deans--"She has left her auld father,that has wept and prayed for her--She has left her sister, that travailedand toiled for her like a mother--She has left the bones of her mother,and the land of her people, and she is ower the march wi' that son ofBelial--She has made a moonlight flitting of it." He paused, for afeeling betwixt sorrow and strong resentment choked his utterance.

  "And wi' that man?--that fearfu' man?" said Jeanie. "And she has left usto gang aff wi' him?--O Effie, Effie, wha could hae thought it, after sica deliverance as you had been gifted wi'!"

  "She went out from us, my bairn, because she was not of us," repliedDavid. "She is a withered branch will never bear fruit of grace--ascapegoat gone forth into the wilderness of the world, to carry wi' her,as I trust, the sins of our little congregation. The peace of the warldgang wi' her, and a better peace when she has the grace to turn to it! Ifshe is of His elected, His ain hour will come. What would her mother havesaid, that famous and memorable matron, Rebecca MacNaught, whose memoryis like a flower of sweet savour in Newbattle, and a pot of frankincensein Lugton? But be it sae--let her part--let her gang her gate--let herbite on her ain bridle--The Lord kens his time--She was the bairn ofprayers, and may not prove an utter castaway. But never, Jeanie, nevermore let her name be spoken between you and me--She hath passed from uslike the brook which vanisheth when the summer waxeth warm, as patientJob saith--let her pass, and be forgotten."

  There was a melancholy pause which followed these expressions. Jeaniewould fain have asked more circumstances relating to her sister'sdeparture, but the tone of her father's prohibition was positive. She wasabout to mention her interview with Staunton at his father's rectory;but, on hastily running over the particulars in her memory, she thoughtthat, on the whole, they were more likely to aggravate than diminish hisdistress of mind. She turned, therefore, the discourse from this painfulsubject, resolving to suspend farther inquiry until she should seeButler, from whom she expected to learn the particulars of her sister'selopement.

  But when was she to see Butler? was a question she could not forbearasking herself, especially while her father, as if eager to escape fromthe subject of his youngest daughter, pointed to the opposite shore ofDumbartonshire, and asking Jeanie "if it werena a pleasant abode?"declared to her his intention of removing his earthly tabernacle to thatcountry, "in respect he was solicited by his Grace the Duke of Argyle, asone well skilled in country labour, and a' that appertained to flocks andherds, to superintend a store-farm, whilk his Grace had taen into his ainhand for the improvement of stock."

  Jeanie's heart sunk within her at this declaration. "She all
owed it was agoodly and pleasant land, and sloped bonnily to the western sun; and shedoubtedna that the pasture might be very gude, for the grass lookedgreen, for as drouthy as the weather had been. But it was far frae hame,and she thought she wad be often thinking on the bonny spots of turf, saefu' of gowans and yellow king-cups, amang the Crags at St. Leonard's."

  "Dinna speak on't, Jeanie," said her father; "I wish never to hear itnamed mair--that is, after the rouping is ower, and the bills paid. But Ibrought a' the beasts owerby that I thought ye wad like best. There isGowans, and there's your ain brockit cow, and the wee hawkit ane, that yeca'd--I needna tell ye how ye ca'd it--but I couldna bid them sell thepetted creature, though the sight o' it may sometimes gie us a sairheart--it's no the poor dumb creature's fault--And ane or twa beasts mairI hae reserved, and I caused them to be driven before the other beasts,that men might say, as when the son of Jesse returned from battle, 'Thisis David's spoil.'"

  Upon more particular inquiry, Jeanie found new occasion to admire theactive beneficence of her friend the Duke of Argyle. While establishing asort of experimental farm on the skirts of his immense Highland estates,he had been somewhat at a loss to find a proper person in whom to vestthe charge of it. The conversation his Grace had upon country matterswith Jeanie Deans during their return from Richmond, had impressed himwith a belief that the father, whose experience and success she sofrequently quoted, must be exactly the sort of person whom he wanted.When the condition annexed to Effie's pardon rendered it highly probablethat David Deans would choose to change his place of residence, this ideaagain occurred to the Duke more strongly, and as he was an enthusiastequally in agriculture and in benevolence, he imagined he was serving thepurposes of both, when he wrote to the gentleman in Edinburgh entrustedwith his affairs, to inquire into the character of David Deans,cowfeeder, and so forth, at St. Leonard's Crags; and if he found him suchas he had been represented, to engage him without delay, and on the mostliberal terms, to superintend his fancy-farm in Dumbartonshire.

  The proposal was made to old David by the gentleman so commissioned, onthe second day after his daughter's pardon had reached Edinburgh. Hisresolution to leave St. Leonard's had been already formed; the honour ofan express invitation from the Duke of Argyle to superintend a departmentwhere so much skill and diligence was required, was in itself extremelyflattering; and the more so, because honest David, who was not without anexeellent opinion of his own talents, persuaded himself that, byaccepting this charge, he would in some sort repay the great favour hehad received at the hands of the Argyle family. The appointments,including the right of sufficient grazing for a small stock of his own,were amply liberal; and David's keen eye saw that the situation wasconvenient for trafficking to advantage in Highland cattle. There wasrisk of "her'ship"* from the neighbouring mountains, indeed, but theawful name of the Duke of Argyle would be a great security, and a trifleof _black-mail_ would, David was aware, assure his safety.

  * Her'ship, a Scottish word which may be said to be now obsolete;because, fortunately, the practice of "plundering by armed force," whichis its meaning, does not require to be commonly spoken of.

  Still however, there were two points on which he haggled. The first wasthe character of the clergyman with whose worship he was to join; and onthis delicate point he received, as we will presently show the reader,perfect satisfaction. The next obstacle was the condition of his youngestdaughter, obliged as she was to leave Scotland for so many years.

  The gentleman of the law smiled, and said, "There was no occasion tointerpret that clause very strictly--that if the young woman leftScotland for a few months, or even weeks, and came to her father's newresidence by sea from the western side of England, nobody would know ofher arrival, or at least nobody who had either the right or inclinationto give her disturbance. The extensive heritable jurisdictions of hisGrace excluded the interference of other magistrates with those living onhis estates, and they who were in immediate dependence on him wouldreceive orders to give the young woman no disturbance. Living on theverge of the Highlands, she might, indeed, be said to be out of Scotland,that is, beyond the bounds of ordinary law and civilisation."

  Old Deans was not quite satisfied with this reasoning; but the elopementof Effie, which took place on the third night after her liberation,rendered his residence at St. Leonard's so detestable to him, that heclosed at once with the proposal which had been made him, and enteredwith pleasure into the idea of surprising Jeanie, as had been proposed bythe Duke, to render the change of residence more striking to her. TheDuke had apprised Archibald of these circumstances, with orders to actaccording to the instructions he should receive from Edinburgh, and bywhich accordingly he was directed to bring Jeanie to Roseneath.

  The father and daughter communicated these matters to each other, nowstopping, now walking slowly towards the Lodge, which showed itself amongthe trees, at about half-a-mile's distance from the little bay in whichthey had landed. As they approached the house, David Deans informed hisdaughter, with somewhat like a grim smile, which was the utmost advancehe ever made towards a mirthful expression of visage, that "there wasbaith a worshipful gentleman, and ane reverend gentleman, residingtherein. The worshipful gentleman was his honour the Laird ofKnocktarlitie, who was bailie of the lordship under the Duke of Argyle,ane Highland gentleman, tarr'd wi' the same stick," David doubted, "asmony of them, namely, a hasty and choleric temper, and a neglect of thehigher things that belong to salvation, and also a gripping unto thethings of this world, without muckle distinction of property; but,however, ane gude hospitable gentleman, with whom it would be a part ofwisdom to live on a gude understanding (for Hielandmen were hasty, owerhasty). As for the reverend person of whom he had spoken, he wascandidate by favour of the Duke of Argyle (for David would not for theuniverse have called him presentee) for the kirk of the parish in whichtheir farm was situated, and he was likely to be highly acceptable untothe Christian souls of the parish, who were hungering for spiritualmanna, having been fed but upon sour Hieland sowens by Mr. DuncanMacDonought, the last minister, who began the morning duly, Sunday andSaturday, with a mutchkin of usquebaugh. But I need say the less aboutthe present lad," said David, again grimly grimacing, "as I think ye mayhae seen him afore; and here he is come to meet us."

  She had indeed seen him before, for it was no other than Reuben Butlerhimself.