Guy Mannering/Volume 3/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter,
And aye the ale was growing better.
We must now return to Woodbourne, which it may be remembered we left just after the Colonel had given some directions to his confidential servant. When he returned, his absence of mind, and an unusual expression of thought and anxiety upon his features, struck the ladies whom he joined in the drawing-room. Mannering was not, however, a man to be questioned, even by those whom he most loved, upon the cause of the mental agitation which these signs expressed. The hour of tea arrived, and the party were partaking of that refreshment in silence, when a carriage drove up to the door, and the bell announced the arrival of a visitor. "Surely," said Mannering, "it is too soon by some hours."—
There was a short pause, when Barnes, opening the door of the saloon, announced Mr. Pleydell. In marched the lawyer, whose well-brushed black coat, and well-powdered wig, together with his point ruffles, brown silk stockings, highly-varnished shoes, and gold buckles, exhibited the pains which the old gentleman had taken to prepare his person for the ladies' society. He was welcomed by Mannering with a hearty shake by the hand. "The very man I wished to see at this moment!"
"Yes, I told you I would take the first opportunity, so I have ventured to leave the court for a week in session time—no common sacrifice—but I had a notion I could be useful, and I was to attend a proof here about the same time.—But will you not introduce me to the young ladies?—Ah! there is one I should have known at once from her family likeness! Miss Lucy Bertram, my love, I am most happy to see you,"—And he folded her in his arms, and gave her a hearty kiss on each side of the face, to which Lucy submitted in blushing resignation.—"On n' arrete pas dans un si beau chemin," continued the gay old gentleman, and, as the Colonel presented him to Julia, took the same liberty with that fair lady's cheek. Julia laughed, coloured, and disengaged herself. "I beg a thousand pardons," said the lawyer, with a bow which was not at all professionally awkward; "age and old fashions give privileges, and I can hardly say whether I am most sorry just now at being too well entitled to claim them at all, or happy in having such an opportunity to exercise them so agreeably."
"Upon my word, sir," said Miss Mannering, laughing, "if you make such flattering apologies, we will begin to doubt whether we can admit you to shelter yourself under your alleged qualifications."
"I can assure you, Julia," said the Colonel, "you are perfectly right, my friend the counsellor is a dangerous person; the last time I had the pleasure of seeing him, he was closetted with a fair lady who had granted him a tete-a-tete at eight in the morning."
"Aye, but, Colonel, you should add, I was more indebted to my chocolate than my charms for so distinguished a favour, from a person of such propriety of demeanour as Mrs. Rebecca."
"And that should remind me, Mr, Pleydell," said Julia, "to offer you tea—that is, supposing you have dined."
"Any thing, Miss Mannering, from your hands—yes, I have dined—that is to say, as people dine at a Scotch inn."
"And that is indifferently enough," said the Colonel, with his hand upon the bell-handle; "give me leave to order something."
"Why, to say truth, I had rather not; I have been enquiring into that matter, for you must know I stopped an instant below to pull off my boot-hose, 'a world too wide for my shrunk shanks,'" glancing down with some complacency upon limbs which looked very well for his time of life, "and I had some conversation with your Barnes, and a very intelligent person whom I presume to be the housekeeper, and it was settled among us—tota re perspecta—I beg Miss Mannering's pardon for my Latin—that the old lady should add to your light family-supper the more substantial refreshment of a brace of wild-ducks. I told her (always under deep submission) my poor thoughts about the sauce, and, if you please, I would rather wait till they are ready before eating any thing solid."
"And we will anticipate our usual hour of supper," said the Colonel.
"With all my heart," said Pleydell, "providing I don't lose the ladies' company a moment the sooner. I am of counsel with my old friend B; I love the cæna, the supper of the ancients, the pleasant meal and social glass that washes out of one's mind the cobwebs that business or gloom have been spinning in our brains all day."
The vivacity of Mr. Pleydell's look and manner, and the quietness with which he put himself at home upon the subject of his little epicurean comforts, amused the ladies, but particularly Miss Mannering, who immediately gave the counsellor a great deal of flattering attention; and more pretty things were said upon both sides during the service of the tea-table than we have leisure to repeat.
So soon as this was over, Mannering led the counsellor by the arm into a small study which opened from the saloon, and where, according to the custom of the family, there were always lights and a good fire in the evening.
"I see," said Mr. Pleydell, "you have got something to tell me about the Ellangowan business—Is it terrestrial or celetial? What says my military Albumazar? Have you calculated the course of futurity? have you consulted your Ephemerides, your Almochodon, your Almuten?"
"No, truly, counsellor, you are the only Ptolemy I intend to resort to upon the present occasion—a second Prospero, I have broke my staff, and drowned my book far beyond plummet depth. But I have great news notwithstanding. Meg Merrilies, our Egyptian sybil, has appeared to the Dominie this very day, and, as I conjecture, has frightened him not a little."
"Indeed?"
"Aye, and she has done me the honour to open a correspondence with me, supposing me to be as deep in astrological mysteries as when we first met; here is her scroll, delivered to me by the Dominie."
Pleydell put on his spectacles. "A vile greasy scrawl, indeed—and the letters are uncial or semiuncial, as somebody calls your large text hand, and in size and perpendicularity resemble the ribs of a roasted pig—I can hardly make it out."
"Read aloud," said Mannering.
"I will try:"'You are a good seeker, but a bad finder; you set yourself to prop a falling house, but had a gay guess it would rise again. Lend your hand to the wark that's near, as you lent your e'e to the weird that was far. Have a carriage this night by ten o'clock, at the end of the Crooked Dykes at Portanferry, and let it bring the folk to Woodbourne that shall ask them, if they be there in God's name.—Stay, here follows, some poetry—
Dark shall be light,
And wrong done to right,
When Bertram's right and Bertram's might
Shall meet on Ellangowan's height.
"A most mystic epistle truly, and closes in a vein of poetry worthy of the Cumæan sybil—And what have you done?"
"Why, I was loth to risk any opportunity of throwing light on this business. The woman is perhaps crazed, and these effusions may arise only from visions of her imagination;—but you were of opinion that she knew more of that strange story than she ever told."
"And so you sent a carriage to the place named?"
"You will laugh at me if I own I did."
"Who, I?—no, truly, I think it was the wisest thing you could do."
"Yes, and the worst is paying the chaise-hire—I sent a post-chaise and four from Kippletringan, with instructions corresponding to the letter—the horses will have a long and cold station upon the out-post to-night if our intelligence be false."
"O, but I think it will prove otherwise. This woman has played a part till she believes it; or, if she be a thorough-paced impostor, without a single grain of self-delusion to qualify her knavery, still she may think herself bound to act in character—this I know, that I could get nothing out of her by the common modes of interrogation, and the wisest thing we can do is to give her an opportunity of making the discovery her own way. And now have you more to say, or shall we go to the ladies?"
"Why, my mind is uncommonly agitated, and—but I really have no more to say—only I shall count the minutes till the carriage returns; but you cannot be expected to be so anxious."
"Why, no—use is all in all—I am much interested certainly, but I think I shall be able to survive the interval, if the ladies will afford us some music."
"And with the assistance of the wild-ducks by and bye?"
"True, Colonel; a lawyer's anxiety about the fate of the most interesting cause has seldom spoiled either his sleep or digestion, and yet I shall be very eager to hear the rattle of these wheels on their return, notwithstanding."
So saying, he rose and led the way into the next room, where Miss Mannering, at his request, took her seat at the harpsichord. Lucy Bertram, who sung her native melodies very sweetly, was accompanied by her friend upon the instrument, and Julia afterwards performed some of Corelli's sonatas with great brilliancy. The old lawyer, scraping a little upon the violoncello, and being a member of the gentlemen's concert in Edinburgh, was so greatly delighted with this mode of spending the evening, that I doubt if he once thought of the wild-ducks until Barnes informed the company that supper was ready.
"Tell Mrs. Allan to have something in readiness," said the Colonel—"I expect—that is, I hope—perhaps some person may be here to night; and let the men sit up, and do not lock the upper gate on the lawn until I desire you."
"Lord, sir," said Julia, "whom can you possibly expect to-night?"
"Why, some persons, strangers to me, talked of calling in the evening about business—it is quite uncertain."
"Well, we shall not pardon them disturbing our party, unless they bring as much good humour, and as susceptible hearts, as my friend and admirer, for so he has dubbed himself, Mr. Pleydell."
"Ah, Miss Julia," said Pleydell, offering his arm with an air of gallantry to conduct her into the eating room, "the time has been—when I returned from Utrecht in the year 1738"
"Pray don't talk of it—we like you much better as you are—Utrecht, in heaven's name!—I dare say you have spent all the intervening years in getting rid so completely of the effects of your Dutch education."
"O, forgive me. Miss Mannering; the Dutch are a much more accomplished people in point of gallantry than their volatile neighbours are willing to admit. They are constant as clock-work in their attentions."
"I should tire of that."
"Imperturbable in their good temper."
"Worse and worse."
"And then, although for six times three hundred and sixty-five days, he has placed the capuchin round your neck, and the stove under your feet, and driven your little cabriole upon the ice in winter, and through the dust in summer, you may dismiss him at once, without reason or apology, upon the two thousand one hundred and ninetieth day, which, according to my hasty calculation, and without reckoning leap-years, will complete the cycle of the supposed adoration, and that without your amiable feelings having the slightest occasion to be alarmed for the consequences to those of Mynheer."
"Well, that last is truly a Dutch recommendation, Mr. Pleydell—glasses and hearts would lose all their merit in the world, if it were not for their fragility."
"Why, as to that, Miss Mannering, it is as difficult to find a heart that will break, as a glass that will not; and for that reason I would press the value of mine own—were it not that I see Mr. Sampson's eyes have been closed, and his hands clasped for some time, attending the end of our conference to begin the grace—And to say the truth, the appearance of the wild-ducks is very appetizing." So saying, the worthy counsellor sat himself to table, and laid aside his gallantry for a while, to do honour to the good things placed before him. Nothing further is recorded of him for some time, excepting an observation that the ducks were roasted to a single turn, and that Mrs. Allan's sauce was beyond praise.
"I see," said Miss Mannering, "I have a formidable rival in Mr. Pleydell's favour, even on the very first night of his avowed admiration."
"Pardon me, my fair lady, your avowed rigour alone has induced me to commit the solecism of eating a good supper in your presence; how shall I support your frowns without reinforcing my strength? Upon the same principle, and no other, I will ask permission to drink wine with you."
"This is the fashion of Utrecht also, I suppose, Mr Pleydell?"
"Forgive me, madam; the French themselves, the patterns of all that is gallant, term their tavern-keepers restaurateurs, alluding, doubtless, to the relief they afford the disconsolate lover, when bowed down to the earth by his mistress's severity. My own case requires so much relief, that I must trouble you for that other wing, Mr Sampson, without prejudice to my afterwards applying to Miss Bertram for a tart;—be pleased to tear the wing, sir, instead of cutting it off.—Mr. Barnes will assist you, Mr. Sampson—thank you, sir—and, Mr. Barnes, a glass of ale if you please."
While the old gentleman, pleased with Miss Mannering's liveliness and attention, rattled away for her amusement and his own, the impatience of Colonel Mannering began to exceed all bounds. He declined sitting down to table, under pretence that he never eat supper; and traversed the parlour, in which they were, with hasty and impatient steps, now throwing up the window to gaze upon the dark lawn, now listening for the remote sound of the carriage advancing up the avenue. At length, in a feeling of uncontroulable impatience, he left the room, took his hat and cloak, and pursued his walk up the avenue, as if his so doing would hasten the approach of those whom he desired to see. "I really wish," said Miss Bertram, "Colonel Mannering would not venture out after night-fall. You must have heard, Mr. Pleydell, what a cruel fright we had."
"O, with the smugglers;—they are old friends of mine, I was the means of bringing some of them to justice a long time since."
"And then the alarm we had immediately afterwards from the vengeance of one of these wretches."
"When young Hazlewood was hurt—I heard of that too."
"Imagine, my dear Mr. Pleydell, how much Miss Manneriug and I were alarmed, when a ruffian, equally dreadful for his great strength, and the sternness of his features, rushed out upon us!"
"You must know, Mr. Pleydell," said Julia, unable to suppress her resentment at this undesigned aspersion of her admirer, "that young Hazlewood is so handsome in the eyes of the young ladies of this country, that they think every person shocking who comes near him."
"Oho!" thought Pleydell, who was by profession an observer of tones and gestures, "there's something wrong here between my young friends.—Well, Miss Mannering, I have not seen young Hazlewood since he was a boy, so the ladies may be perfectly right; but I can assure you, in spite of your scorn, that if you want to see handsome men you must go to Holland; the prettiest fellow I ever saw was a Dutchman, in spite of his being called Vanbost, or Vanbuster, or some such barbarous name. He won't be quite so handsome now, to be sure."
It was now Julia's turn to look a little out of countenance, but at that instant the Colonel entered the room. "I can hear nothing of them yet," he said; "still, however, we will not separate—Where is Dominie Sampson?"
"Here, honoured sir."
"What is that book you hold in your hand, Mr Sampson?"
"It's even the learned De Lyra, sir—I would crave his honour, Mr. Pleydell's judgment, always with his best leisure, to expound a disputed passage."
"I am not in the vein, Mr Sampson," answered Pleydell; "here's metal more attractive.—I do not despair to engage these two young ladies in a glee or a catch, wherein I, even I myself, will adventure myself for the bass part—Hang De Lyra, man; keep him for a fitter season."
The disappointed Dominie shut his ponderous tome, much marvelling in his mind how a person, possessed of the lawyer's erudition, could give his mind to these frivolous toys. But the counsellor, indifferent to the high character which he was trifling away, filled himself a large glass of Burgundy, and after preluding a little with a voice somewhat the worse for the wear, gave the ladies a courageous invitation to join in "We be three poor Mariners," and accomplished his own part therein with great eclat.
"Are you not withering your roses with sitting up so late, my young ladies?" said the Colonel.
"Not a bit, sir," answered Julia; "your friend Mr. Pleydell threatens to become a pupil of Mr. Sampson's to-morrow, so we must make the most of our conquest to-night."
This led to another musical trial of skill, and that to lively conversation. At length, when the solitary sound of one o'clock had long since resounded on the ebon ear of night, and the next signal of the advance of time was close approaching, Mannering, whose impatience had long subsided into disappointment and despair, looked his watch, and said, "We must now give them up"—when at that instant—But what then befell will require a separate chapter.