Part 39 (2/2)

Allan, the good housekeeper, who, with the reverent attention which is usually rendered to the clergy in Scotland, was on the watch for his return, sallied forth to meet him--” What's this o't now, Mr.

Sampson, this is waur than ever!--Ye'll really do yourself some injury wi' these lang fasts--naething's sae hurtful to the stamach, Mr. Sampson;--if ye would but put some peppermint draps in your pocket, or let Barnes cut ye 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 needna gang in there, the cloth's been removed an hour syne, and the Colonel's at his wine; but just step into my room, I have a nice steak that the cook will do in a moment.”

”Exorciso te!” said Sampson,--”that is, I have dined.”

”Dined! it's impossible--wha can ye hae dined wi', you that gangs out 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--Wae's me! Hech, sirs!

It's a sair thing to see learning bring folk to this!” And with this compa.s.sionate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, 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?” replied the astonished Colonel.

”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 sc.r.a.p of paper which he had received from the gipsy 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?” demanded Mannering.

The Dominie, who often displayed some delicacy of recollection in cases where Miss Bertram had an interest, remembered the painful circ.u.mstances connected with Meg Merrilies, looked at the young ladies, and remained silent. ”We will join you at the tea-table in an instant, Julia,” said the Colonel; ”I see that Mr. Sampson wishes to speak to me alone.--And now they are gone, what, in heaven's name, Mr. Sampson, is the meaning of all 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 gipsy.”

”Are you sure it was she?” said the Colonel with great interest.

”Sure, honoured sir?--Of a truth she is one not to be forgotten--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 c.o.xcomb; besides the chance of not finding her upon the spot, or that 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 cla.s.s set out by being impostors, and end by becoming 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 rang 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 ascendency which the successful soldier and accomplished gentleman had attained over the young man's 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.”

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