The Black Dwarf

Chapter 12

The researches after Miss Vere were (for the sake of appearances,

perhaps) resumed on the succeeding day, with similar bad success, and

the party were returning towards Ellieslaw in the evening.

"It is singular," said Mareschal to Ratcliffe, "that four horsemen and

a female prisoner should have passed through the country without leaving

the slightest trace of their passage. One would think they had traversed

the air, or sunk through the ground."

"Men may often," answered Ratcliffe, "arrive at the knowledge of that

which is, from discovering that which is not. We have now scoured every

road, path, and track leading from the castle, in all the various points

of the compass, saving only that intricate and difficult pass which

leads southward down the Westburn, and through the morasses."

"And why have we not examined that?" said Mareschal.

"O, Mr. Vere can best answer that question," replied his companion,

dryly.

"Then I will ask it instantly," said Mareschal; and, addressing Mr.

Vere, "I am informed, sir," said he, "there is a path we have not

examined, leading by Westburnflat."

"O," said Sir Frederick, laughing, "we know the owner of Westburnflat

well--a wild lad, that knows little difference between his neighbour's

goods and his own; but, withal, very honest to his principles: he would

disturb nothing belonging to Ellieslaw."

"Besides," said Mr. Vere, smiling mysteriously, "he had other tow on his

distaff last night. Have you not heard young Elliot of the Heugh-foot

has had his house burnt, and his cattle driven away, because he refused

to give up his arms to some honest men that think of starting for the

king?"

The company smiled upon each other, as at hearing of an exploit which

favoured their own views.

"Yet, nevertheless," resumed Mareschal, "I think we ought to ride in

this direction also, otherwise we shall certainly be blamed for our

negligence."

No reasonable objection could be offered to this proposal, and the party

turned their horses' heads towards Westburnflat.

They had not proceeded very far in that direction when the trampling of

horses was heard, and a small body of riders were perceived advancing to

meet them.

"There comes Earnscliff," said Mareschal; "I know his bright bay with

the star in his front."

"And there is my daughter along with him," exclaimed Vere,

furiously. "Who shall call my suspicions false or injurious now?

Gentlemen--friends--lend me the assistance of your swords for the

recovery of my child."

He unsheathed his weapon, and was imitated by Sir Frederick and several

of the party, who prepared to charge those that were advancing towards

them. But the greater part hesitated.

"They come to us in all peace and security," said Mareschal-Wells; "let

us first hear what account they give us of this mysterious affair. If

Miss Vere has sustained the slightest insult or injury from Earnscliff,

I will be first to revenge her; but let us hear what they say."

"You do me wrong by your suspicions, Mareschal," continued Vere; "you

are the last I would have expected to hear express them."

"You injure yourself, Ellieslaw, by your violence, though the cause may

excuse it."

He then advanced a little before the rest, and called out, with a loud

voice,--"Stand, Mr. Earnscliff; or do you and Miss Vere advance alone

to meet us. You are charged with having carried that lady off from her

father's house; and we are here in arms to shed our best blood for her

recovery, and for bringing to justice those who have injured her."

"And who would do that more willingly than I, Mr. Mareschal?" said

Earnscliff, haughtily,--"than I, who had the satisfaction this morning

to liberate her from the dungeon in which I found her confined, and who

am now escorting her back to the Castle of Ellieslaw?"

"Is this so, Miss Vere?" said Mareschal.

"It is," answered Isabella, eagerly,--"it is so; for Heaven's sake

sheathe your swords. I will swear by all that is sacred, that I was

carried off by ruffians, whose persons and object were alike unknown to

me, and am now restored to freedom by means of this gentleman's gallant

interference."

"By whom, and wherefore, could this have been done?" pursued

Mareschal.--"Had you no knowledge of the place to which you were

conveyed?--Earnscliff, where did you find this lady?"

But ere either question could be answered, Ellieslaw advanced, and,

returning his sword to the scabbard, cut short the conference.

"When I know," he said, "exactly how much I owe to Mr. Earnscliff, he

may rely on suitable acknowledgments; meantime," taking the bridle of

Miss Vere's horse, "thus far I thank him for replacing my daughter in

the power of her natural guardian."

A sullen bend of the head was returned by Earnscliff with equal

haughtiness; and Ellieslaw, turning back with his daughter upon the road

to his own house, appeared engaged with her in a conference so

earnest, that the rest of the company judged it improper to intrude by

approaching them too nearly. In the meantime, Earnscliff, as he took

leave of the other gentlemen belonging to Ellieslaw's party, said aloud,

"Although I am unconscious of any circumstance in my conduct that can

authorize such a suspicion, I cannot but observe, that Mr. Vere seems

to believe that I have had some hand in the atrocious violence which has

been offered to his daughter. I request you, gentlemen, to take notice

of my explicit denial of a charge so dishonourable; and that, although

I can pardon the bewildering feelings of a father in such a moment,

yet, if any other gentleman," (he looked hard at Sir Frederick Langley)

"thinks my word and that of Miss Vere, with the evidence of my friends

who accompany me, too slight for my exculpation, I will be happy--most

happy--to repel the charge, as becomes a man who counts his honour

dearer than his life."

"And I'll be his second," said Simon of Hackburn, "and take up ony twa

o' ye, gentle or semple, laird or loon; it's a' ane to Simon."

"Who is that rough-looking fellow?" said Sir Frederick Langley, "and

what has he to do with the quarrels of gentlemen?"

"I'se be a lad frae the Hie Te'iot," said Simon, "and I'se quarrel wi'

ony body I like, except the king, or the laird I live under."

"Come," said; Mareschal, "let us have no brawls.--Mr. Earnscliff;

although we do not think alike in some things, I trust we may be

opponents, even enemies, if fortune will have it so, without losing our

respect for birth, fair-play, and each other. I believe you as innocent

of this matter as I am myself; and I will pledge myself that my cousin

Ellieslaw, as soon as the perplexity attending these sudden events has

left his judgment to its free exercise, shall handsomely acknowledge the

very important service you have this day rendered him."

"To have served your cousin is a sufficient reward in itself--Good

evening, gentlemen," continued Earnscliff; "I see most of your party are

already on their way to Ellieslaw."

Then saluting Mareschal with courtesy, and the rest of the party

with indifference, Earnscliff turned his horse and rode towards

the Heugh-foot, to concert measures with Hobbie Elliot for farther

researches after his bride, of whose restoration to her friends he was

still ignorant.

"There he goes," said Mareschal; "he is a fine, gallant young fellow,

upon my soul; and yet I should like well to have a thrust with him on

the green turf. I was reckoned at college nearly his equal with the

foils, and I should like to try him at sharps."

"In my opinion," answered Sir Frederick Langley, "we have done very

ill in having suffered him, and those men who are with him, to go off

without taking away their arms; for the Whigs are very likely to draw to

a head under such a sprightly young fellow as that."

"For shame, Sir Frederick!" exclaimed Mareschal; "do you think that

Ellieslaw could, in honour, consent to any violence being offered to

Earnscliff; when he entered his bounds only to bring back his daughter?

or, if he were to be of your opinion, do you think that I, and the rest

of these gentlemen, would disgrace ourselves by assisting in such a

transaction? No, no, fair play and auld Scotland for ever! When the

sword is drawn, I will be as ready to use it as any man; but while it is

in the sheath, let us behave like gentlemen and neighbours."

Soon after this colloquy they reached the castle, when Ellieslaw, who

had been arrived a few minutes before, met them in the court-yard.

"How is Miss Vere? and have you learned the cause of her being carried

off?" asked Mareschal hastily.

"She is retired to her apartment greatly fatigued; and I cannot expect

much light upon her adventure till her spirits are somewhat recruited,"

replied her father. "She and I were not the less obliged to you,

Mareschal, and to my other friends, for their kind enquiries. But I must

suppress the father's feelings for a while to give myself up to those of

the patriot. You know this is the day fixed for our final decision--time

presses--our friends are arriving, and I have opened house, not only

for the gentry, but for the under spur-leathers whom we must necessarily

employ. We have, therefore, little time to prepare to meet them.--Look

over these lists, Marchie (an abbreviation by which Mareschal-Wells was

known among his friends). Do you, Sir Frederick, read these letters from

Lothian and the west--all is ripe for the sickle, and we have but to

summon out the reapers."

"With all my heart," said Mareschal; "the more mischief the better

sport."

Sir Frederick looked grave and disconcerted.

"Walk aside with me, my good friend," said Ellieslaw to the sombre

baronet; "I have something for your private ear, with which I know you

will be gratified."

They walked into the house, leaving Ratcliffe and Mareschal standing

together in the court.

"And so," said Ratcliffe, "the gentlemen of your political persuasion

think the downfall of this government so certain, that they disdain even

to throw a decent disguise over the machinations of their party?"

"Faith, Mr. Ratcliffe," answered Mareschal, "the actions and sentiments

YOUR friends may require to be veiled, but I am better pleased that ours

can go barefaced."

"And is it possible," continued Ratcliffe, "that you, who,

notwithstanding pour thoughtlessness and heat of temper (I beg pardon,

Mr. Mareschal, I am a plain man)--that you, who, notwithstanding

these constitutional defects, possess natural good sense and acquired

information, should be infatuated enough to embroil yourself in such

desperate proceedings? How does your head feel when you are engaged in

these dangerous conferences?"

"Not quite so secure on my shoulders," answered Mareschal, "as if I were

talking of hunting and hawking. I am not of so indifferent a mould as

my cousin Ellieslaw, who speaks treason as if it were a child's nursery

rhymes, and loses and recovers that sweet girl, his daughter, with a

good deal less emotion on both occasions, than would have affected me

had I lost and recovered a greyhound puppy. My temper is not quite so

inflexible, nor my hate against government so inveterate, as to blind me

to the full danger of the attempt."

"Then why involve yourself in it?" said Ratcliffe.

"Why, I love this poor exiled king with all my heart; and my father was

an old Killiecrankie man, and I long to see some amends on the Unionist

courtiers, that have bought and sold old Scotland, whose crown has been

so long independent."

"And for the sake of these shadows," said his monitor, "you are going to

involve your country in war and yourself in trouble?"

"I involve? No!--but, trouble for trouble, I had rather it came

to-morrow than a month hence. COME, I know it will; and, as your country

folks say, better soon than syne--it will never find me younger--and as

for hanging, as Sir John Falstaff says, I can become a gallows as well

as another. You know the end of the old ballad;

"Mr. Mareschal, I am sorry for you," said his grave adviser.

"I am obliged to you, Mr. Ratcliffe; but I would not have you judge of

our enterprise by my way of vindicating it; there are wiser heads than

mine at the work."

"Wiser heads than yours may lie as low," said Ratcliffe, in a warning

tone.

"Perhaps so; but no lighter heart shall; and, to prevent it being made

heavier by your remonstrances, I will bid you adieu, Mr. Ratcliffe, till

dinner-time, when you shall see that my apprehensions have not spoiled

my appetite."