The Black Dwarf

Chapter 7

The night continued sullen and stormy; but morning rose as if refreshed

by the rains. Even the Mucklestane-Moor, with its broad bleak swells of

barren grounds, interspersed with marshy pools of water, seemed to smile

under the serene influence of the sky, just as good-humour can spread

a certain inexpressible charm over the plainest human countenance.

The heath was in its thickest and deepest bloom. The bees, which the

Solitary had added to his rural establishment, were abroad and on the

wing, and filled the air with the murmurs of their industry. As the old

man crept out of his little hut, his two she-goats came to meet him, and

licked his hands in gratitude for the vegetables with which he supplied

them from his garden. "You, at least," he said--"you, at least, see no

differences in form which can alter your feelings to a benefactor--to

you, the finest shape that ever statuary moulded would be an object

of indifference or of alarm, should it present itself instead of the

mis-shapen trunk to whose services you are accustomed. While I was in

the world, did I ever meet with such a return of gratitude? No; the

domestic whom I had bred from infancy made mouths at me as he stood

behind my chair; the friend whom I had supported with my fortune, and

for whose sake I had even stained--(he stopped with a strong convulsive

shudder), even he thought me more fit for the society of lunatics--for

their disgraceful restraints--for their cruel privations, than for

communication with the rest of humanity. Hubert alone--and Hubert too

will one day abandon me. All are of a piece, one mass of wickedness,

selfishness, and ingratitude--wretches, who sin even in their devotions;

and of such hardness of heart, that they do not, without hypocrisy, even

thank the Deity himself for his warm sun and pure air."

As he was plunged in these gloomy soliloquies, he heard the tramp of a

horse on the other side of his enclosure, and a strong clear bass voice

singing with the liveliness inspired by a light heart,

Canny Hobbie Elliot, canny Hobbie now,

Canny Hobbie Elliot, I'se gang alang wi' you.

At the same moment, a large deer greyhound sprung over the hermit's

fence. It is well known to the sportsmen in these wilds, that the

appearance and scent of the goat so much resemble those of their usual

objects of chase, that the best-broke greyhounds will sometimes fly upon

them. The dog in question instantly pulled down and throttled one of the

hermit's she-goats, while Hobbie Elliot, who came up, and jumped from

his horse for the purpose, was unable to extricate the harmless animal

from the fangs of his attendant until it was expiring. The Dwarf eyed,

for a few moments, the convulsive starts of his dying favourite, until

the poor goat stretched out her limbs with the twitches and shivering

fit of the last agony. He then started into an access of frenzy, and

unsheathing a long sharp knife, or dagger, which he wore under his

coat, he was about to launch it at the dog, when Hobbie, perceiving his

purpose, interposed, and caught hold of his hand, exclaiming, "Let a be

the hound, man--let a be the hound!--Na, na, Killbuck maunna be guided

that gate, neither."

The Dwarf turned his rage on the young farmer; and, by a sudden effort,

far more powerful than Hobbie expected from such a person, freed his

wrist from his grasp, and offered the dagger at his heart. All this was

done in the twinkling of an eye, and the incensed Recluse might have

completed his vengeance by plunging the weapon in Elliot's bosom, had he

not been checked by an internal impulse which made him hurl the knife to

a distance.

"No," he exclaimed, as he thus voluntarily deprived himself of the means

of gratifying his rage; "not again--not again!"

Hobbie retreated a step or two in great surprise, discomposure, and

disdain, at having been placed in such danger by an object apparently so

contemptible.

"The deil's in the body for strength and bitterness!" were the first

words that escaped him, which he followed up with an apology for the

accident that had given rise to their disagreement. "I am no justifying

Killbuck a'thegither neither, and I am sure it is as vexing to me as to

you, Elshie, that the mischance should hae happened; but I'll send you

twa goats and twa fat gimmers, man, to make a' straight again. A wise

man like you shouldna bear malice against a poor dumb thing; ye see that

a goat's like first-cousin to a deer, sae he acted but according to his

nature after a'. Had it been a pet-lamb, there wad hae been mair to be

said. Ye suld keep sheep, Elshie, and no goats, where there's sae mony

deerhounds about--but I'll send ye baith."

"Wretch!" said the Hermit, "your cruelty has destroyed one of the only

creatures in existence that would look on me with kindness!"

"Dear Elshie," answered Hobbie, "I'm wae ye suld hae cause to say sae;

I'm sure it wasna wi' my will. And yet, it's true, I should hae minded

your goats, and coupled up the dogs. I'm sure I would rather they had

worried the primest wether in my faulds.--Come, man, forget and forgie.

I'm e'en as vexed as ye can be--But I am a bridegroom, ye see, and that

puts a' things out o' my head, I think. There's the marriage-dinner, or

gude part o't, that my twa brithers are bringing on a sled round by the

Riders' Slack, three goodly bucks as ever ran on Dallomlea, as the sang

says; they couldna come the straight road for the saft grund. I wad send

ye a bit venison, but ye wadna take it weel maybe, for Killbuck catched

it."

During this long speech, in which the good-natured Borderer endeavoured

to propitiate the offended Dwarf by every argument he could think of,

he heard him with his eyes bent on the ground, as if in the deepest

meditation, and at length broke forth--"Nature?--yes! it is indeed in

the usual beaten path of Nature. The strong gripe and throttle the weak;

the rich depress and despoil the needy; the happy (those who are idiots

enough to think themselves happy) insult the misery and diminish the

consolation of the wretched.--Go hence, thou who hast contrived to give

an additional pang to the most miserable of human beings--thou who hast

deprived me of what I half considered as a source of comfort. Go hence,

and enjoy the happiness prepared for thee at home!"

"Never stir," said Hobbie, "if I wadna take you wi' me, man, if ye wad

but say it wad divert ye to be at the bridal on Monday. There will be

a hundred strapping Elliots to ride the brouze--the like's no been seen

sin' the days of auld Martin of the Preakin-tower--I wad send the sled

for ye wi' a canny powny."

"Is it to me you propose once more to mix in the society of the common

herd?" said the Recluse, with an air of deep disgust.

"Commons!" retorted Hobbie, "nae siccan commons neither; the Elliots hae

been lang kend a gentle race."

"Hence! begone!" reiterated the Dwarf; "may the same evil luck attend

thee that thou hast left behind with me! If I go not with you myself,

see if you can escape what my attendants, Wrath and Misery, have brought

to thy threshold before thee."

"I wish ye wadna speak that gate," said Hobbie. "Ye ken yoursell,

Elshie, naebody judges you to be ower canny; now, I'll tell ye just ae

word for a'--ye hae spoken as muckle as wussing ill to me and mine; now,

if ony mischance happen to Grace, which God forbid, or to mysell; or to

the poor dumb tyke; or if I be skaithed and injured in body, gudes, or

gear, I'll no forget wha it is that it's owing to."

"Out, hind!" exclaimed the Dwarf; "home! home to your dwelling, and

think on me when you find what has befallen there."

"Aweel, aweel," said Hobbie, mounting his horse, "it serves naething to

strive wi' cripples,--they are aye cankered; but I'll just tell ye

ae thing, neighbour, that if things be otherwise than weel wi' Grace

Armstrong, I'se gie you a scouther if there be a tar-barrel in the five

parishes."

So saying, he rode off; and Elshie, after looking at him with a scornful

and indignant laugh, took spade and mattock, and occupied himself in

digging a grave for his deceased favourite.

A low whistle, and the words, "Hisht, Elshie, hisht!" disturbed him

in this melancholy occupation. He looked up, and the Red Reiver of

Westburnflat was before him. Like Banquo's murderer, there was blood on

his face, as well as upon the rowels of his spurs and the sides of his

over-ridden horse.

"How now, ruffian!" demanded the Dwarf, "is thy job chared?"

"Ay, ay, doubt not that, Elshie," answered the freebooter; "When I

ride, my foes may moan. They have had mair light than comfort at the

Heugh-foot this morning; there's a toom byre and a wide, and a wail and

a cry for the bonny bride."

"The bride?"

"Ay; Charlie Cheat-the-Woodie, as we ca' him, that's Charlie Foster of

Tinning Beck, has promised to keep her in Cumberland till the blast blaw

by. She saw me, and kend me in the splore, for the mask fell frae my

face for a blink. I am thinking it wad concern my safety if she were

to come back here, for there's mony o' the Elliots, and they band weel

thegither for right or wrang. Now, what I chiefly come to ask your rede

in, is how to make her sure?"

"Wouldst thou murder her, then?"

"Umph! no, no; that I would not do, if I could help it. But they say

they can whiles get folk cannily away to the plantations from some of

the outports, and something to boot for them that brings a bonny wench.

They're wanted beyond seas thae female cattle, and they're no that

scarce here. But I think o' doing better for this lassie. There's a

leddy, that, unless she be a' the better bairn, is to be sent to foreign

parts whether she will or no; now, I think of sending Grace to wait on

her--she's a bonny lassie. Hobbie will hae a merry morning when he comes

hame, and misses baith bride and gear."

"Ay; and do you not pity him?" said the Recluse.

"Wad he pity me were I gaeing up the Castle hill at Jeddart? [ The

place of execution at that ancient burgh, where many of Westburnflat's

profession have made their final exit.] And yet I rue something for the

bit lassie; but he'll get anither, and little skaith dune--ane is as

gude as anither. And now, you that like to hear o' splores, heard ye

ever o' a better ane than I hae had this morning?"

"Air, ocean, and fire," said the Dwarf, speaking to himself, "the

earthquake, the tempest, the volcano, are all mild and moderate,

compared to the wrath of man. And what is this fellow, but one more

skilled than others in executing the end of his existence?--Hear me,

felon, go again where I before sent thee."

"To the Steward?"

"Ay; and tell him, Elshender the Recluse commands him to give thee gold.

But, hear me, let the maiden be discharged free and uninjured; return

her to her friends, and let her swear not to discover thy villainy."

"Swear," said Westburnflat; "but what if she break her aith? Women are

not famous for keeping their plight. A wise man like you should ken

that.--And uninjured--wha kens what may happen were she to be left lang

at Tinning-Beck? Charlie Cheat-the-Woodie is a rough customer. But if

the gold could be made up to twenty pieces, I think I could ensure her

being wi' her friends within the twenty-four hours."

The Dwarf took his tablets from his pocket, marked a line on them, and

tore out the leaf. "There," he said, giving the robber the leaf--"But,

mark me; thou knowest I am not to be fooled by thy treachery; if thou

darest to disobey my directions, thy wretched life, be sure, shall

answer it."

"I know," said the fellow, looking down, "that you have power on earth,

however you came by it; you can do what nae other man can do, baith by

physic and foresight; and the gold is shelled down when ye command, as

fast as I have seen the ash-keys fall in a frosty morning in October. I

will not disobey you."

"Begone, then, and relieve me of thy hateful presence."

The robber set spurs to his horse, and rode off without reply.

Hobbie Elliot had, in the meanwhile, pursued his journey rapidly,

harassed by those oppressive and indistinct fears that all was not

right, which men usually term a presentiment of misfortune. Ere he

reached the top of the bank from which he could look down on his own

habitation, he was met by his nurse, a person then of great consequence

in all families in Scotland, whether of the higher or middling classes.

The connexion between them and their foster-children was considered a

tie far too dearly intimate to be broken; and it usually happened, in

the course of years, that the nurse became a resident in the family

of her foster-son, assisting in the domestic duties, and receiving all

marks of attention and regard from the heads of the family. So soon

as Hobbie recognised the figure of Annaple, in her red cloak and black

hood, he could not help exclaiming to himself, "What ill luck can

hae brought the auld nurse sae far frae hame, her that never stirs a

gun-shot frae the door-stane for ordinar?--Hout, it will just be to get

crane-berries, or whortle-berries, or some such stuff, out of the moss,

to make the pies and tarts for the feast on Monday.--I cannot get the

words of that cankered auld cripple deil's-buckie out o' my head--the

least thing makes me dread some ill news.--O, Killbuck, man! were there

nae deer and goats in the country besides, but ye behoved to gang and

worry his creature, by a' other folk's?"

By this time Annaple, with a brow like a tragic volume, had hobbled

towards him, and caught his horse by the bridle. The despair in her look

was so evident as to deprive even him of the power of asking the cause.

"O my bairn!" she cried, "gang na forward--gang na forward--it's a sight

to kill onybody, let alane thee."

"In God's name, what's the matter?" said the astonished horseman,

endeavouring to extricate his bridle from the grasp of the old woman;

"for Heaven's sake, let me go and see what's the matter."

"Ohon! that I should have lived to see the day!--The steading's a' in

a low, and the bonny stack-yard lying in the red ashes, and the gear a'

driven away. But gang na forward; it wad break your young heart, hinny,

to see what my auld een hae seen this morning."

"And who has dared to do this? let go my bridle, Annaple--where is my

grandmother--my sisters?--Where is Grace Armstrong?--God!--the words of

the warlock are knelling in my ears!"

He sprang from his horse to rid himself of Annaple's interruption, and,

ascending the hill with great speed, soon came in view of the spectacle

with which she had threatened him. It was indeed a heart-breaking

sight. The habitation which he had left in its seclusion, beside the

mountain-stream, surrounded with every evidence of rustic plenty, was

now a wasted and blackened ruin. From amongst the shattered and sable

walls the smoke continued to rise. The turf-stack, the barn-yard, the

offices stocked with cattle, all the wealth of an upland cultivator of

the period, of which poor Elliot possessed no common share, had

been laid waste or carried off in a single night. He stood a moment

motionless, and then exclaimed, "I am ruined--ruined to the ground!--But

curse on the warld's gear--Had it not been the week before the

bridal--But I am nae babe, to sit down and greet about it. If I can but

find Grace, and my grandmother, and my sisters weel, I can go to the

wars in Flanders, as my gude-sire did, under the Bellenden banner, wi'

auld Buccleuch. At ony rate, I will keep up a heart, or they will lose

theirs a'thegither."

Manfully strode Hobbie down the hill, resolved to suppress his

own despair, and administer consolation which he did not feel. The

neighbouring inhabitants of the dell, particularly those of his own

name, had already assembled. The younger part were in arms and clamorous

for revenge, although they knew not upon whom; the elder were taking

measures for the relief of the distressed family. Annaple's cottage,

which was situated down the brook, at some distance from the scene of

mischief, had been hastily adapted for the temporary accommodation

of the old lady and her daughters, with such articles as had been

contributed by the neighbours, for very little was saved from the wreck.

"Are we to stand here a' day, sirs," exclaimed one tall young man, "and

look at the burnt wa's of our kinsman's house? Every wreath of the reek

is a blast of shame upon us! Let us to horse, and take the chase.--Who

has the nearest bloodhound?"

"It's young Earnscliff," answered another; "and he's been on and away

wi' six horse lang syne, to see if he can track them."

"Let us follow him then, and raise the country, and mak mair help as

we ride, and then have at the Cumberland reivers! Take, burn, and

slay--they that lie nearest us shall smart first."

"Whisht! haud your tongues, daft callants," said an old man, "ye dinna

ken what ye speak about. What! wad ye raise war atween two pacificated

countries?"

"And what signifies deaving us wi' tales about our fathers," retorted

the young; man, "if we're to sit and see our friends' houses burnt ower

their heads, and no put out hand to revenge them? Our fathers did not do

that, I trow?"

"I am no saying onything against revenging Hobbie's wrang, puir chield;

but we maun take the law wi' us in thae days, Simon," answered the more

prudent elder.

"And besides," said another old man, "I dinna believe there's ane now

living that kens the lawful mode of following a fray across the Border.

Tam o' Whittram kend a' about it; but he died in the hard winter."

"Ay," said a third, "he was at the great gathering, when they chased as

far as Thirlwall; it was the year after the fight of Philiphaugh."

"Hout," exclaimed another of these discording counsellors, "there's nae

great skill needed; just put a lighted peat on the end of a spear, or

hayfork, or siclike, and blaw a horn, and cry the gathering-word, and

then it's lawful to follow gear into England, and recover it by the

strong hand, or to take gear frae some other Englishman, providing ye

lift nae mair than's been lifted frae you. That's the auld Border law,

made at Dundrennan, in the days of the Black Douglas, Deil ane need

doubt it. It's as clear as the sun."

"Come away, then, lads," cried Simon, "get to your geldings, and we'll

take auld Cuddie the muckle tasker wi' us; he kens the value o' the

stock and plenishing that's been lost. Hobbie's stalls and stakes shall

be fou again or night; and if we canna big up the auld house sae soon,

we'se lay an English ane as low as Heugh-foot is--and that's fair play,

a' the warld ower."

This animating proposal was received with great applause by the younger

part of the assemblage, when a whisper ran among them, "There's Hobbie

himsell, puir fallow! we'll be guided by him."

The principal sufferer, having now reached the bottom of the hill,

pushed on through the crowd, unable, from the tumultuous state of his

feelings, to do more than receive and return the grasps of the friendly

hands by which his neighbours and kinsmen mutely expressed their

sympathy in his misfortune. While he pressed Simon of Hackburn's

hand, his anxiety at length found words. "Thank ye, Simon--thank ye,

neighbours--I ken what ye wad a' say. But where are they?--Where are--"

He stopped, as if afraid even to name the objects of his enquiry; and

with a similar feeling, his kinsmen, without reply, pointed to the hut,

into which Hobbie precipitated himself with the desperate air of one who

is resolved to know the worst at once. A general and powerful expression

of sympathy accompanied him. "Ah, puir fallow--puir Hobbie!"

"He'll learn the warst o't now!"

"But I trust Earnscliff will get some speerings o' the puir lassie."

Such were the exclamations of the group, who, having no acknowledged

leader to direct their motions, passively awaited the return of the

sufferer, and determined to be guided by his directions.

The meeting between Hobbie and his family was in the highest degree

affecting. His sisters threw themselves upon him, and almost stifled him

with their caresses, as if to prevent his looking round to distinguish

the absence of one yet more beloved.

"God help thee, my son! He can help when worldly trust is a broken

reed."--Such was the welcome of the matron to her unfortunate grandson.

He looked eagerly round, holding two of his sisters by the hand, while

the third hung about his neck--"I see you--I count you--my grandmother,

Lilias, Jean, and Annot; but where is--" (he hesitated, and then

continued, as if with an effort), "Where is Grace? Surely this is not a

time to hide hersell frae me--there's nae time for daffing now."

"O, brother!" and "Our poor Grace!" was the only answer his questions

could procure, till his grandmother rose up, and gently disengaged

him from the weeping girls, led him to a seat, and with the affecting

serenity which sincere piety, like oil sprinkled on the waves, can throw

over the most acute feelings, she said, "My bairn, when thy grandfather

was killed in the wars, and left me with six orphans around me, with

scarce bread to eat, or a roof to cover us, I had strength,--not of mine

own--but I had strength given me to say, The Lord's will be done!--My

son, our peaceful house was last night broken into by moss-troopers,

armed and masked; they have taken and destroyed all, and carried off our

dear Grace. Pray for strength to say, His will be done!"

"Mother! mother! urge me not--I cannot--not now I am a sinful man, and

of a hardened race. Masked armed--Grace carried off! Gie me my sword,

and my father's knapsack--I will have vengeance, if I should go to the

pit of darkness to seek it!"

"O my bairn, my bairn! be patient under the rod. Who knows when He may

lift His hand off from us? Young Earnscliff, Heaven bless him, has taen

the chase, with Davie of Stenhouse, and the first comers. I cried to let

house and plenishing burn, and follow the reivers to recover Grace, and

Earnscliff and his men were ower the Fell within three hours after the

deed. God bless him! he's a real Earnscliff; he's his father's true

son--a leal friend."

"A true friend indeed; God bless him!" exclaimed Hobbie; "let's on and

away, and take the chase after him."

"O, my child, before you run on danger, let me hear you but say, HIS

will be done!"

"Urge me not, mother--not now." He was rushing out, when, looking back,

he observed his grandmother make a mute attitude of affliction. He

returned hastily, threw himself into her arms, and said, "Yes, mother, I

CAN say, HIS will be done, since it will comfort you."

"May He go forth--may He go forth with you, my dear bairn; and O, may He

give you cause to say on your return, HIS name be praised!"

"Farewell, mother!--farewell, my dear sisters!" exclaimed Elliot, and

rushed out of the house.