CHAPTER XIII They told me, by the sentence of the law, They had commission to seize all thy fortune. Here stood a ruffian with a horrid face, Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate, Tumbled into a heap for public sale; There was another, making villainous jests At thy undoing; he had ta'en possession Of all thy ancient most domestic ornaments.
OTWAY.
Early next morning Mannering mounted his horse and, accompanied by hisservant, took the road to Ellangowan. He had no need to inquire the way.A sale in the country is a place of public resort and amusement, andpeople of various descriptions streamed to it from all quarters.
After a pleasant ride of about an hour, the old towers of the ruinpresented themselves in the landscape. The thoughts, with what differentfeelings he had lost sight of them so many years before, thronged uponthe mind of the traveller. The landscape was the same; but how changedthe feelings, hopes, and views of the spectator! Then life and love werenew, and all the prospect was gilded by their rays. And now, disappointedin affection, sated with fame and what the world calls success, his mind,goaded by bitter and repentant recollection, his best hope was to find aretirement in which he might nurse the melancholy that was to accompanyhim to his grave. 'Yet why should an individual mourn over theinstability of his hopes and the vanity of his prospects? The ancientchiefs who erected these enormous and massive towers to be the fortressof their race and the seat of their power,--could they have dreamed theday was to come when the last of their descendants should be expelled, aruined wanderer, from his possessions! But Nature's bounties areunaltered. The sun will shine as fair on these ruins, whether theproperty of a stranger or of a sordid and obscure trickster of the abusedlaw, as when the banners of the founder first waved upon theirbattlements.'
These reflections brought Mannering to the door of the house, which wasthat day open to all. He entered among others, who traversed theapartments, some to select articles for purchase, others to gratify theircuriosity. There is something melancholy in such a scene, even under themost favourable circumstances. The confused state of the furniture,displaced for the convenience of being easily viewed and carried off bythe purchasers, is disagreeable to the eye. Those articles which,properly and decently arranged, look creditable and handsome, have then apaltry and wretched appearance; and the apartments, stripped of all thatrender them commodious and comfortable, have an aspect of ruin anddilapidation. It is disgusting also to see the scenes of domestic societyand seclusion thrown open to the gaze of the curious and the vulgar, tohear their coarse speculations and brutal jests upon the fashions andfurniture to which they are unaccustomed,--a frolicsome humour muchcherished by the whisky which in Scotland is always put in circulation onsuch occasions. All these are ordinary effects of such a scene asEllangowan now presented; but the moral feeling, that in this case theyindicated the total ruin of an ancient and honourable family, gave themtreble weight and poignancy.
It was some time before Colonel Mannering could find any one disposed toanswer his reiterated questions concerning Ellangowan himself. At lengthan old maidservant, who held her apron to her eyes as she spoke, told him'the Laird was something better, and they hoped he would be able to leavethe house that day. Miss Lucy expected the chaise every moment, and, asthe day was fine for the time o'year, they had carried him in hiseasychair up to the green before the auld castle, to be out of the way ofthis unco spectacle.' Thither Colonel Mannering went in quest of him, andsoon came in sight of the little group, which consisted of four persons.The ascent was steep, so that he had time to reconnoitre them as headvanced, and to consider in what mode he should make his address.
Mr. Bertram, paralytic and almost incapable of moving, occupied hiseasy-chair, attired in his nightcap and a loose camlet coat, his feetwrapped in blankets. Behind him, with his hands crossed on the cane uponwhich he rested, stood Dominie Sampson, whom Mannering recognised atonce. Time had made no change upon him, unless that his black coat seemedmore brown, and his gaunt cheeks more lank, than when Mannering last sawhim. On one side of the old man was a sylph-like form--a young woman ofabout seventeen, whom the Colonel accounted to be his daughter. She waslooking from time to time anxiously towards the avenue, as if expectingthe post-chaise; and between whiles busied herself in adjusting theblankets so as to protect her father from the cold, and in answeringinquiries, which he seemed to make with a captious and querulous manner.She did not trust herself to look towards the Place, although the hum ofthe assembled crowd must have drawn her attention in that direction. Thefourth person of the group was a handsome and genteel young man, whoseemed to share Miss Bertram's anxiety, and her solicitude to soothe andaccommodate her parent.
This young man was the first who observed Colonel Mannering, andimmediately stepped forward to meet him, as if politely to prevent hisdrawing nearer to the distressed group. Mannering instantly paused andexplained. 'He was,' he said, 'a stranger to whom Mr. Bertram hadformerly shown kindness and hospitality; he would not have intrudedhimself upon him at a period of distress, did it not seem to be in somedegree a moment also of desertion; he wished merely to offer suchservices as might be in his power to Mr. Bertram and the young lady.'
He then paused at a little distance from the chair. His old acquaintancegazed at him with lack-lustre eye, that intimated no tokens ofrecognition; the Dominie seemed too deeply sunk in distress even toobserve his presence. The young man spoke aside with Miss Bertram, whoadvanced timidly, and thanked Colonel Mannering for his goodness; 'but,'she said, the tears gushing fast into her eyes, 'her father, she feared,was not so much himself as to be able to remember him.'
She then retreated towards the chair, accompanied by the Colonel.'Father,' she said, 'this is Mr. Mannering, an old friend, come toinquire after you.'
'He's very heartily welcome,' said the old man, raising himself in hischair, and attempting a gesture of courtesy, while a gleam of hospitablesatisfaction seemed to pass over his faded features; 'but, Lucy, my dear,let us go down to the house; you should not keep the gentleman here inthe cold. Dominie, take the key of the wine-cooler. Mr. a--a--thegentleman will surely take something after his ride.'
Mannering was unspeakably affected by the contrast which his recollectionmade between this reception and that with which he had been greeted bythe same individual when they last met. He could not restrain his tears,and his evident emotion at once attained him the confidence of thefriendless young lady.
'Alas!' she said, 'this is distressing even to a stranger; but it may bebetter for my poor father to be in this way than if he knew and couldfeel all.'
A servant in livery now came up the path, and spoke in an undertone tothe young gentleman--'Mr. Charles, my lady's wanting you yonder sadly, tobid for her for the black ebony cabinet; and Lady Jean Devorgoil is wi'her an' a'; ye maun come away directly.'
'Tell them you could not find me, Tom, or, stay,--say I am looking at thehorses.'
'No, no, no,' said Lucy Bertram, earnestly; 'if you would not add to themisery of this miserable moment, go to the company directly. Thisgentleman, I am sure, will see us to the carriage.'
'Unquestionably, madam,' said Mannering, 'your young friend may rely onmy attention.'
'Farewell, then,' said young Hazlewood, and whispered a word in her ear;then ran down the steep hastily, as if not trusting his resolution at aslower pace.
'Where's Charles Hazlewood running?' said the invalid, who apparently wasaccustomed to his presence and attentions; 'where's Charles Hazlewoodrunning? what takes him away now?'
'He'll return in a little while,' said Lucy, gently.
The sound of voices was now heard from the ruins. The reader may rememberthere was a communication between the castle and the beach, up which thespeakers had ascended.
'Yes, there's a plenty of shells and seaware for manure, as you observe;and if one inclined to build a new house, which might indeed benecessary, there's a great deal of good hewn stone about this olddungeon, for the devil here--'
'Good God!' said Miss Bertram hastily to Sampson, ''t is that wretchGlossin's voice! If my father sees him, it will kill him outright!'
Sampson wheeled perpendicularly round, and moved with long strides toconfront the attorney as he issued from beneath the portal arch of theruin. 'Avoid ye!' he said, 'avoid ye! wouldst thou kill and takepossession?'
'Come, come, Master Dominie Sampson,' answered Glossin insolently, 'if yecannot preach in the pulpit, we'll have no preaching here. We go by thelaw, my good friend; we leave the gospel to you.'
The very mention of this man's name had been of late a subject of themost violent irritation to the unfortunate patient. The sound of hisvoice now produced an instantaneous effect. Mr. Bertram started upwithout assistance and turned round towards him; the ghastliness of hisfeatures forming a strange contrast with the violence of hisexclamations.--'Out of my sight, ye viper! ye frozen viper, that Iwarmed, till ye stung me! Art thou not afraid that the walls of myfather's dwelling should fall and crush thee limb and bone? Are ye notafraid the very lintels of the door of Ellangowan Castle should breakopen and swallow you up? Were ye not friendless, houseless, penniless,when I took ye by the hand; and are ye not expelling me--me and thatinnocent girl--friendless, houseless, and penniless, from the house thathas sheltered us and ours for a thousand years?'
Had Glossin been alone, he would probably have slunk off; but theconsciousness that a stranger was present, besides the person who camewith him (a sort of land-surveyor), determined him to resort toimpudence. The task, however, was almost too hard even for hiseffrontery--'Sir--sir--Mr. Bertram, sir, you should not blame me, butyour own imprudence, sir--'
The indignation of Mannering was mounting very high. 'Sir,' he said toGlossin, 'without entering into the merits of this controversy, I mustinform you that you have chosen a very improper place, time, and presencefor it. And you will oblige me by withdrawing without more words.'
Glossin, being a tall, strong, muscular man, was not unwilling rather toturn upon the stranger, whom he hoped to bully, than maintain hiswretched cause against his injured patron.--'I do not know who you are,sir,' he said, 'and I shall permit no man to use such d--d freedom withme.'
Mannering was naturally hot-tempered: his eyes flashed a dark light; hecompressed his nether lip so closely that the blood sprung, andapproaching Glossin--'Look you, sir,' he said,' that you do not know meis of little consequence. _I_ KNOW YOU; and if you do not instantlydescend that bank, without uttering a single syllable, by the Heaven thatis above us you shall make but one step from the top to the bottom!'
The commanding tone of rightful anger silenced at once the ferocity ofthe bully. He hesitated, turned on his heel, and, muttering somethingbetween his teeth about unwillingness to alarm the lady, relieved them ofhis hateful company.
Mrs. Mac-Candlish's postilion, who had come up in time to hear whatpassed, said aloud, 'If he had stuck by the way, I would have lent him aheezie, the dirty scoundrel, as willingly as ever I pitched a boddle.'
He then stepped forward to announce that his horses were in readiness forthe invalid and his daughter. But they were no longer necessary. Thedebilitated frame of Mr. Bertram was exhausted by this last effort ofindignant anger, and when he sunk again upon his chair, he expired almostwithout a struggle or groan. So little alteration did the extinction ofthe vital spark make upon his external appearance that the screams of hisdaughter, when she saw his eye fix and felt his pulse stop, firstannounced his death to the spectators.