Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (classic novels .TXT) 📕

personal considerations—and therefore what degree of compulsion he might apply to his brother’s son, or in what manner he might feel at liberty to punish his contumacy, should he disavow the Jacobite cause, must depend entirely upon the limits of his own conscience; and who was to answer for the conscience of a heated enthusiast who considers opposition to the party he has espoused, as treason to the welfare of his country? After a short interval, Cristal Nixon was pleased to throw some light upon the subject which agitated him.

When that grim satellite rode up without ceremony close to Darsie’s side, the latter felt his very flesh creep with abhorrence, so little was he able to endure his presence, since the story of Lilias had added to his instinctive hatred of the man.

His voice, too, sounded like that of a screech-owl, as he said, ‘So, my young cock of the north, you now know it all, and no doubt are blessing your uncle for stirring you up to such an honourable action.’

‘I will acquaint my uncle with my sentiments on the subject, before I make them known to any one else,’ said Darsie, scarcely prevailing on his tongue to utter even these few words in a civil manner.

‘Umph,’ murmured Cristal betwixt his teeth. ‘Close as wax, I see; and perhaps not quite so pliable. But take care, my pretty youth,’ he added, scornfully; ‘Hugh Redgauntlet will prove a rough colt-breaker—he will neither spare whipcord nor spur-rowel, I promise you.’

‘I have already said, Mr. Nixon, answered Darsie, ‘that I will canvass those matters of which my sister has informed me, with my uncle himself, and with no other person.’

‘Nay, but a word of friendly advice would do you no harm, young master,’ replied Nixon. ‘Old Redgauntlet is apter at a blow than a word—likely to bite before he barks—the true man for giving Scarborough warning, first knock you down, then bid you stand. So, methinks, a little kind warning as to consequences were not amiss, lest they come upon you unawares.’

‘If the warning is really kind, Mr. Nixon,’ said the young man, ‘I will hear it thankfully; and indeed, if otherwise, I must listen to it whether I will or no, since I have at present no choice of company or of conversation.’

‘Nay, I have but little to say,’ said Nixon, affecting to give to his sullen and dogged manner the appearance of an honest bluntness; ‘I am as little apt to throw away words as any one. But here is the question—Will you join heart and hand with your uncle, or no?’

‘What if I should say Aye?’ said Darsie, determined, if possible, to conceal his resolution from this man.

‘Why, then,’ said Nixon, somewhat surprised at the readiness of his answer, ‘all will go smooth, of course—you will take share in this noble undertaking, and, when it succeeds, you will exchange your open helmet for an earl’s coronet perhaps.’

‘And how if it fails?’ said Darsie.

‘Thereafter as it may be,’ said Nixon; ‘they who play at bowls must meet with rubbers.’

‘Well, but suppose, then, I have some foolish tenderness for my windpipe, and that when my uncle proposes the adventure to me I should say No—how then, Mr. Nixon?’

‘Why, then, I would have you look to yourself, young master. There are sharp laws in France against refractory pupils—LETTRES DE CACHET are easily come by when such men as we are concerned with interest themselves in the matter.’

‘But we are not in France,’ said poor Darsie, through whose blood ran a cold shivering at the idea of a French prison.

‘A fast-sailing lugger will soon bring you there though, snug stowed under hatches, like a cask of moonlight.’

‘But the French are at peace with us,’ said Darsie, ‘and would not dare’—

‘Why, who would ever hear of you?’ interrupted Nixon; ‘do you imagine that a foreign court would call you up for judgement, and put the sentence of imprisonment in the COURRIER DE L’EUROPE, as they do at the Old Bailey? No, no, young gentleman—the gates of the Bastille, and of Mont Saint Michel, and the Castle of Vincennes, move on d—d easy hinges when they let folk in—not the least jar is heard. There are cool cells there for hot heads—as calm, and quiet, and dark, as you could wish in Bedlam—and the dismissal comes when the carpenter brings the prisoner’s coffin, and not sooner.’

‘Well, Mr. Nixon,’ said Darsie, affecting a cheerfulness which he was far from feeling, ‘mine is a hard case—a sort of hanging choice, you will allow—since I must either offend our own government here and run the risk of my life for doing so, or be doomed to the dungeons of another country, whose laws I have never offended since I have never trod its soil—Tell me what you would do if you were in my place.

‘I’ll tell you that when I am there,’ said Nixon, and, checking his horse, fell back to the rear of the little party.

‘It is evident,’ thought the young man, ‘that the villain believes me completely noosed, and perhaps has the ineffable impudence to suppose that my sister must eventually succeed to the possessions which have occasioned my loss of freedom, and that his own influence over the destinies of our unhappy family may secure him possession of the heiress; but he shall perish by my hand first!—I must now be on the alert to make my escape, if possible, before I am forced on shipboard. Blind Willie will not, I think, desert me without an effort on my behalf, especially if he has learned that I am the son of his late unhappy patron. What a change is mine! Whilst I possessed neither rank nor fortune, I lived safely and unknown, under the protection of the kind and respectable friends whose hearts Heaven had moved towards me. Now that I am the head of an honourable house, and that enterprises of the most daring character await my decision, and retainers and vassals seem ready to rise at my beck, my safety consists chiefly in the attachment of a blind stroller!’

While he was revolving these things in his mind, and preparing himself for the interview with his uncle which could not but be a stormy one, he saw Hugh Redgauntlet come riding slowly back to meet them without any attendants. Cristal Nixon rode up as he approached, and, as they met, fixed on him a look of inquiry.

‘The fool, Crackenthorp,’ said Redgauntlet, has let strangers into his house. Some of his smuggling comrades, I believe; we must ride slowly to give him time to send them packing.’

‘Did you see any of your friends?’ said Cristal.

‘Three, and have letters from many more. They are unanimous on the subject you wot of—and the point must be conceded to them, or, far as the matter has gone, it will go no further.’

‘You will hardly bring the father to stoop to his flock,’ said Cristal, with a sneer.

‘He must and shall!’ answered Redgauntlet, briefly. ‘Go to the front, Cristal—I would speak with my nephew. I trust, Sir Arthur Redgauntlet, you are satisfied with the manner in which I have discharged