Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
Mr. Ebenezer Cruickshanks now stood forth, and communicated to the
magistrate all he knew or suspected, from the reserve of Waverley, and
the evasions of Callum Beg. The horse upon which Edward rode, he said he
knew to belong to Vich Ian Vohr, though he dared not tax Edward's former
attendant with the fact, lest he should have his house and stables
burnt over his head some night by that godless gang, the Mac-Ivors. He
concluded by exaggerating his own services to kirk and state, as having
been the means, under God (as he modestly qualified the assertion), of
attaching this suspicious and formidable delinquent. He intimated hopes
of future reward, and of instant reimbursement for loss of time, and
even of character, by travelling on the state business on the fast-day.
To this Major Melville answered, with great composure, that so far from
claiming any merit in this affair, Mr. Cruickshanks ought to deprecate
the imposition of a very heavy fine for neglecting to lodge, in terms of
the recent proclamation, an account with the nearest magistrate of any
stranger who came to his inn; that as Mr. Cruickshanks boasted so
much of religion and loyalty, he should not impute this conduct to
disaffection, but only suppose that his zeal for kirk and state had
been lulled asleep by the opportunity of charging a stranger with double
horse-hire; that, however, feeling himself incompetent to decide singly
upon the conduct of a person of such importance, he should reserve it
for consideration of the next quarter-sessions. Now our history for the
present saith no more of him of the Candlestick, who wended dolorous and
malcontent back to his own dwelling.
Major Melville then commanded the villagers to return to their homes,
excepting two, who officiated as constables, and whom he directed to
wait below. The apartment was thus cleared of every person but Mr.
Morton, whom the Major invited to remain; a sort of factor, who acted
as clerk; and Waverley himself. There ensued a painful and embarrassed
pause, till Major Melville, looking upon Waverley with much compassion,
and often consulting a paper or memorandum which he held in his hand,
requested to know his name.--'Edward Waverley.'
'I thought so; late of the--dragoons, and nephew of Sir Everard Waverley
of Waverley-Honour?'
'The same.'
'Young gentleman, I am extremely sorry that this painful duty has fallen
to my lot.'
'Duty, Major Melville, renders apologies superfluous.'
'True, sir; permit me, therefore, to ask you how your time has been
disposed of since you obtained leave of absence from your regiment,
several weeks ago, until the present moment?'
'My reply,' said Waverley, 'to so general a question must be guided by
the nature of the charge which renders it necessary. I request to know
what that charge is, and upon what authority I am forcibly detained to
reply to it?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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