Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'Yes; robbers from the neighbouring Highlands. We used to be quite free
from them while we paid blackmail to Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich Ian Vohr;
but my father thought it unworthy of his rank and birth to pay it any
longer, and so this disaster has happened. It is not the value of the
cattle, Captain Waverley, that vexes me; but my father is so much hurt
at the affront, and is so bold and hot, that I fear he will try to
recover them by the strong hand; and if he is not hurt himself, he will
hurt some of these wild people, and then there will be no peace between
them and us perhaps for our lifetime; and we cannot defend ourselves as
is old times, for the government have taken all our arms; and my dear
father is so rash--Oh, what will become of us!'--Here poor Rose lost
heart altogether, and burst into a flood of tears.
The Baron entered at this moment, and rebuked her with more asperity
than Waverley had ever heard him use to any one. 'Was it not a shame,'
he said, 'that she should exhibit herself before any gentleman in such
a light, as if she shed tears for a drove of horned nolt and milch kine,
like the daughter of a Cheshire yeoman! Captain Waverley, I must request
your favourable construction of her grief, which may, or ought to
proceed, solely from seeing her father's estate exposed to spulzie and
depredation from common thieves and sornars, [Sornars may be translated
sturdy beggars, more especially indicating those unwelcome visitors who
exact lodgings and victuals by force, or something approaching to it.]
while we are not allowed to keep half a score of muskets, whether for
defence or rescue.'
Bailie Macwheeble entered immediately afterwards, and by his report of
arms and ammunition confirmed this statement, informing the Baron, in
a melancholy voice, that though the people would certainly obey his
honour's orders, yet there was no chance of their following the gear to
ony guid purpose, in respect there were only his honour's body servants
who had swords and pistols, and the depredators were twelve Highlanders,
completely armed after the manner of their country.--Having delivered
this doleful annunciation, he assumed a posture of silent dejection,
shaking his head slowly with the motion of a pendulum when it is ceasing
to vibrate, and then remained stationary, his body stooping at a more
acute angle than usual, and the latter part of his person projecting in
proportion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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