Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
The Highlander eyed the blue vault, but far from blessing the useful
light with Homer’s, or rather Pope’s benighted peasant, he muttered a
Gaelic curse upon the unseasonable splendour of _MacFarlane’s buat_
(_i.e._ lantern[26]). He looked anxiously around for a few minutes, and
then apparently took his resolution. Leaving his attendant with
Waverley, after motioning to Edward to remain quiet, and giving his
comrade directions in a brief whisper, he retreated, favoured by the
irregularity of the ground, in the same direction and in the same
manner as they had advanced. Edward, turning his head after him, could
perceive him crawling on all fours with the dexterity of an Indian,
availing himself of every bush and inequality to escape observation,
and never passing over the more exposed parts of his track until the
sentinel’s back was turned from him. At length he reached the thickets
and underwood which partly covered the moor in that direction, and
probably extended to the verge of the glen where Waverley had been so
long an inhabitant. The Highlander disappeared, but it was only for a
few minutes, for he suddenly issued forth from a different part of the
thicket, and, advancing boldly upon the open heath as if to invite
discovery, he levelled his piece and fired at the sentinel. A wound in
the arm proved a disagreeable interruption to the poor fellow’s
meteorological observations, as well as to the tune of “Nancy Dawson,”
which he was whistling. He returned the fire ineffectually, and his
comrades, starting up at the alarm, advanced alertly towards the spot
from which the first shot had issued. The Highlander, after giving them
a full view of his person, dived among the thickets, for his _ruse de
guerre_ had now perfectly succeeded.
While the soldiers pursued the cause of their disturbance in one
direction, Waverley, adopting the hint of his remaining attendant, made
the best of his speed in that which his guide originally intended to
pursue, and which now (the attention of the soldiers being drawn to a
different quarter) was unobserved and unguarded. When they had run
about a quarter of a mile, the brow of a rising ground which they had
surmounted concealed them from further risk of observation. They still
heard, however, at a distance the shouts of the soldiers as they
hallooed to each other upon the heath, and they could also hear the
distant roll of a drum beating to arms in the same direction. But these
hostile sounds were now far in their rear, and died away upon the
breeze as they rapidly proceeded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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