Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1Scott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'It is not,' said Evan, imperiously. 'Do you think he would come
to meet a Sassenach duinhe-wassel in such a way as that?'
But as they approached a little nearer, he said, with an
appearance of mortification, 'And it is even he, sure enough; and
he has not his tail on after all; there is no living creature with
him but Callum Beg.'
In fact, Fergus Mac-Ivor, of whom a Frenchman might have said as
truly as of any man in the Highlands, 'Qu'il connoit bien ses
gens' had no idea of raising himself in the eyes of an English
young man of fortune by appearing with a retinue of idle
Highlanders disproportioned to the occasion. He was well aware
that such an unnecessary attendance would seem to Edward rather
ludicrous than respectable; and, while few men were more attached
to ideas of chieftainship and feudal power, he was, for that very
reason, cautious of exhibiting external marks of dignity, unless
at the time and in the manner when they were most likely to
produce an imposing effect. Therefore, although, had he been to
receive a brother chieftain, he would probably have been attended
by all that retinue which Evan described with so much unction, he
judged it more respectable to advance to meet Waverley with a
single attendant, a very handsome Highland boy, who carried his
master's shooting-pouch and his broadsword, without which he
seldom went abroad.
When Fergus and Waverley met, the latter was struck with the
peculiar grace and dignity of the Chieftain's figure. Above the
middle size and finely proportioned, the Highland dress, which he
wore in its simplest mode, set off his person to great advantage.
He wore the trews, or close trowsers, made of tartan, chequed
scarlet and white; in other particulars his dress strictly
resembled Evan's, excepting that he had no weapon save a dirk,
very richly mounted with silver. His page, as we have said,
carried his claymore; and the fowling-piece, which he held in his
hand, seemed only designed for sport. He had shot in the course of
his walk some young wild-ducks, as, though CLOSE TIME was then
unknown, the broods of grouse were yet too young for the
sportsman. His countenance was decidedly Scottish, with all the
peculiarities of the northern physiognomy, but yet had so little
of its harshness and exaggeration that it would have been
pronounced in any country extremely handsome. The martial air of
the bonnet, with a single eagle's feather as a distinction, added
much to the manly appearance of his head, which was besides
ornamented with a far more natural and graceful cluster of close
black curls than ever were exposed to sale in Bond Street.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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