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.
When they had walked about half-an-hour, still along open and waste ground of the same description, they came to the stump of an ancient oak, which, from its relics, appeared to have been at one time a tree of very large size.In an adjacent hollow they found several Highlanders, with a horse or two.
They had not joined them above a few minutes, which Waverley's attendant employed, in all probability, in communicating the cause of their delay (for the words ``Duncan Duroch'' were often repeated), when Duncan himself appeared, out of breath indeed, and with all the symptoms of having run for his life, but laughing, and in high spirits at the success of the stratagem by which he had baffled his pursuers.This, indeed, Waverley could easily conceive might be a matter of no great difficulty to the active mountaineer, who was perfectly acquainted with the ground, and traced his course with a firmness and confidence to which his pursuers must have been strangers.The alarm which he excited seemed still to continue, for a dropping shot or two were heard at a great distance, which seemed to serve as an addition to the mirth of Duncan and his comrades.
The mountaineer now resumed the arms with which he had entrusted our hero, giving him to understand that the dangers of the journey were happily surmounted.Waverley was then mounted upon one of the horses, a change which the fatigue of the night and his recent illness rendered exceedingly acceptable.
His portmanteau was placed on another pony, Duncan mounted a third, and they set forward at a round pace, accompanied by their escort.No other incident marked the course of that night's journey, and at the dawn of morning they attained the banks of a rapid river.The country around was at once fertile and romantic.Steep banks of wood were broken by corn fields, which this year presented an abundant harvest, already in a great measure cut down.
On the opposite bank of the river, and partly surrounded by a winding of its stream, stood a large and massive castle, the half-ruined turrets of which were already glittering in the first rays of the sun.<*> It was in form an oblong square, of size * Note Q.Castle of Doune.<! p252>
sufficient to contain a large court in the centre.The towers at each angle of the square rose higher than the walls of the building, and were in their turn surmounted by turrets, differing in height, and irregular in shape.Upon one of these a sentinel watched, whose bonnet and plaid streaming in the wind declared him to be a Highlander, as a broad white ensign, which floated from another tower, announced that the garrison was held by the insurgent adherents of the House of Stuart.
Passing hastily through a small and mean town, where their appearance excited neither surprise nor curiosity in the few peasants whom the labours of the harvest began to summon from their repose, the party crossed an ancient and narrow bridge of several arches, and turning to the left, up an avenue of huge old sycamores, Waverley found himself in front of the gloomy yet picturesque structure which he had admired at a distance.A huge iron-grated door, which formed the exterior defence of the gateway, was already thrown back to receive them; and a second, heavily constructed of oak, and studded thickly with iron nails, being next opened, admitted them into the interior courtyard.A gentleman dressed in the Highland garb, and having a white cockade in his bonnet, assisted Waverley to dismount from his horse, and with much courtesy bid him welcome to the castle.
The governor, for so we must term him, having conducted Waverley to a half-ruinous apartment, where, however, there was a small camp-bed, and having offered him any refreshment which he desired, was then about to leave him.
``Will you not add to your civilities,'' said Waverley, after having made the usual acknowledgment, ``by having the kindness to inform me where I am, and whether or not I am to consider myself as a prisoner?''
``I am not at liberty to be so explicit upon this subject as Icould wish.Briefly, however, you are in the Castle of Doune, in the district of Menteith, and in no danger whatever.''
``And how am I assured of that?''
``By the honour of Donald Stewart, governor of the garrison, and lieutenant-colonel in the service of his Royal Highness Prince Charles Edward.'' So saying, he hastily left the apartment, as if to avoid further discussion.
Exhausted by the fatigues of the night, our hero now threw himself upon the bed, and was in a few minutes fast asleep.