书城公版WAVERLEY
19884100000213

第213章

To-morrow? Oh, that's sudden! Spare him! spare him!

Shakspeare.

Edward, attended by his former servant Alick Polwarth, who had re-entered his service at Edinburgh, reached Carlisle while the commission of Oyer and Terminer on his unfortunate associates was yet sitting.He had pushed forward in haste---not, alas! with the most distant hope of saving Fergus, but to see him for the last time.I ought to have mentioned that he had furnished funds for the defence of the prisoners in the most liberal manner, as soon as he heard that the day of trial was fixed.A solicitor, and the first counsel, accordingly attended;but it was upon the same footing on which the first physicians are usually summoned to the bedside of some dying man of rank;---the doctors to take the advantage of some incalculable chance of an exertion of nature---the lawyers to avail themselves of the barely possible occurrence of some legal flaw.Edward pressed into the court, which was extremely crowded; but by his arriving from the north, and his extreme eagerness and agitation, it was supposed he was a relation of the prisoners, and people made way for him.It was the third sitting of the court, and there were two men at the bar.The verdict of =Guilty= was already pronounced.Edward just glanced at the bar during the momentous pause which ensued.There was no mistaking the stately form and noble features of Fergus Mac-Ivor, although his dress was squalid and his countenance tinged with the sickly yellow hue of long and close imprisonment.

By his side was Evan Maccombich.Edward felt sick and dizzy as he gazed on them; but he was recalled to himself as the Clerk of the Arraigns pronounced the solemn words: ``Fergus Mac-Ivor of Glennaquoich, otherwise called Vich Ian Vohr, and Evan Mac-Ivor, in the Dhu of Tarrascleugh, otherwise called Evan Dhu, otherwise called Evan Maccombich, or Evan Dhu Maccombich---you, and each of you, stand attainted of high treason.What have you to say for yourselves why the Court should not pronounce judgment against you, that you die according to law?''

Fergus, as the presiding Judge was putting on the fatal cap of judgment, placed his own bonnet upon his head, regarded him with a steadfast and stern look, and replied in a firm voice, ``I cannot let this numerous audience suppose that to such an appeal I have no answer to make.But what I have to say, you would not bear to hear, for my defence would be your condemnation.Proceed, then, in the name of God, to do what is permitted to you.Yesterday, and the day before, you have condemned loyal and honourable blood to be poured forth like water.Spare not mine.Were that of all my ancestors in my veins, I would have peril'd it in this quarrel.'' He resumed his seat, and refused again to rise.

Evan Maccombich looked at him with great earnestness, and, rising up, seemed anxious to speak; but the confusion of the court, and the perplexity arising from thinking in a language different from that in which he was to express himself, kept him silent.There was a murmur of compassion among the spectators, from an idea that the poor fellow intended to plead the influence of his superior as an excuse for his crime.The Judge commanded silence, and encouraged Evan to proceed.

``I was only ganging to say, my Lord,'' said Evan, in what he meant to be in an insinuating manner, ``that if your excellent honour, and the honourable Court, would let Vich Ian Vohr go free just this once, and let him gae back to France, and no to trouble King George's government again, that ony six o' the very best of his clan will be willing to be justified in his stead;and if you'll just let me gae down to Glennaquoich, I'll fetch them up to ye mysell, to head or hang, and you may begin wi'

me the very first man.''

Notwithstanding the solemnity of the occasion, a sort of laugh was heard in the court at the extraordinary nature of the proposal.The Judge checked this indecency, and Evan, looking sternly around, when the murmur abated, ``If the Saxon gentlemen are laughing,'' he said, ``because a poor man, such as me, thinks my life, or the life of six of my degree, is worth that of Vich Ian Vhor, it's like enough they may be very right;but if they laugh because they think I would not keep my word, and come back to redeem him, I can tell them they ken neither the heart of a Hielandman, nor the honour of a gentleman.''

There was no further inclination to laugh among the audience, and a dead silence ensued.

The Judge then pronounced upon both prisoners the sentence of the law of high treason, with all its horrible accompaniments.

The execution was appointed for the ensuing day.``For you, Fergus Mac-Ivor,'' continued the Judge, ``I can hold out no hope of mercy.You must prepare against to-morrow for your last sufferings here, and your great audit hereafter.''

``I desire nothing else, my lord,'' answered Fergus, in the same manly and firm tone.

The hard eyes of Evan, which had been perpetually bent on his Chief, were moistened with a tear.``For you, poor ignorant man,'' continued the Judge, ``who, following the ideas in which you have been educated, have this day given us a striking example how the loyalty due to the king and state alone, is, from your unhappy ideas of clanship, transferred to some ambitious individual, who ends by making you the tool of his crimes ---for you, I say, I feel so much compassion, that if you can make up your mind to petition for grace, I will endeavour to procure it for you.Otherwise''------``Grace me no grace,'' said Evan; ``since you are to shed Vich Ian Vohr's blood, the only favour I would accept from you is---to bid them loose my hands and gie me my claymore, and bide you just a minute sitting where you are!''

``Remove the prisoners,'' said the Judge; ``his blood be upon his own head.''