书城公版The Art of Writing
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第181章

Red glared the beacon on Pownell On Skiddaw there were three;The bugle horn on moor and fell Was heard continually.

James Hogg.

The watch who kept his watch on the hill, and looked towards Birnam, probably conceived himself dreaming when he first beheld the fated grove put itself into motion for its march to Dunsinane.Even so old Caxon, as perched in his hut, he qualified his thoughts upon the approaching marriage of his daughter, and the dignity of being father-in-law to Lieutenant Taffril, with an occasional peep towards the signal-post with which his own corresponded, was not a little surprised by observing a light in that direction.He rubbed his eyes, looked again, adjusting his observation by a cross-staff which had been placed so as to bear upon the point.And behold, the light increased, like a comet to the eye of the astronomer, ``with fear of change perplexing nations.''

``The Lord preserve us!'' said Caxon, ``what's to be done now? But there will be wiser heads than mine to look to that, sae I'se e'en fire the beacon.''

And he lighted the beacon accordingly, which threw up to the sky a long wavering train of light, startling the sea-fowl from their nests, and reflected far beneath by the reddening billows of the sea.The brother warders of Caxon being equally diligent, caught, and repeated his signal.The lights glanced on headlands and capes and inland hills, and the whole district was alarmed by the signal of invasion.<*>

* Note J.Alarms of Invasion.

Our Antiquary, his head wrapped warm in two double night-caps, was quietly enjoying his repose, when it was suddenly broken by the screams of his sister, his niece, and two maid-servants.

``What the devil is the matter?'' said he, starting up in his bed--``womankind in my room at this hour of night!--are ye all mad?''

``The beacon, uncle!'' said Miss M`Intyre.

``The French coming to murder us!'' screamed Miss Griselda.

``The beacon! the beacon!--the French! the French!--murder! murder! and waur than murder!''--cried the two handmaidens, like the chorus of an opera.

``The French?'' said Oldbuck, starting up--``get out of the room, womankind that you are, till I get my things on--And hark ye, bring me my sword.''

``Whilk o' them, Monkbarns?'' cried his sister, offering a Roman falchion of brass with the one hand, and with the other an Andrea Ferrara without a handle.

``The langest, the langest,'' cried Jenny Rintherout, dragging in a two-handed sword of the twelfth century.

``Womankind,'' said Oldbuck in great agitation, ``be composed, and do not give way to vain terror--Are you sure they are come?''

``Sure, sure!'' exclaimed Jenny--``ower sure!--a' the sea fencibles, and the land fencibles, and the volunteers and yeomanry, are on fit, and driving to Fairport as hard as horse and man can gang--and auld Mucklebackit's gane wi' the lave--muckle gude he'll do!--Hech, sirs!--_he'll_ be missed the morn wha wad hae served king and country weel!''

``Give me,'' said Oldbuck, ``the sword which my father wore in the year forty-five--it hath no belt or baldrick--but we'll make shift.''

So saying he thrust the weapon through the cover of his breeches pocket.At this moment Hector entered, who had been to a neighbouring height to ascertain whether the alarm was actual.

``Where are your arms, nephew?'' exclaimed Oldbuck--``where is your double-barrelled gun, that was never out of your hand when there was no occasion for such vanities?''

``Pooh! pooh! sir,'' said Hector, ``who ever took a fowling-piece on action? I have got my uniform on, you see--I hope Ishall be of more use if they will give me a command than Icould be with ten double-barrels.And you, sir, must get to Fairport, to give directions for quartering and maintaining the men and horses, and preventing confusion.''

``You are right, Hector,--l believe I shall do as much with my head as my hand too.But here comes Sir Arthur Wardour, who, between ourselves, is not fit to accomplish much either one way or the other.''

Sir Arthur was probably of a different opinion; for, dressed in his lieutenancy uniform, he was also on the road to Fairport, and called in his way to take Mr.Oldbuck with him, having had his original opinion of his sagacity much confirmed by late events.And in spite of all the entreaties of the womankind that the Antiquary would stay to garrison Monkbarns, Mr.Oldbuck, with his nephew, instantly accepted Sir Arthur's offer.

Those who have witnessed such a scene can alone conceive the state of bustle in Fairport.The windows were glancing with a hundred lights, which, appearing and disappearing rapidly, indicated the confusion within doors.The women of lower rank assembled and clamoured in the market-place.The yeomanry, pouring from their different glens, galloped through the streets, some individually, some in parties of five or six, as they had met on the road.The drums and fifes of the volunteers beating to arms, were blended with the voice of the officers, the sound of the bugles, and the tolling of the bells from the steeple.The ships in the harbour were lit up, and boats from the armed vessels added to the bustle, by landing men and guns destined to assist in the defence of the place.This part of the preparations was superintended by Taffril with much activity.

Two or three light vessels had already slipped their cables and stood out to sea, in order to discover the supposed enemy.

Such was the scene of general confusion, when Sir Arthur Wardour, Oldbuck, and Hector, made their way with difficulty into the principal square, where the town-house is situated.It was lighted up, and the magistracy, with many of the neighbouring gentlemen, were assembled.And here, as upon other occasions of the like kind in Scotland, it was remarkable how the good sense and firmness of the people supplied almost all the deficiencies of inexperience.