Why flames yon far summit — why shoot to the blast

Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast?

’Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven

From thine eyrie, that beacons the darkness of Heaven.

CAMPBELL.

THE circumstances announced in the conclusion of the last chapter will account for the ready and cheerful reception of the Marquis of A—— and the Master of Ravenswood in the village of Wolf’s Hope. In fact, Caleb had no sooner announced the conflagration of the tower than the whole hamlet were upon foot to hasten to extinguish the flames. And although that zealous adherent diverted their zeal by intimating the formidable contents of the subterranean apartments, yet the check only turned their assiduity into another direction. Never had there been such slaughtering of capons, and fat geese, and barndoor fowls; never such boiling of “reested” hams; never such making of car-cakes and sweet scones, Selkirk bannocks, cookies, and petticoat-tails — delicacies little known to the present generation. Never had there been such a tapping of barrels, and such uncorking of greybeards, in the village of Wolf’s Hope. All the inferior houses were thrown open for the reception of the Marquis’s dependants, who came, it was thought, as precursors of the shower of preferment which hereafter was to leave the rest of Scotland dry, in order to distil its rich dews on the village of Wolf’s Hope under Lammermoor. The minister put in his claim to have the guests of distinction lodged at the manse, having his eye, it was thought, upon a neighbouring preferment, where the incumbent was sickly; but Mr. Balderstone destined that honour to the cooper, his wife, and wife’s mother, who danced for joy at the preferences thus assigned them.

Many a beck and many a bow welcomed these noble guests to as good entertainment as persons of such rank could set before such visitors; and the old dame, who had formerly lived in Ravenswood Castle, and knew, as she said, the ways of the nobility, was in no whit wanting in arranging matters, as well as circumstances permitted, according to the etiquette of the times. The cooper’s house was so roomy that each guest had his separate retiring-room, to which they were ushered with all due ceremony, while the plentiful supper was in the act of being placed upon the table.

Ravenswood no sooner found himself alone than, impelled by a thousand feelings, he left the apartment, the house, and the village, and hastily retraced his steps to the brow of the hill, which rose betwixt the village and screened it from the tower, in order to view the final fall of the house of his fathers. Some idle boys from the hamlet had taken the same direction out of curiosity, having first witnessed the arrival of the coach and six and its attendants. As they ran one by one past the Master, calling to each other to “Come and see the auld tower blaw up in the lift like the peelings of an ingan,” he could not but feel himself moved with indignation. “And these are the sons of my father’s vassals,” he said —“of men bound, both by law and gratitude, to follow our steps through battle, and fire, and flood; and now the destruction of their liege lord’s house is but a holiday’s sight to them.”

These exasperating reflections were partly expresssed in the acrimony with which he exclaimed, on feeling himself pulled by the cloak: “What do you want, you dog?”

“I am a dog, and an auld dog too,” answered Caleb, for it was he who had taken the freedom, “and I am like to get a dog’s wages; but it does not signification a pinch of sneesing, for I am ower auld a dog to learn new tricks, or to follow a new master.”

As he spoke, Ravenswood attained the ridge of the hill from which Wolf’s Crag was visible; the flames had entirely sunk down, and, to his great surprise, there was only a dusky reddening upon the clouds immediately over the castle, which seemed the reflection of the embers of the sunken fire.

“The place cannot have blown up,” said the Master; “we must have heard the report: if a quarter of the gunpowder was there you tell me of, it would have been heard twenty miles off.”

“It’ve very like it wad,” said Balderstone, composedly.

“Then the fire cannot have reached the vaults?”

“It’s like no,” answered Caleb, with the same impenetrable gravity.

“Hark ye, Caleb,” said his master, “this grows a little too much for my patience. I must go and examine how matters stand at Wolf’s Crag myself.”

“Your honour is ganging to gang nae sic gate,” said Caleb, firmly.

“And why not?” said Ravenswood, sharply; “who or what shall prevent me?”

“Even I mysell,” said Caleb, with the same determination.

“You, Balderstone!” replied the Master; “you are forgetting yourself, I think.”

“But I think no,” said Balderstone; “for I can just tell ye a’ about the castle on this knowe-head as weel as if ye were at it. Only dinna pit yoursell into a kippage, and expose yoursell before the weans, or before the Marquis, when ye gang down-bye.”

“Speak out, you old fool,” replied his master, “and let me know the best and the worst at once.”

“Ou, the best and the warst is, just that the tower is standing hail and feir, as safe and as empty as when ye left it.”

“Indeed! and the fire?” said Ravenswood. “Not a gleed of fire, then, except the bit kindling peat, and maybe a spunk in Mysie’s cutty-pipe,” replied Caleb.

“But the flame?” demanded Ravenswood —“the broad blaze which might have been seen ten miles off — what occasioned that?”

“Hout awa’! it’s an auld saying and a true —

Little’s the light Will be seen far in a mirk night.

A wheen fern and horse little that I fired in the courtyard, after sending back the loon of a footman; and, to speak Heaven’s truth, the next time that ye send or bring ony body here, let them ge gentles allenarly, without ony fremd servants, like that chield Lockhard, to be gledging and gleeing about, and looking upon the wrang side of ane’s housekeeping, to the discredit of the family, and forcing ane to damn their souls wi’ telling ae lee after another faster than I can count them: I wad rather set fire to the tower in gude earnest, and burn it ower my ain head into the bargain, or I see the family dishonoured in the sort.”

“Upon my word, I am infinitely obliged by the proposal, Caleb,” said his master, scarce able to to restrain his laughter, though rather angry at the same time. “But the gunpowder — is there such a thing in the tower? The Marquis seemed to know of it.” “The pouther, ha! ha! ha!— the Marquis, ha! ha! ha!” replied Caleb,—“if your honour were to brain me, I behooved to laugh,— the Marquis — the pouther! Was it there? Ay, it was there. Did he ken o’t? My certie! the Marquis kenn’d o’t, and it was the best o’ the game; for, when I couldna pacify your honour wi’ a’ that I could say, I aye threw out a word mair about the gunpouther, and garr’d the Marquis tak the job in his ain hand.”

“But you have not answered my question,” said the Master, impatiently; “how came the powder there, and where is it now?”

“Ou, it came there, an ye maun needs ken,” said Caleb, looking mysteriously, and whispering, “when there was like to be a wee bit rising here; and the Marquis, and a’ the great lords of the north, were a’ in it, and mony a gudely gun and broadsword were ferried ower frae Dunkirk forbye the pouther. Awfu’ work we had getting them into the tower under cloud o’ night, for ye maun think it wasna everybody could be trusted wi’ sic kittle jobs. But if ye will gae hame to your supper, I will tell you a’ about it as ye gang down.”

“And these wretched boys,” said Ravenswood, “is it your pleasure they are to sit there all night, to wait for the blowing up of a tower that is not even on fire?”

“Surely not, if it is your honour’s pleasure that they suld gang hame; although,” added Caleb, “it wadna do them a grain’s damage: they wad screigh less the next day, and sleep the sounder at e’en. But just as your honour likes.”

Stepping accordingly towards the urchins who manned the knolls near which they stood, Caleb informed them, in an authoritative tone, that their honours Lord Ravenswood and the Marquis of A—— had given orders that the tower was not to be blow up till next day at noon. The boys dispersed upon this comfortable assurance. One or two, however, followed Caleb for more information, particularly the urchin whom he had cheated while officiating as turnspit, who screamed, “Mr. Balderstone!— Mr. Balderstone! then the castle’s gane out like an auld wife’s spunk?”

“To be sure it is, callant,” said the butler; “do ye think the castle of as great a lord as Lord Ravenswood wad continue in a bleeze, and him standing looking on wi’ his ain very een? It’s aye right,” continued Caleb, shaking off his ragged page, and closing in to his Master, “to train up weans, as the wise man says, in the way they should go, and, aboon a’, to teach them respect to their superiors.”

“But all this while, Caleb, you have never told me what became of the arms and powder,” said Ravenswood.

“Why, as for the arms,” said Caleb, “it was just like the bairn’s rhyme —

Some gaed east and some gaed west,

And some gaed to the craw’s nest.

And for the pouther, I e’en changed it, as occasion served, with the skippers o’ Dutch luggers and French vessels, for gin and brandy, and is served the house mony a year — a gude swap too, between what cheereth the soul of man and that which hingeth it clean out of his body; forbye, I keepit a wheen pounds of it for yoursell when ye wanted to take the pleasure o’ shooting: whiles, in these latter days, I wad hardly hae kenn’d else whar to get pouther for your pleasure. And now that your anger is ower, sir, wasna that weel managed o’ me, and arena ye far better sorted doun yonder than ye could hae been in your ain auld ruins up-bye yonder, as the case stands wi’ us now? the mair’s the pity!”

“I believe you may be right, Caleb; but, before burning down my castle, either in jest or in earnest,” said Ravenswood, “I think I had a right to be in the secret.”

“Fie for shame, your honour!” replied Caleb; “it fits an auld carle like me weel eneugh to tell lees for the credit of the family, but it wadna beseem the like o’ your honour’s sell; besides, young folk are no judicious: they cannot make the maist of a bit figment. Now this fire — for a fire it sall be, if I suld burn the auld stable to make it mair feasible — this fire, besides that it will be an excuse for asking ony thing we want through the country, or doun at the haven — this fire will settle mony things on an honourable footing for the family’s credit, that cost me telling twenty daily lees to a wheen idle chaps and queans, and, what’s waur, without gaining credence.” “That was hard indeed, Caleb; but I do not see how this fire should help your veracity or your credit.”

“There it is now?” said Caleb; “wasna I saying that young folk had a green judgment? How suld it help me, quotha? It will be a creditable apology for the honour of the family for this score of years to come, if it is weel guided. ‘Where’s the family picture............