``Ye say right,---ye say right, friend,'' retorted Gilfillan eagerly, for he was not inaccessible to flattery upon this subject, ---``ye say right; they are the real Lancashire, and there's no the like o' them even at the Mains of Kilmaurs;'' and he then entered into a discussion of their excellences, to which our readers will probably be as indifferent as our hero.After this excursion, the leader returned to his theological discussions, while the pedlar, less profound upon those mystic points, contented himself with groaning, and expressing his edification at suitable intervals.
``What a blessing it would he to the puir blinded popish nations among whom I hae sojourned, to have siccan a light to their paths! I hae been as far as Muscovia in my sma' trading way, as a travelling merchant; and I hae been through France, and the Low Countries, and a' Poland, and maist feck o' Germany;and I! it would grieve your honour's soul to see the murmuring, and the singing, and massing, that's in the kirk, and the piping that's in the quire, and the heathenish dancing and dicing upon the Sabbath!''
This set Gilfillan off upon the Book of Sports and the Covenant, and the Engagers, and the Protesters, and the Whiggamore's Raid and the assembly of Divines at Westminster, and the Longer and Shorter Catechi**, and the Excommunication at Torwood, and the slaughter of Archbishop Sharp.This last topic, again, led him into the lawfulness of defensive arms, on which subject he uttered much more sense than could have been expected from some other parts of his harangue, and attracted even Waverley's attention, who had hitherto been lost in his own sad reflections.Mr.Gilfillan then considered the lawfulness of a private man's standing forth as the avenger of public oppression, and as he was labouring with great earnestness the cause of Mas James Mitchell, who fired at the Archbishop of St.Andrews some years before the prelate's assassination on Magus Muir, an incident occurred which interrupted his harangue.
The rays of the sun were lingering on the very verge of the horizon, as the party ascended a hollow and somewhat steep path, which led to the summit of a rising ground.The country was unenclosed, being part of a very extensive heath or common; but it was far from level, exhibiting in many places hollows filled with furze and broom; in others little dingles of stunted brushwood.
A thicket of the latter description crowned the hill up which the party ascended.The foremost of the band, being the stoutest and most active, had pushed on, and having surmounted the ascent, were out of ken for the present.Gilfillan, with the pedlar, and a small party who were Waverley's more immediate guard, were near the top of the ascent, and the remainder straggled after them at a considerable interval.
Such was the situation of matters, when the pedlar, missing, as he said, a little doggie which belonged to him, began to halt and whistle for the animal.This signal, repeated more than once, gave offence to the rigour of his companion, the rather because it appeared to indicate inattention to the treasures of theological and controversial knowledge which was pouring out for his edification.He therefore signified gruffly, that he could not waste is time in waiting for a useless cur.
``But if your honour would consider the case of Tobit''---``Tobit!'' exclaimed Gilfillan, with great heat; ``Tobit and his dog baith are altogether heathenish and apocryphal, and none but a prelatist or a papist would draw them into question.
I doubt I hae been mista'en in you, friend.''
``Very likely,'' answered the pedlar, with great composure;``but nevertheless, I shall take leave to whistle again upon puir Bawty.''
This last signal was answered in an unexpected manner; for six or eight stout Highlanders, who lurked among the copse and brushwood, sprung into the hollow way, and began to lay about them with their claymores.Gilfillan, unappalled at this undesirable apparition, cried out manfully, ``The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!'' and, drawing his broadsword, would probably have done as much credit to the good old cause as any of its doughty champions at Drumclog, when, behold! the pedlar snatching a musket from the person who was next him, bestowed the butt of it with such emphasis on the head of his late instructor in the Cameronian creed, that he was forthwith levelled to the ground.In the confusion which ensued, the horse which bore our hero was shot by one of Gilfillan's party, as he discharged his fire-lock at random.Waverley fell with, and indeed under, the animal, and sustained some severe contusions.But he was almost instantly extricated from the fallen steed by two Highlanders, who, each seizing him by the arm, hurried him away from the scuffle and from the high-road.They ran with great speed, half supporting and half dragging our hero, who could, however, distinguish a few dropping shots fired about the spot which he had left.This, as he afterwards learned, proceeded from Gilfillan's party, who had now assembled, the stragglers in front and rear having joined the others.At their approach, the Highlanders drew off, but not before they had rifled Gilfillan and two of his people, who remained on the spot grievously wounded.A few shots were exchanged betwixt them and the Westlanders; but the latter, now without a commander, and apprehensive of a second ambush, did not make any serious effort to recover their prisoner, judging it more wise to proceed on their journey to Stirling, carrying with them their wounded captain and comrades.
