Bert.—Bertram! Bertram! Why does that name sound so familiar to me?
Meg.—And now, begone! Franco, Franco, guide these strangers on their way to Kippletringan; Kippletringan! Yet stay; let me see your hand. What say these lines of fortunes past? Wandering, and woe, and danger, and crosses in love and friendship! What of the future? Honor, wealth, prosperity, love rewarded and friendship reunited! But what of the present? Ay! there’s a trace, which speaks of danger, of captivity, perchance; but not of death! If you are attacked, be men, and let your hands defend your heads! I will not be far distant from you in the moment of need. And now begone! Fate calls you! Away, away, away! (Exit.)
Act III.
Scene I. Sea-shore, with the castle on the rocks.
Meg.—So, so; his death is purposed; and they have chosen the scene of one murder to commit another. Right! the blood spilt on that spot has long cried for vengeance, and it shall fall upon them. Sebastian, speed to Dinmont and the youth; tell them not to separate for their lives—guide them to the glen near the tower; there let them wait till Glossin and Hatteraick meet in the cavern, and I will join them. Away, and do my bidding! (Exit Sebastian.) Now to send to Mannering; I must remain on the watch myself—Gabriel I dare not trust. Ha! who comes now? ’Tis Abel Sampson, Henry Bertram’s ancient tutor! It shall be so. (Advance.) Stop! I command ye!
Lucy.—She’s mad!
Meg.—No; I am not mad! I’ve been imprisoned for mad, scourged for mad, banished for mad; but mad I am not! Halt, and stand fast, or ye shall rue the day while a limb of you hangs together! Stay, thou tremblest! (Take out an old black whiskey bottle and hold it out to Sampson, left.) Drink of this and put some heart in ye, or I will— Can your learning tell you what that is, eh? Will you remember my errand now? Ay! then tell Colonel Mannering, if ever he owed a debt to the house of Ellangowan, and hopes to see it prosper, he must come instantly, armed and well attended, to the glen, below the tower of Derncleugh, and fail not on his life! You know the spot! Ay, Abel Sampson, there blazed my hearth for many a day! and there, beneath the willow that hung its garlands over the brook, I’ve sat and sung to Harry Bertram, songs of the old time. That tree is wither’d now, never to be
green again, and old Meg Merrilies will never, never sing blythe songs more. But I charge you, Abel Sampson, when the heir shall have his own—as soon as he shall—that you tell him not to forget Meg Merrilies, but to build up the old walls in the glen for her sake, and let those that live there be too good to fear the beings of another world, for, if ever the dead come back among the living, I will be seen in that glen many a night after these crazed old bones are whitened in the mouldering grave! ha! ha! (Laugh and stagger back.)
I have said it, old man! ye shall see him again, and the best lord he shall be that Ellangowan has seen these hundred years. But you’re o’er long here. To Mannering! Away! and bid him come to that spot instantly, or the heir of Ellangowan may perish forever! Away, away! (Exit while speaking the last two words.)"
—Sir Walter Scott.