He harshly repulsed her, and retired to his own apartment.
The hour of midnight was now chiming. The drum and music had ceased for a few minutes, and the town clocks were distinctly heard; but instantly, upon the stroke, the revelry in the streets commenced afresh, and the mob became still more noisy than before. The light of torches glared in upon them, and for a moment they hid their faces from it, as from something unpleasant and unwelcome. Alice started up, and proposed that she should lead her companion to their room for the night, where she promised soon to join her. Katharine consented, although her fears were so much excited, that she knew sleep to be hopeless and impossible. As Alice returned, she wrapped herself closely in a cloak, and was descending to the door, when she listened at that of her father’s room, and hearing no noise or motion, entered. She beheld him asleep on the sofa, and his breathing was difficult. A table was drawn to his side, and on it lay a portrait of his son, in the character of Hamlet; taken when he bore a prominent part in the histrionic displays of the University. It was in the scene when the Prince of Denmark has become thoroughly convinced that his uncle is the murderer of the former king, and when he glories in the idea, that by the players he has forced conviction into the villain’s heart, and when his mother appears to charge him with his conduct towards that uncle. Her words were written (and the ink was not yet dry) beneath the portrait, “Hamlet, you have your father much offended,” and old Dawson’s shrivelled and white hand was placed pointing to them. This proof of affection, revenge, and imbecility, all mingled together, overcame Alice. For a moment she sunk down upon the couch beside her father, and gently kissed him. She then removed the cane from his grasp, and covered his venerable head. He started up in his dreams, but his eyes were shut.
“My son! oh! will none save him. None? Take my gold—yes all of it. It will forge chains as heavy and as long, as these dismal iron ones, which now bind his tender limbs; aye the body which my own Helen gave me, is shackled. Take my gold, there is the key to my chests, ransack them, and sell me. The gold will make a chamber as large as that horrible cell! Oh! will none save my beautiful boy?”
“I will, I will,” exclaimed his daughter, and she rushed out of the room. She summoned her own waiting maid, to watch over the old man, and then she herself, alone, unattended, left the house to seek her brother through the crowd. The night was beautiful and clear in the sky above, and its lights were brilliant, yet soft; but the illuminations of the town, threw their glare over all around, and completely shamed the stars. Not a breeze was felt, but the wafting of the flames. As the lights in the windows were now almost expiring, and pale faces were seen within, watching by them,—to the imagination an ominous fate for the Pretender seemed to be predicted. But bonfires were blazing in every street, and figures were crowding around them, and rubbing their hands, and dancing in extravagant mirth. The gleam of arms was reflected from soldiers, mingling along with the mob. Crowds were perpetually hurrying past, to behold and make other sights. Not a child, or a woman was to be seen; but all were men, intoxicated and raging, or moving on, more helpless than infants. This almost served to frighten Alice, as she held her way through the midst of them, coming into contact with the rude touch of daring strength, or the feeble clutch of old age; yet none interrupted her, save to stare upon her earnest countenance, so young, beautiful, and innocent. Many even seemed disposed to join and escort her to the place of her destination, wherever that might be. Some rather loud whispers were heard, asserting that she must be a friend of the Pretender, proceeding on the errand of blessing, and cheering him, on his dangerous expedition. Still she moved on, apparently indifferent to every thing which might otherwise have been annoying, when some one gently took her by the hand. Suppressing a shriek she started back in terror. But it was a young female who had ventured upon such a liberty, and Alice immediately recognized the young and blind Prophetess of the vale, who said in a quick but low tone,—
“I cannot, young lady, see your face, but your hand is feverish, and your heart is throbbing. And the hour is so late, and the street crowded. Yes, my prophecy will be fulfilled.”
Alice felt that it would, as she listened to her voice, and gazed upon her face. Her features seemed altogether to have lost their happy expression. They were still sweet; but clouded, and sad. “This light,” she resumed, “is not pleasant. It is not that of mountain, vale, and stream. Ah! I heard the young chieftain’s step, so gallant, light, and free; but the cockade waved over his head. Royal was his voice, for I knew something of courts, in another clime. And your brother?—you are now in search of him. I need not inquire. Darkness and death are around all his relations. Start not. He is a rebel, and now pledges, in the presence of Charles Edward, his allegiance to the family of Stuart. Oh, why should I know names and events? Happy I was, when life for me was but to think and feel. But fair one, come on, embrace your brother once more, Come,” and she almost dragged the sinking Alice forward, to hasten her steps. They soon arrived at the Pretender’s palace, but it was guarded by a close band of Highland soldiers. They made a passage however, for them, when Alice shortly explained the purpose of their coming.
“Ay fair lady,” said one “step in, your brother is now Captain Dawson, and a brave and gallant Southern he is.”
“It is true then!” Alice exclaimed with a shriek, while she hid her face in her hands, “he is a traitor and we are all ruined.”
“A traitor!” fiercely exclaimed a kilted mountaineer, whose fiery eyes peered through his shaggy eyebrows, as he rudely grasped her with his left hand, while his right sought the deadly weapon—“Be canny, noo, my leddie, lest Tonald’s tirk may pe seeking te right side o’ te question. Tat pe te way tat Englishers speak of der lawfu Sovereign, tat day must call his gude friends traitors!”
Alice Dawson looked unmoved upon the specimen of barbarous brutality. Her eye gleamed indignantly; which the Scot observing, drily rejoined, by taking his hands from off her and saying, “Is she after wishing to frighten Tonald? Hech, hech! She canna tak te preeks off te Heelandman: and faith Tonald canna tak them off her.”