Guy Mannering [196]
each were carefully secured.
These latter sounds, with which we have made the reader acquainted, had their origin in front of the house, and were consequently imperfectly heard by Bertram, whose apartment, as we have already noticed, looked from the back part of the building upon the sea. He heard, however, a stir and tumult in the house, which did not seem to accord with the stern seclusion of a prison at the hour of midnight, and, connecting them with the arrival of an armed boat at that dead hour, could not but suppose that something extraordinary was about to take place. In this belief he shook Dinmont by the shoulder--"Eh!--Ay!--Oh!--Ailie, woman, it's no time to get up yet," growled the sleeping man of the mountains. More roughly shaken, however, he gathered himself up, shook his ears, and asked, "In the name of Providence, what's the matter?"
"That I can't tell you," replied Bertram; "but either the place is on fire, or some extraordinary thing is about to happen. Are you not sensible of a smell of fire? Do you not hear what a noise there is of clashing doors within the house, and of hoarse voices, murmurs, and distant shouts on the outside? Upon my word, I believe something very extraordinary has taken place--Get up, for the love of Heaven, and let us be on our guard."
Dinmont rose at the idea of danger, as intrepid and undismayed as any of his ancestors when the beaconlight was kindled. "Odd, Captain, this is a queer place! they winna let ye out in the day, and they winna let ye sleep in the night. Deil, but it wad break my heart in a fortnight. But, Lordsake, what a racket they're making now! Odd, I wish we had some light. Wasp-Wasp, whisht, hinny--whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear what they're doing.--Deil's in ye, will ye whisht?"
They sought in vain among the embers the means of lighting their candle, and the noise without still continued. Dinmont in his turn had recourse to the window, "Lordsake, Captain! come here.--Odd, they hae broken the Custom-house!"
Bertram hastened to the window, and plainly saw a miscellaneous crowd of smugglers, and blackguards of different descriptions, some carrying lighted torches, others bearing packages and barrels down the lane to the boat that was lying at the quay, to which two or three other fisher-boats were now brought round. They were loading each of these in their turn, and one or two had already put off to seaward. "This speaks for itself," said Bertram; "but I fear something worse has happened. Do you perceive a strong smell of smoke, or is it my fancy?"
"Fancy?" answered Dinmont, "there's a reek like a killogie. [*A lime-kiln.] Odd, if they burn the Custom-house, it will catch here, and we'll lunt [*Burn] like a tar-barrel a' thegither.--Eh! it wad be fearsome to be burnt alive for naething, like as if ane had been a warlock! [*witch]--Mac-Guffog, hear ye!"--roaring at the top of his voice; "an ye wad ever hae a haill bane in your skin, let's out, man! let's out!"
The fire began now to rise high, and thick clouds of smoke rolled past the window, at which Bertram and Dinmont were stationed. Sometimes, as the wind pleased, the dim shroud of vapour hid everything from their sight; sometimes a red glare illuminated both land and sea, and shone full on the stern and fierce figures, who, wild with ferocious activity, were engaged in loading the boats. The fire was at length triumphant, and spouted in jets of flame out at each window of the burning building, while huge flakes of flaming materials came driving on the wind against the adjoining prison, and rolling a dark canopy of smoke over all the neighbourhood. The shouts of a furious mob resounded far and wide; for the smugglers, in their triumph, were joined by all the rabble of the little town and . neighbourhood, now aroused, and in complete agitation, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour; some from interest in the free trade, and most from the general love of mischief and tumult, natural to a vulgar populace.
Bertram began to be seriously anxious for their fate. There was no stir in
These latter sounds, with which we have made the reader acquainted, had their origin in front of the house, and were consequently imperfectly heard by Bertram, whose apartment, as we have already noticed, looked from the back part of the building upon the sea. He heard, however, a stir and tumult in the house, which did not seem to accord with the stern seclusion of a prison at the hour of midnight, and, connecting them with the arrival of an armed boat at that dead hour, could not but suppose that something extraordinary was about to take place. In this belief he shook Dinmont by the shoulder--"Eh!--Ay!--Oh!--Ailie, woman, it's no time to get up yet," growled the sleeping man of the mountains. More roughly shaken, however, he gathered himself up, shook his ears, and asked, "In the name of Providence, what's the matter?"
"That I can't tell you," replied Bertram; "but either the place is on fire, or some extraordinary thing is about to happen. Are you not sensible of a smell of fire? Do you not hear what a noise there is of clashing doors within the house, and of hoarse voices, murmurs, and distant shouts on the outside? Upon my word, I believe something very extraordinary has taken place--Get up, for the love of Heaven, and let us be on our guard."
Dinmont rose at the idea of danger, as intrepid and undismayed as any of his ancestors when the beaconlight was kindled. "Odd, Captain, this is a queer place! they winna let ye out in the day, and they winna let ye sleep in the night. Deil, but it wad break my heart in a fortnight. But, Lordsake, what a racket they're making now! Odd, I wish we had some light. Wasp-Wasp, whisht, hinny--whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear what they're doing.--Deil's in ye, will ye whisht?"
They sought in vain among the embers the means of lighting their candle, and the noise without still continued. Dinmont in his turn had recourse to the window, "Lordsake, Captain! come here.--Odd, they hae broken the Custom-house!"
Bertram hastened to the window, and plainly saw a miscellaneous crowd of smugglers, and blackguards of different descriptions, some carrying lighted torches, others bearing packages and barrels down the lane to the boat that was lying at the quay, to which two or three other fisher-boats were now brought round. They were loading each of these in their turn, and one or two had already put off to seaward. "This speaks for itself," said Bertram; "but I fear something worse has happened. Do you perceive a strong smell of smoke, or is it my fancy?"
"Fancy?" answered Dinmont, "there's a reek like a killogie. [*A lime-kiln.] Odd, if they burn the Custom-house, it will catch here, and we'll lunt [*Burn] like a tar-barrel a' thegither.--Eh! it wad be fearsome to be burnt alive for naething, like as if ane had been a warlock! [*witch]--Mac-Guffog, hear ye!"--roaring at the top of his voice; "an ye wad ever hae a haill bane in your skin, let's out, man! let's out!"
The fire began now to rise high, and thick clouds of smoke rolled past the window, at which Bertram and Dinmont were stationed. Sometimes, as the wind pleased, the dim shroud of vapour hid everything from their sight; sometimes a red glare illuminated both land and sea, and shone full on the stern and fierce figures, who, wild with ferocious activity, were engaged in loading the boats. The fire was at length triumphant, and spouted in jets of flame out at each window of the burning building, while huge flakes of flaming materials came driving on the wind against the adjoining prison, and rolling a dark canopy of smoke over all the neighbourhood. The shouts of a furious mob resounded far and wide; for the smugglers, in their triumph, were joined by all the rabble of the little town and . neighbourhood, now aroused, and in complete agitation, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour; some from interest in the free trade, and most from the general love of mischief and tumult, natural to a vulgar populace.
Bertram began to be seriously anxious for their fate. There was no stir in