Red Cap Tales | Page 4

election. But Sweetheart, waiting till the brawlers
were somewhat breathed, indicated the final sense of the meeting by
saying quietly, "Tell us the one the hand was writing!"

RED CAP TALES
TOLD FROM
WAVERLEY

THE FIRST TALE FROM "WAVERLEY"[1]
I. GOOD-BYE TO WAVERLEY-HONOUR
ON a certain Sunday evening, toward the middle of the eighteenth
century, a young man stood practising the guards of the broadsword in
the library of an old English manor-house. The young man was Captain
Edward Waverley, recently assigned to the command of a company in
Gardiner's regiment of dragoons, and his uncle was coming in to say a
few words to him before he set out to join the colours.
Being a soldier and a hero, Edward Waverley was naturally tall and
handsome, but, owing to the manner of his education, his uncle, an high
Jacobite of the old school, held that he was "somewhat too bookish" for
a proper man. He must therefore see a little of the world, asserted old
Sir Everard.
His Aunt Rachel had another reason for wishing him to leave
Waverley-Honour. She had actually observed her Edward look too
often across at the Squire's pew in church! Now Aunt Rachel held it no
wrong to look at Squire Stubbs's pew if only that pew had been empty.
But it was (oh, wickedness!) just when it contained the dear
old-fashioned sprigged gown and the fresh pretty face of Miss Cecilia
Stubbs, that Aunt Rachel's nephew looked most often in that direction.
In addition to which the old lady was sure she had observed "that little
Celie Stubbs" glance over at her handsome Edward in a way that--well,
when she was young! And here the old lady bridled and tossed her head,
and the words which her lips formed themselves to utter (though she
was too ladylike to speak them) were obviously "The Minx!" Hence it
was clear to the most simple and unprejudiced that a greater distance
had better be put between the Waverley loft and the Squire's pew--and
that as soon as possible.
Edward's uncle, Sir Everard, had wished him to travel abroad in
company with his tutor, a staunch Jacobite clergyman by the name of
Mr. Pembroke. But to this Edward's father, who was a member of the

government, unexpectedly refused his sanction. Now Sir Everard
despised his younger brother as a turncoat (and indeed something little
better than a spy), but he could not gainsay a father's authority, even
though he himself had brought the boy up to be his heir.
"I am willing that you should be a soldier," he said to Edward; "your
ancestors have always been of that profession. Be brave like them, but
not rash. Remember you are the last of the Waverleys and the hope of
the house. Keep no company with gamblers, with rakes, or with Whigs.
Do your duty to God, to the Church of England, and--" He was going to
say "to the King," when he remembered that by his father's wish
Edward was going to fight the battles of King George. So the old
Jacobite finished off rather lamely by repeating, "to the Church of
England and all constituted authorities!"
Then the old man, not trusting himself to say more, broke off abruptly
and went down to the stables to choose the horses which were to carry
Edward to the north. Finally, he delivered into the hands of his nephew
an important letter addressed as follows:--
"To Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esquire of Bradwardine, at his
principal mansion of Tully-Veolan in Perthshire, North
Britain,--These.--"
For that was the dignified way in which men of rank directed their
letters in those days.
The leave-taking of Mr. Pembroke, Edward's tutor, was even longer
and more solemn. And had Edward attended in the least to his
moralisings, he might have felt somewhat depressed. In conclusion, the
good clergyman presented him with several pounds of foolscap, closely
written over in a neat hand.
"These," he said, handling the sheets reverently, "are purposely written
small that they may be convenient to keep by you in your saddle-bags.
They are my works--my unpublished works. They will teach you the
real fundamental principles of the Church, principles concerning which,
while you have been my pupil, I have been under obligation never to

speak to you. But now as you read them, I doubt not but that the light
will come upon you! At all events, I have cleared my conscience."
Edward, in the quiet of his chamber, glanced at the heading of the first:
A Dissent from Dissenters or the Comprehension Confuted. He felt the
weight and thickness of the manuscript, and promptly confuted their
author by consigning the package to that particular corner of his
travelling trunk where he was least likely to come across it again.
On the