Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 68, No 422, December 1850

Presently Alexis, who had been overwhelmed by the greetings of old acquaintances and playmates, returned to his uncle's party. He started at sight of the Englishman.

"How now!" he exclaimed; "you here, my good sir? By what chance?"

The stranger evidently shared the young man's surprise at their meeting. Hastily quitting his seat, he took Alexis by the arm, and led him out of the throng. At a short distance off, but out of all earshot, Wirtig saw them walking up and down, the Englishman talking and gesticulating with great earnestness, Alexis listening with smiling attention. The host of the Bear sat in deep thought, his eyes riveted upon the Englishman.

"Caleb," he suddenly demanded of the old waiter, who was moistening his larynx with a mug of cider – "Caleb, how came yon gentleman to our hostelry?"

"On horseback, Master Wirtig," replied Caleb, mustering up his reminiscences of the Tales of my Landlord, "on a gallant bay gelding. His honour wore spatterdashes, such as they wear to hunt the fox, I believe, in his country. His cane hung from his button; and if it so please ye, Master Wirtig, I will describe his horse furniture as well as my poor old memory will permit."

"Enough!" said Wirtig, impatiently. "Whence comes the traveller, and whither is he bound?"

Caleb shrugged his shoulders.

"Has he written his name in the strangers' book?"

"He has so, Master Wirtig, after long entreaty; for at first he steadfastly refused. At last he wrote it. 'Let none see this,' he said, 'save your master; and let him be discreet, or – '"

"Glorious!" interrupted Wirtig, and, in the joy of his heart, was near embracing his astonished servant. "I had a presentiment of it, but say – his name?"

Caleb looked embarrassed. "You alone were to see it, Master Wirtig, and I – you know I am not very good at reading writing. I looked into the book, but – "

"How looked the word, fellow?"

"To me it looked a good deal like a blot."

"Now, by St Bennet of Seyton! thou art the dullest knave that ever wore green apron! How many letters?"

Caleb scratched his head. "Hard to say exactly; but not more than five, I would wager that."

"Five! Varlet, thou rejoicest me. Heavens! that such good fortune should be mine! Run, man, run as you never ran before! Bid Jenny kill, roast and boil! A great supper! Scottish cookery! The oak-table shall groan with its load of sack, ale, and whisky. Let Quentin put the horses to, and fetch us with the carriage. Rob Roy must go round to all the best houses, and invite the neighbours. Tell Rowena to leave the goats, and help Jenny in the kitchen. By my halidome! I had almost forgotten. Old Edith must sweep out the ballroom, and Front-de-Bœuf put wax-lights in the chandeliers. Go! run! fly!"

Caleb disappeared. In his place came a crowd of the innkeeper's friends and gossips. "What now? What is up?" was asked on all sides. And Wirtig exultingly replied: – "A feast! a banquet! such as the walls of the Bear of Bradwardine never yet beheld. For they are this day honoured by the presence of the most welcome guest that ever trod the streets of Miffelstein. Wine shall flow like water, and there's welcome to all the world."

Breaking through the inquisitive throng, Wirtig hurried to meet Alexis, who was now returning alone from his mysterious conference with the stranger.

"Well?" cried the uncle, with beaming countenance and expanded eyes.

"Well?" coolly replied the nephew.

"Is it he, or is it not?"

"Who?"

"Who? Now, by the soul of St Edward! thou hast sworn to drive me mad. You say you have not been in Scotland? Was it in Paris you knew him? Or do you think I am blind? Is not that his noble Scottish countenance? the high cheek-bones – the sharp gray eyes – the large mouth, and the bold expression? And then the lame foot, and five letters! What would you have more?"

"Really, uncle, I would have nothing more."

"Obstinate fellow! you will explain nothing! But the portrait, the face, the five letters – your mystery is useless – the secret is out – the stranger is – Scott!"

"Scott!" cried Alexis, greatly surprised. "How do you know that?"

"Enough! I know it. 'Tis the Great Unknown! Shame on you, Alexis, to try to deceive your uncle! Tell the great man, with whom you, unworthy that you are, have been so fortunate as to make acquaintance, that his incognito shall be respected, as surely as I bear an English heart in my bosom. By the rood, shall it! For all Miffelstein he shall be the Unknown. But I crave his good leave to celebrate his coming."

"I will answer for his making no objection," replied Alexis, who apparently struggled with some inward emotion, for his voice was tremulous, his face very red, and his eyes were steadfastly fixed on the toes of his boots.

"Answer for yourself, Sir Architect!" said his uncle, somewhat sharply. Then, in a lower and confidential tone, "Where is the immortal genius?" he inquired.

"If I mistake not," replied Alexis, "I see him yonder, eating curds and pumpernickel."

"Ah, the great man!" ejaculated Wirtig; "to condescend to food so unworthy of his illustrious jaws. And see, he is about to fire off the mortar! Engaging familiarity! Boom! The loudest report to-day! The piece is mine, though it cost me a thousand florins! It shall be christened Walter Scott!"

"Hush, hush!" interposed Alexis; "if you go on in this way, the incognito will be in danger. And he himself must not perceive that you – "

"True!" interrupted the excited Wirtig, clapping his hand on his lips. "Ah, could I but speak Gaelic, or even English, the better to commune with the inspired bard! But he has translated Goetz von Berlichingen, so must understand the pure German of Miffelstein. But now tell me, Alexis, in strict confidence, how comes the first of the world's poets in our poor village? Has he, perchance, heard of the Bear of Bradwardine, and of his faithful clansman, John Jacob Wirtig? Or does he seek subject for a new romance, and propose to place his hero at Miffelstein, as he conducted Durward to Plessis-les-Tours, and the brave knight Kenneth to Palestine?"

"Neither the one nor the other, my dear uncle, unfortunately for us," replied Alexis thoughtfully, and pausing between his sentences. "Trusting to your discretion, and to convince you of its necessity, I will not conceal from you that a great peril has brought the Author of Waverley to Miffelstein. You must know that he has just published an historical romance, in which, availing himself of the novelist's license, he has represented Charlemagne and Henry the Fourth of France vanquished in single combat by William Wallace and Robert the Bruce. A French general, taking offence at this, has insisted upon his retracting the statement, or fighting a duel with blunderbusses at six paces. Of course a man of honour cannot retract – "

"Of course not! Never did Scottish chief so demean himself! I see it all. The – Unknown has shot the general, and – "

"On the contrary, uncle. He does not want to be shot by the general, and that is why he is here, where none will look for him."

"What!" cried the host of the Bear, taken very much aback; "but that looks almost like – like a weakness, unknown to his heroes, who so readily bare their blades! I scarcely understand how – "

"You misapprehend me," interrupted Alexis: "the baronet only asks to put off the duel until he has finished a dozen novels, each in three volumes, which he has in progress. And as the Vandal refuses to wait – "

"I see it all!" cried Wirtig, perfectly satisfied: "the Unknown is right. What! the base Frenchman would rob the world of twelve masterpieces! Not so. In Miffelstein is safe hiding for the Genius of his century. Montjoie, and to the rescue! Let him wrap himself in his plaid, and fear no foe! I will cover him with my target, and my life shall answer for his! Where should he find refuge, if not in the shadow of the Bear?"

Meanwhile, taking advantage of Wirtig's relaxed vigilance, Elben had stolen to Emily's side.

"What is the matter with your father to-day?" said the lovesick attorney to his mistress, when Wirtig and Alexis walked away in the direction of the mortar, and the crowd that had assembled round the host of the Bear dispersed, laughing and shaking their heads. "What new crotchet possesses him, and whence comes his extraordinary excitement and exultation?"

Emily pressed her lover's hand, and the tears stood in her sentimental blue eyes.

"William," she said, "I greatly fear that all is over with our dearest hopes. I am oppressed with a presentiment of misfortune. My father is about to execute an oft-repeated threat. He will force me to wed another!"

"Whom?" cried the unfortunate lawyer, his hair standing on end with alarm: "surely not that rattlepate Alexis? The relationship is too near, and the canon forbids."

"You mistake me, William," replied Emily; "I mean the Englishman. My father's strange agitation – his boundless joy – certain hints that he has let fall – I am convinced he has discovered in this stranger some rich son-in-law for whom he had written to England."

"You pierce my very heart!" plaintively exclaimed Elben. "Unhappy day! Accursed festival, date of my last hope's annihilation! How all this merriment grates upon my soul! So might the condemned soldier feel, marching to execution to the sound of joyous music!"

"William! William! what frightful images!" sobbed Emily from behind her handkerchief.

"Romance! poetry!" continued the incensed attorney; "now, indeed, might I hope to compose some tragic history, which should thrill each reader's heart. Despair not, dearest Emily. There is still justice upon earth. I will bring an action against your father. Or perhaps – from this to the new-year there is yet time to invent tales and write volumes. As to yonder lame foreigner, I will try some other plan with him. By the bye, who knows if he has got a passport? I don't think he has, by his looks. Respectable people do not travel about on horseback. I must find out what he is, and his name."

And Elben was moving off, to commence his investigations, but Emily detained him.

"Such means are unworthy your noble nature, my William," she said. "In your cooler moments you will assuredly reject them."

Elben shrugged his shoulders. "At your command," he said, "even stern Themis would drop the sword. But what can I do? Must I resort to a pistol-ball, or to prussic acid, as sole exit from my misery? That would be unbusinesslike, very unbefitting a respectable attorney. Nor would it rescue you from persecution."

"Is there no way out of this labyrinth?" said Emily pensively, apparently little apprehensive of her lover's resorting to suicide. "No flight from the clutches of this odious foreigner?"

"Flight!" repeated Elben, catching at the word. "What a bold idea!"

"Realise it," said Emily, speaking low and very quickly. "Run away with me!"

The attorney started.

"Raptus!" he exclaimed. "Dearest, what do you propose? The law punishes such an act. The third chapter of our criminal code – "

"You have little chivalry in your nature," interrupted Emily, reproachfully. "You are no Douglas! Leave me, then, to my fate. Alas! poor Emily! to be thus sacrificed ere thy twenty-second summer has fled!"

"Twenty-second!" cried the prosaic lawyer, unheeding the implied inferiority to the Douglas; "there is something in that. I knew not you were of age. You have a right to decline the paternal authority. That alters the case entirely. Since you have completed your one-and-twentieth year, an elopement is less perilous."

The lovers' colloquy was here interrupted by the arrival of Wirtig, accompanied by his nephew and the Englishman. The festival approached its close, and Wirtig, at last missing his daughter, and hearing that she was with Elben, hurried in great alarm to seek her. He was accompanied in his search by Alexis and the lame stranger, who conversed in English.

"Is the innkeeper mad?" inquired the latter. "Does he want to borrow money of me? Or what is he driving at?"

"He merely desires to make himself agreeable to you," replied Alexis.

"The devil take his agreeableness. I hate such fawning ways. You know the unfortunate motive of my visit to Miffelstein. In my position, compliments and ceremony are quite out of place."

"You must nevertheless endure them. They insure your safety. For a few days you must be content to pass for a great man."

"There's none such in my family."

"No matter. Greatness is thrust upon you. Try to persuade yourself that you are the great Scottish Unknown."

"Never heard of him. What has he done?"

"He has written romances."

"Pshaw! I hate your scribblers. For heaven's sake, don't say I am an author."

"Unfortunately I have said so already. For your own sake, beware of contradicting me. It is most unfortunate that you forgot your passport. If Prince Hector of Rauchpfeifenheim learns that you are at Miffelstein, you are no safer here than in his capital."

"Curse my luck," growled the Englishman between his teeth, "and confound all smiths and boiler-makers! Had I but remained in Old England! There, if a boiler does burst, money and a letter in the paper will make all right. But the Continent is worse than a slave-market. No habeas corpus here! A foreigner is no better than an outlaw, and if an accident occurs, he has no bail but leg-bail."

"It is certainly very wrong of the prince to be angry at such a trifle. You were only within a hair's breadth of drowning him and his whole court. However, it is for you to choose whether or not I shall say who you really are."

"Not! certainly not! To get out of this scrape, I would consent to pass for a Yankee. By all means let me be your Unknown friend."

"You shall," said Alexis, laughing; "but on one condition. You must assist me to bring about the happiness of two deserving persons."

"Cost any money?" inquired the stranger suspiciously.

"Not a kreutzer. A few fair words, which I will teach you."

"I am willing. What is to be done? Who are the persons!"

"That pretty girl you were sitting by just now, and her lover, a worthy young man."

"But I do not know him."

"Not necessary."

"Whatever you like, if it costs me neither liberty nor money. Though I would give all the money in my pocket for a scrap of passport. Cursed Continent! In my country, we don't know such things. Had I only – but in my haste to escape the gendarmes, I forgot everything."

It was at this point of the conversation, carried on in English, and therefore unintelligible to Wirtig, that the innkeeper pounced upon his daughter and her lover.

"How now, attorney!" he exclaimed; "what means this? By St Julian of Avenel! who permitted you to walk with my daughter? Tête Dieu! let it be for the last time! I trust thee not, attorney. But this is a happy day, and you shall not be excluded from the banquet in honour of our distinguished visitor. You will be welcome at the Bear of Bradwardine. And what you there shall see and hear will quickly rid you of your prejudices against – "

Alexis trod on the foot of his garrulous uncle. Elben looked daggers at the Englishman. Emily smiled, and sighed.

"Now, your lordship, if it so please ye," quoth Wirtig, in huge delight, "we will return to my poor house. The sun is below the horizon, and the evening dews might endanger your precious health. My forgetful Caleb has assuredly forgotten to send us the carriage."

"I am ready," replied the stranger. "I have had enough and to spare of your rocket practice, and your music makes my head ache."

"The bagpipes are certainly pleasanter to the ear," said Wirtig, submissively, "and I am grieved that I forgot to command Caleb's attendance with them. Pardon the omission. At the house, things shall be better managed. Amy, entertain Sir Wal – "

A crushing application of Alexis' boot-heel to Wirtig's tenderest toe, substituted an exclamation of agony for the second syllable of the forbidden name. The Englishman offered Emily his arm, and a signal from her father compelled its acceptance. By the light of torches, and preceded by a band of music, the Miffelsteiners now moved in long procession homewards, forming a sort of escort for the stranger, who was in front, attended by Wirtig and Alexis. The attorney marched close behind, glaring like a hyena at his supposed rival. Amidst the cracking of fireworks and the reports of guns and pistols, the procession reached the town, and a considerable number of the men went direct to the hotel of the Bear – some eager to profit by the gratuitous good cheer, and others yet more desirous to ascertain its motive. Of this, however, most of Wirtig's guests were by this time aware. Rumours will arise, in small towns as in large cities; and thus it was that at Miffelstein twenty busy tongues whispered the presence of the Great Unknown. At the Bear, Wirtig's liberal instructions had been zealously executed. Caleb, Rowena, Jenny, Front-de-Bœuf, and the rest of the household, had done their duty. The table was loaded with English and Scottish delicacies; the portrait of the Great Unknown – its frame adorned with lamps of many colours – stared somewhat wildly, but, upon the whole, benevolently, from the wall, doubtless well satisfied to see its original doing ample honour to the repast. The appetites of the other guests, which ungratified curiosity might have damped, were sharpened by a confidential communication from the host of the Bear. Notwithstanding his nephew's injunctions to secrecy, Wirtig could not refrain from exhibiting to his friends, before they sat down to supper, and of course in the strictest confidence, the name of W. SCOTT, inscribed upon the last page of the strangers' book. There was no mistaking the characters, blotted and strangely formed though they were. Great were the awe and reverence with which the Miffelsteiners contemplated the stranger, who, for his part, gave his chief attention to his supper. He bolted beefsteaks, reduced fowls to skeletons, and poured down, with infinite gusto, bumper after bumper of Burgundy and Hochheimer. The guests remarked with admiration that he avoided, doubtless with a view to the preservation of his incognito, the Scottish drinks and dishes that adorned the board. He affected disgust at a Miffelstein haggis, and neglected the whisky-bottle for the wines of France and Germany. Once he was observed to smile as he glanced at his portrait, and it was inferred that he was amused at the badness of the likeness, which certainly did little credit to the artist. But he made no remark, excepting that, the next moment, he requested his neighbour to pass him a dish of pork with plum sauce.

Wirtig's discretion was far from equalling that of the Unknown. Seated beside his honoured guest, in the joy of his heart he overwhelmed him with compliments, made countless allusions to his works and genius, and kept his glass constantly full. The stranger let him talk on, and answered nothing, or only by monosyllables. In proportion to the flattery and attentions lavished by Wirtig, were the sadness and sullenness of Elben the attorney. He had arrived later than the other guests. Seated at one end of the table, he looked Medusas at the Unknown.

"What think you, nephew," said Wirtig aside, "if I were to send for Amy and her harp to entertain our illustrious visitor? The bagpipes he has forbidden."

"An excellent thought," replied Alexis; "but it cannot be, for Caleb tells me that my cousin has retired to her apartment, complaining of a violent headache."

"Mere woman's fancies!" grumbled the father. "Amy is no Die Vernon. Did the girl but know whom our roof this day shelters – St George of Burgundy how gladly would she come! How warm would be her welcome of him she is bound to love and reverence!"

Elben overheard these last words, and smiled a grim smile. Owing to his tardy arrival and mental preoccupation, he was unaware of the real motive of the attentions paid to the stranger, and still believed him to be a favoured candidate for the hand of Emily.

The Unknown had finished his pork and plums, and was resting on his knife and fork.

"Where is Miss Amy?" said he, at last, looking particularly tender, either at thoughts of the young lady or at sight of a dish of partridges just then placed smoking before him. The jealous attorney could stand it no longer. Starting from his chair, he rushed from the room.

Wirtig apologised for his daughter's absence, and resumed his complimentary strain.

"By our Lady of Cléry, noble sir!" he said, "the productions of your genius have delighted my understanding, and made my house to prosper. I am under the greatest obligations to you, and my debt of gratitude is doubled by the honour of your visit. I pray you to command me in all things."

The stranger seemed embarrassed by this excessive homage. Just then Alexis spoke a few words to him in English. The Unknown emptied his glass, laid his finger thoughtfully on his nose, and, after a minute's pause, turned to his entertainer.

"You consider yourself under obligations to me?" he said. "I take you at your word. Prove your sincerity."

"In purse and person, hand and heart, command me," cried Wirtig, "Lord of the Isles and most honourable baronet. Do you lack money? What I have is yours. Do you desire protection from the bloodthirsty Frenchman? In my house you shall find shelter. In your defence, I and mine will don tartan, gird claymore, and shoulder Lochaber axe."

"You are a gentleman," said the Englishman, looking rather puzzled, "and I thank you for your good will, but have no need of your money. The favour I would ask is not for myself, but for others. Consent to your daughter's marriage with the man of her choice. You will do me a great pleasure."

"Ha!" quoth the mystified Wirtig. "Blows the wind from that quarter? The sly puss has enlisted a powerful ally. Pasques Dieu! 'Tis a mere trifle you ask, worshipful sir. I had gladly seen you tax my gratitude more largely."

"Consent without delay," whispered Alexis to his uncle. "Let not the great man think you hesitate."

"With all my heart," said Wirtig. "I had certainly made a condition, and would gladly – but will Amy be happy with the prosaic attorney?"

Once more the Great Unknown laid his finger solemnly upon his nose. "Undoubtedly," he said, tossing off another bumper of his host's best Burgundy. He spoke rather thick, and his eyes had a fixed and glassy look. "Undoubtedly," he repeated, as if speaking to himself. Just then Caleb and Front-de-bœuf placed a fresh battery of bottles on table and sideboard. "Upon my soul," added the stranger, in English, "this old tavern-keeper is a jolly fellow, and his Burgundy is prime." He nodded oracularly, and again filled his glass.

"Listen to him!" said Alexis to his uncle, who hung upon each sound that issued from his idol's lips. "He prophesies! The second-sight is upon him! He foretells their happiness. Consent at once!"

"The second-sight!" exclaimed Wirtig reverently. "Nay, then, in heaven's name, be it as he wishes! I freely give my consent!"

Alexis would fain have left the room to seek Elben, and inform him of his good fortune; but his uncle would not spare him. The Englishman continued to imbibe the Burgundy, the other guests zealously followed his example, conviviality was at its height, songs were sung, and the evening wore on. During a tumultuous chorus of hurrahs, elicited by an impromptu allusion to the guest of the evening, introduced by the Miffelstein poet into a bacchanalian ditty, Caleb entered the room with an important countenance, and beckoned Alexis from the table. A foreigner, he said, who spoke more French than German, was making anxious inquiries about one Schott or Scott, and insisted upon seeing the landlord. At first somewhat staggered by this intelligence, which threatened destruction to his schemes, the ready-witted architect soon hit upon a remedy. Sending Caleb to announce to the stranger his master's speedy appearance, he called Wirtig aside.

"Uncle," he said, "the moment for decisive action has arrived. The French general is below. He is on the track of the Great Unknown, and insists that he is here. Keep him at bay for a while, and I will contrive the escape of your illustrious guest. Above all, parley not with the false Frenchman."

"Ha! Beauséant!" exclaimed the valorous and enthusiastic Wirtig. "Is it indeed so? Methinks there will be cut-and-thrust work ere the proud Norman reach his prey. Ha! St Andrew! he shall have a right Scottish answer. And though he were the bravest knight that ever put foot in stirrup – "