Guy Mannering [143]
at Lockerby fair.--But I dinna ken--we're baith gey good at single-stick, and it couldna weel be judged."
"Then take broadswords, and be d-d to you, as your fathers did before you," said the counsel learned in the law.
"Aweel, sir, if ye think it wadna be again the law, it's a' ane to Dandie."
"Hold! Hold!" exclaimed Pleydell, "we shall have another Lord Soulis' mistake--Pr'ythee, man, comprehend me; I wish you to consider how very trifling and foolish a lawsuit you wish to engage in."
"Ay, sir?" said Dandie, in a disappointed tone. "So ye winna take on wi' me, I'm doubting?"
"Me! not I--go home, go home, take a pint and agree." Dandie looked but half contented, and still remained stationary. "Anything more, my friend?"
"Only, sir, about the succession of this leddy that's dead, auld Miss Margaret Bertram o' Singleside."
"Ay, what about her?" said the counsellor, rather surprised.
"Ou, we have nae connection at a' wi' the Bertrams," said Dandie,--"they were grand folk by the like o' us.--But Jean Liltup, that was auld Singleside's housekeeper, and the mother of these twa young ladies that are gane--the last o' them's dead at a ripe age, I trow--Jean Liltup came out o' Liddel water, and she was as near our connection as second cousin to my mother's half-sister--She drew up wi' Singleside, nae doubt, when she was his housekeeper, and it was a sair vex and grief to a' her kith and kin. But he acknowledged a marriage, and satisfied the kirk--and now I wad ken frae you if we hae not some claim by law?"
"Not the shadow of a claim."
"Aweel, we're nae puirer," said Dandie,--"but she may hae thought on us if she was minded to make a testament.--Weel, sir, I've said my say--I'se e'en wish you good-night, and--"putting his hand in his pocket.
"No, no, my friend; I never take fees on Saturday nights, or without a memorial--away with you, Dandie." And Dandie made his reverence, and departed accordingly.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
But this poor farce has neither truth, nor art, To please the fancy or to touch the heart. Dark but not awful, dismal but yet mean, With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene, Presents no objects tender or profound, But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around. Parish Register.
"Your majesty," said Mannering, laughing, "has solemnised your abdication by an act of mercy and charity--That fellow will scarce think of going to law."
"Oh, you are quite wrong," said the experienced lawyer. "The only difference is, I have lost my client and my fee. He'll never rest till he finds somebody to encourage him to commit the folly he has predetermined--No! no! I have only shown you another weakness of my character--I always speak truth of a Saturday night."
"And sometimes through the week, I should think," said Mannering, continuing the same tone.
"Why, yes; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, as Hamlet says, indifferent honest, when my clients and their solicitors do not make me the medium of conveying their double-distilled lies to the bench. But oportet vivere! it is a sad thing.--And now to our business. I am glad my old friend MacMorlan has sent you to me; he is an active, honest, and intelligent man, long Sheriff-substitute of the county of--under me, and still holds the office. He knows I have a regard for that unfortunate family of Ellangowan, and for poor Lucy. I have not seen her since she was twelve years old, and she was then a sweet pretty girl under the management of a very silly father. But my interest in her is of an early date. I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being then Sheriff of that county, to investigate the particulars of a murder which had been committed near Ellangowan the day on which this poor child was born; and which, by a strange combination that I was unhappily not able to trace, involved the death or abstraction of her only brother, a boy of about five years old. No, Colonel, I shall never forget the misery of the house of Ellangowan that morning!--the father half distracted--the mother dead in premature travail--the helpless
"Then take broadswords, and be d-d to you, as your fathers did before you," said the counsel learned in the law.
"Aweel, sir, if ye think it wadna be again the law, it's a' ane to Dandie."
"Hold! Hold!" exclaimed Pleydell, "we shall have another Lord Soulis' mistake--Pr'ythee, man, comprehend me; I wish you to consider how very trifling and foolish a lawsuit you wish to engage in."
"Ay, sir?" said Dandie, in a disappointed tone. "So ye winna take on wi' me, I'm doubting?"
"Me! not I--go home, go home, take a pint and agree." Dandie looked but half contented, and still remained stationary. "Anything more, my friend?"
"Only, sir, about the succession of this leddy that's dead, auld Miss Margaret Bertram o' Singleside."
"Ay, what about her?" said the counsellor, rather surprised.
"Ou, we have nae connection at a' wi' the Bertrams," said Dandie,--"they were grand folk by the like o' us.--But Jean Liltup, that was auld Singleside's housekeeper, and the mother of these twa young ladies that are gane--the last o' them's dead at a ripe age, I trow--Jean Liltup came out o' Liddel water, and she was as near our connection as second cousin to my mother's half-sister--She drew up wi' Singleside, nae doubt, when she was his housekeeper, and it was a sair vex and grief to a' her kith and kin. But he acknowledged a marriage, and satisfied the kirk--and now I wad ken frae you if we hae not some claim by law?"
"Not the shadow of a claim."
"Aweel, we're nae puirer," said Dandie,--"but she may hae thought on us if she was minded to make a testament.--Weel, sir, I've said my say--I'se e'en wish you good-night, and--"putting his hand in his pocket.
"No, no, my friend; I never take fees on Saturday nights, or without a memorial--away with you, Dandie." And Dandie made his reverence, and departed accordingly.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
But this poor farce has neither truth, nor art, To please the fancy or to touch the heart. Dark but not awful, dismal but yet mean, With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene, Presents no objects tender or profound, But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around. Parish Register.
"Your majesty," said Mannering, laughing, "has solemnised your abdication by an act of mercy and charity--That fellow will scarce think of going to law."
"Oh, you are quite wrong," said the experienced lawyer. "The only difference is, I have lost my client and my fee. He'll never rest till he finds somebody to encourage him to commit the folly he has predetermined--No! no! I have only shown you another weakness of my character--I always speak truth of a Saturday night."
"And sometimes through the week, I should think," said Mannering, continuing the same tone.
"Why, yes; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, as Hamlet says, indifferent honest, when my clients and their solicitors do not make me the medium of conveying their double-distilled lies to the bench. But oportet vivere! it is a sad thing.--And now to our business. I am glad my old friend MacMorlan has sent you to me; he is an active, honest, and intelligent man, long Sheriff-substitute of the county of--under me, and still holds the office. He knows I have a regard for that unfortunate family of Ellangowan, and for poor Lucy. I have not seen her since she was twelve years old, and she was then a sweet pretty girl under the management of a very silly father. But my interest in her is of an early date. I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being then Sheriff of that county, to investigate the particulars of a murder which had been committed near Ellangowan the day on which this poor child was born; and which, by a strange combination that I was unhappily not able to trace, involved the death or abstraction of her only brother, a boy of about five years old. No, Colonel, I shall never forget the misery of the house of Ellangowan that morning!--the father half distracted--the mother dead in premature travail--the helpless