Guy Mannering [24]
profession, descended to the seaside. The soi-disant captain embarked in a small boat with two men who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on the shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulating with great vehemence.
CHAPTER V.
--You have fed upon my seignories, Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods, From mine own windows torn my household coat, Razed out my impress, leaving me no sign, Save men's opinions and my living blood, To show the world I am a gentleman.
Richard II.
WHEN the boat which carried the worthy captain on board his vessel had accomplished that task, the sails began to ascend, and the ship was got under way. She fired three guns as a salute to the house of Ellangowan, and then shot away rapidly before the wind, which blew off shore, under all the sail she could crowd.
"Ay, ay," said the Laird, who had sought Mannering for some time, and now joined him, "there they go--there go the free-traders--there go Captain Dirk Hatteraick, and the Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, half Manks, half Dutchman, half devil! run out the bowsprit, up mainsail, top and top-gallant sails, royals, and sky-scrapers, and away,--follow who can! That fellow, Mr. Mannering, is the terror of all the excise and custom-house cruisers; they can make nothing of him; he drubs them, or he distances them;--and, speaking of excise, I come to bring you to breakfast; and you shall have some tea, that--"
Mannering, by this time, was aware that one thought linked strangely on to another in the concatenation of worthy Mr. Bertram's ideas,
Like orient pearls at random strung;
and, therefore, before the current of his associations had drifted farther from the point he had left, he brought him back by some inquiry about Dirk Hatteraick.
"Oh, he's a--a--gude sort of blackguard fellow eneugh--naebody cares to trouble him--smuggler, when his guns are in ballast--privateer, or pirate faith, when he gets them mounted. He has done more mischief to the revenue folk than ony rogue that ever came out of Ramsay."
"But, my good sir, such being his character, I wonder he has any protection and encouragement on this coast." "Why, Mr. Mannering, people must have brandy and tea, and there's none in the country but what comes this way--and then there's short accounts, and maybe a keg or two, or a dozen pounds left at your stable door, instead of a d-d lang account at Christmas from Duncan Robb, the grocer at Kippletringan, who has aye a sum to--make up, and either wants ready money, or a short-dated bill. Now, Hatteraick will take wood, or he'll take bark, or he'll take barley, or he'll take just what's convenient at the time. I'll tell you a gude story about that. There was ance a laird--that's Macfie of Gudgeonford,--he had a great number of kain hens--that's hens that the tenant pays to the landlord--like a sort of rent in kind--they aye feed mine very ill; Luckie Finniston sent up three that were a shame to be seen only last week, and yet she has twelve bows [* Bolls (a large measure of grain)] sowing of victual; indeed her goodman, Duncan Finniston--that's him that's gone--(we must all die, Mr. Mannering; that's ower true)--and speaking of that, let us live in the meanwhile, for here's breakfast on the table, and the Dominie ready to say the grace."
The Dominie did accordingly pronounce a benediction, that exceeded in length any speech which Mannering had yet heard him utter. The tea, which of course belonged to the noble Captain Hatteraick's trade, was pronounced excellent. Still Mannering hinted, though with due delicacy, at the risk of encouraging such desperate characters: "Were it but in justice to the revenue, I should have supposed--"
"Ah, the revenue-lads"--for Mr. Bertram never embraced a general or abstract idea, and his notion of the revenue was personified in the commissioners, surveyors, comptrollers, and riding officers, whom he happened to know--"the revenue-lads can look sharp eneugh out for themselves--no one needs to help them--and they have a' the soldiers to assist them
CHAPTER V.
--You have fed upon my seignories, Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods, From mine own windows torn my household coat, Razed out my impress, leaving me no sign, Save men's opinions and my living blood, To show the world I am a gentleman.
Richard II.
WHEN the boat which carried the worthy captain on board his vessel had accomplished that task, the sails began to ascend, and the ship was got under way. She fired three guns as a salute to the house of Ellangowan, and then shot away rapidly before the wind, which blew off shore, under all the sail she could crowd.
"Ay, ay," said the Laird, who had sought Mannering for some time, and now joined him, "there they go--there go the free-traders--there go Captain Dirk Hatteraick, and the Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, half Manks, half Dutchman, half devil! run out the bowsprit, up mainsail, top and top-gallant sails, royals, and sky-scrapers, and away,--follow who can! That fellow, Mr. Mannering, is the terror of all the excise and custom-house cruisers; they can make nothing of him; he drubs them, or he distances them;--and, speaking of excise, I come to bring you to breakfast; and you shall have some tea, that--"
Mannering, by this time, was aware that one thought linked strangely on to another in the concatenation of worthy Mr. Bertram's ideas,
Like orient pearls at random strung;
and, therefore, before the current of his associations had drifted farther from the point he had left, he brought him back by some inquiry about Dirk Hatteraick.
"Oh, he's a--a--gude sort of blackguard fellow eneugh--naebody cares to trouble him--smuggler, when his guns are in ballast--privateer, or pirate faith, when he gets them mounted. He has done more mischief to the revenue folk than ony rogue that ever came out of Ramsay."
"But, my good sir, such being his character, I wonder he has any protection and encouragement on this coast." "Why, Mr. Mannering, people must have brandy and tea, and there's none in the country but what comes this way--and then there's short accounts, and maybe a keg or two, or a dozen pounds left at your stable door, instead of a d-d lang account at Christmas from Duncan Robb, the grocer at Kippletringan, who has aye a sum to--make up, and either wants ready money, or a short-dated bill. Now, Hatteraick will take wood, or he'll take bark, or he'll take barley, or he'll take just what's convenient at the time. I'll tell you a gude story about that. There was ance a laird--that's Macfie of Gudgeonford,--he had a great number of kain hens--that's hens that the tenant pays to the landlord--like a sort of rent in kind--they aye feed mine very ill; Luckie Finniston sent up three that were a shame to be seen only last week, and yet she has twelve bows [* Bolls (a large measure of grain)] sowing of victual; indeed her goodman, Duncan Finniston--that's him that's gone--(we must all die, Mr. Mannering; that's ower true)--and speaking of that, let us live in the meanwhile, for here's breakfast on the table, and the Dominie ready to say the grace."
The Dominie did accordingly pronounce a benediction, that exceeded in length any speech which Mannering had yet heard him utter. The tea, which of course belonged to the noble Captain Hatteraick's trade, was pronounced excellent. Still Mannering hinted, though with due delicacy, at the risk of encouraging such desperate characters: "Were it but in justice to the revenue, I should have supposed--"
"Ah, the revenue-lads"--for Mr. Bertram never embraced a general or abstract idea, and his notion of the revenue was personified in the commissioners, surveyors, comptrollers, and riding officers, whom he happened to know--"the revenue-lads can look sharp eneugh out for themselves--no one needs to help them--and they have a' the soldiers to assist them