Guy Mannering [50]
of Warroch as fast as his beast could carry him; and by the way he met the young Laird and his governor, and he snatched up the bairn, and swure, if he was bewitched, the bairn should have the same luck as him; and the minister followed as fast as he could, and almaist as fast as them, for he was wonderfully swift of foot--and he saw Meg the witch, or her master in her similitude, rise suddenly out of the ground, and claught the bairn suddenly out of the gauger's arms--and then he rampauged and drew his sword--for ye ken a fie man and a cusser fearsna the deil."
"I believe that's very true," said the postilion.
"So, sir, she grippit him, and clodded [*Hurled] him like a stane from the sling ower the craigs of Warroch Head, where he was found that evening--but what became of the babe, frankly I cannot say. But he that was minister here then, that's now in a better place, had an opinion that the bairn was only conveyed to Fairyland for a season."
The stranger had smiled slightly at some parts of this recital, but ere he could answer, the clatter of a horse's hoofs was heard, and a smart servant, handsomely dressed, with a cockade in his hat, bustled into the kitchen, with "Make a little room, good people"; when, observing the stranger, he descended at once into the modest and civil domestic, his hat sunk down by his side, and he put a letter into his master's hands. "The family at Ellangowan, sir, are in great distress, and unable to receive any visits."
"I know it," replied his master.--"And now, madam, it you will have the goodness to allow me to occupy the parlour you mentioned, as you are disappointed of your guests--"
"Certainly, sir," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, and hastened to light the way with all the imperative bustle which an active landlady loves to display on such occasions.
"Young man," said the Deacon to the servant, filling a glass, "ye'll no be the waur o' this, after your ride."
"Not a feather, sir,--thank ye--your very good health, sir."
"And wha may your master be, friend?"
"What, the gentleman that was here?--that's the famous Colonel Mannering, sir, from the East Indies."
"What, him we read of in the newspapers?"
"Ay, ay, just the same. It was he relieved Cuddieburn, and defended Chingalore, and defeated the great Mahratta chief, Ram Jolli Bundleman--I was with him in most of his campaigns."
"Lord safe us," said the landlady, "I must go see what he would have for supper--that I should set him down here!"
"Oh, he likes that all the better, mother;--you never saw a plainer creature in your life than our old Colonel; and yet he has a spice of the devil in him too."
The rest of the evening's conversation below stairs tending little to edification, we shall, with the reader's leave, step up to the parlour.
CHAPTER XII.
--Reputation?--that's man's idol set up against God, the Maker of all laws, Who hath commanded us we should not kill, And yet we say we must, for Reputation! What honest man can either fear his own, Or else will hurt another's reputation? Fear to do base unworthy things is valour; If they be done to us, to suffer them Is valour too.-- BEN JONSON,
The Colonel was walking pensively up and down the parlour, when the officious landlady re-entered to take his commands. Having given them in the manner he thought would be most acceptable "for the good of the house," he begged to detain her a moment.
"I think," he said, "madam, if I understood the good people right, Mr. Bertram lost his son in his fifth year?"
"Oh ay, sir, there's nae doubt o' that, though there are mony idle clashes [* Tittle-tattle], about the way and manner, for it's an auld story now, and everybody tells it, as we were doing, their ain way by the ingleside. But lost the bairn was in his fifth year, as your honour says, Colonel; and the news being rashly tell'd to the leddy, then great with child, cost her her life that samyn night--and the Laird never throve after that day, but was just careless of everything--though, when his daughter Miss Lucy grew up,
"I believe that's very true," said the postilion.
"So, sir, she grippit him, and clodded [*Hurled] him like a stane from the sling ower the craigs of Warroch Head, where he was found that evening--but what became of the babe, frankly I cannot say. But he that was minister here then, that's now in a better place, had an opinion that the bairn was only conveyed to Fairyland for a season."
The stranger had smiled slightly at some parts of this recital, but ere he could answer, the clatter of a horse's hoofs was heard, and a smart servant, handsomely dressed, with a cockade in his hat, bustled into the kitchen, with "Make a little room, good people"; when, observing the stranger, he descended at once into the modest and civil domestic, his hat sunk down by his side, and he put a letter into his master's hands. "The family at Ellangowan, sir, are in great distress, and unable to receive any visits."
"I know it," replied his master.--"And now, madam, it you will have the goodness to allow me to occupy the parlour you mentioned, as you are disappointed of your guests--"
"Certainly, sir," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, and hastened to light the way with all the imperative bustle which an active landlady loves to display on such occasions.
"Young man," said the Deacon to the servant, filling a glass, "ye'll no be the waur o' this, after your ride."
"Not a feather, sir,--thank ye--your very good health, sir."
"And wha may your master be, friend?"
"What, the gentleman that was here?--that's the famous Colonel Mannering, sir, from the East Indies."
"What, him we read of in the newspapers?"
"Ay, ay, just the same. It was he relieved Cuddieburn, and defended Chingalore, and defeated the great Mahratta chief, Ram Jolli Bundleman--I was with him in most of his campaigns."
"Lord safe us," said the landlady, "I must go see what he would have for supper--that I should set him down here!"
"Oh, he likes that all the better, mother;--you never saw a plainer creature in your life than our old Colonel; and yet he has a spice of the devil in him too."
The rest of the evening's conversation below stairs tending little to edification, we shall, with the reader's leave, step up to the parlour.
CHAPTER XII.
--Reputation?--that's man's idol set up against God, the Maker of all laws, Who hath commanded us we should not kill, And yet we say we must, for Reputation! What honest man can either fear his own, Or else will hurt another's reputation? Fear to do base unworthy things is valour; If they be done to us, to suffer them Is valour too.-- BEN JONSON,
The Colonel was walking pensively up and down the parlour, when the officious landlady re-entered to take his commands. Having given them in the manner he thought would be most acceptable "for the good of the house," he begged to detain her a moment.
"I think," he said, "madam, if I understood the good people right, Mr. Bertram lost his son in his fifth year?"
"Oh ay, sir, there's nae doubt o' that, though there are mony idle clashes [* Tittle-tattle], about the way and manner, for it's an auld story now, and everybody tells it, as we were doing, their ain way by the ingleside. But lost the bairn was in his fifth year, as your honour says, Colonel; and the news being rashly tell'd to the leddy, then great with child, cost her her life that samyn night--and the Laird never throve after that day, but was just careless of everything--though, when his daughter Miss Lucy grew up,