His appearance, voice, and manner produced an instantaneous effect in
his favour. He was a handsome, tall, thin figure, dressed in black, as
appeared when he laid aside his riding-coat; his age might be between
forty and fifty; his cast of features grave and interesting, and his
air somewhat military. Every point of his appearance and address
bespoke the gentleman. Long habit had given Mrs. Mac-Candlish an acute
tact in ascertaining the quality of her visitors, and proportioning her
reception accordingly:--
To every guest the appropriate speech was made,
And every duty with distinction paid;
Respectful, easy, pleasant, or polite--
'Your honour's servant!' 'Mister Smith, good-night.'
On the present occasion she was low in her courtesy and profuse in her
apologies. The stranger begged his horse might be attended to: she went
out herself to school the hostler.
'There was never a prettier bit o' horse-flesh in the stable o' the
Gordon Arms,' said the man, which information increased the landlady's
respect for the rider. Finding, on her return, that the stranger
declined to go into another apartment (which, indeed, she allowed,
would be but cold and smoky till the fire bleezed up), she installed
her guest hospitably by the fireside, and offered what refreshment her
house afforded.
'A cup of your tea, ma'am, if you will favour me.'
Mrs. Mac-Candlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot with hyson, and
proceeded in her duties with her best grace. 'We have a very nice
parlour, sir, and everything very agreeable for gentlefolks; but it's
bespoke the night for a gentleman and his daughter that are going to
leave this part of the country; ane of my chaises is gane for them, and
will be back forthwith. They're no sae weel in the warld as they have
been; but we're a' subject to ups and downs in this life, as your
honour must needs ken,--but is not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to
your honour?'
'By no means, ma'am; I am an old campaigner, and perfectly used to it.
Will you permit me to make some inquiries about a family in this
neighbourhood?'
The sound of wheels was now heard, and the landlady hurried to the door
to receive her expected guests; but returned in an instant, followed by
the postilion. 'No, they canna come at no rate, the Laird's sae ill.'
'But God help them,' said the landlady, 'the morn's the term, the very
last day they can bide in the house; a' thing's to be roupit.'
'Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye; Mr. Bertram canna be
moved.'
'What Mr. Bertram?' said the stranger; 'not Mr. Bertram of Ellangowan,
I hope?'
'Just e'en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o' his, ye have come
at a time when he's sair bested.'
'I have been abroad for many years,--is his health so much deranged?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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