Bertram's curiosity was in some degree put to rest by the appearance of
the supper which his friend had ordered, which, although homely enough,
had the appetising cleanliness in which Mrs. Mac-Guffog's cookery was
so eminently deficient. Dinmont also, premising he had ridden the whole
day since breakfast-time without tasting anything 'to speak of,' which
qualifying phrase related to about three pounds of cold roast mutton
which he had discussed at his mid-day stage--Dinmont, I say, fell
stoutly upon the good cheer, and, like one of Homer's heroes, said
little, either good or bad, till the rage of thirst and hunger was
appeased. At length, after a draught of home-brewed ale, he began by
observing, 'Aweel, aweel, that hen,' looking upon the lamentable relics
of what had been once a large fowl, 'wasna a bad ane to be bred at a
town end, though it's no like our barn-door chuckies at Charlie's Hope;
and I am glad to see that this vexing job hasna taen awa your appetite,
Captain.'
'Why, really, my dinner was not so excellent, Mr. Dinmont, as to spoil
my supper.'
'I daresay no, I daresay no,' said Dandie. 'But now, hinny, that ye hae
brought us the brandy, and the mug wi' the het water, and the sugar,
and a' right, ye may steek the door, ye see, for we wad hae some o' our
ain cracks.' The damsel accordingly retired and shut the door of the
apartment, to which she added the precaution of drawing a large bolt on
the outside.
As soon as she was gone Dandie reconnoitred the premises, listened at
the key-hole as if he had been listening for the blowing of an otter,
and, having satisfied himself that there were no eavesdroppers,
returned to the table; and, making himself what he called a gey stiff
cheerer, poked the fire, and began his story in an undertone of gravity
and importance not very usual with him.
'Ye see, Captain, I had been in Edinbro' for twa or three days, looking
after the burial of a friend that we hae lost, and maybe I suld hae had
something for my ride; but there's disappointments in a' things, and
wha can help the like o' that? And I had a wee bit law business
besides, but that's neither here nor there. In short, I had got my
matters settled, and hame I cam; and the morn awa to the muirs to see
what the herds had been about, and I thought I might as weel gie a look
to the Touthope Head, where Jock o' Dawston and me has the outcast
about a march. Weel, just as I was coming upon the bit, I saw a man
afore me that I kenn'd was nane o' our herds, and it's a wild bit to
meet ony other body, so when I cam up to him it was Tod Gabriel, the
fox-hunter. So I says to him, rather surprised like, "What are ye doing
up amang the craws here, without your hounds, man? are ye seeking the
fox without the dogs?" So he said, "Na, gudeman, but I wanted to see
yoursell."
'"Ay," said I, "and ye'll be wanting eilding now, or something to pit
ower the winter?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account