Philip Rollo; or, the Scottish Musketeers, Vol. 1 (of 2)Grant, James
General
Philip Rollo; or, the Scottish Musketeers, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Grant, James
Thirty Years' War, 1618-1648 -- Fiction
The count retired, with his lofty red plume dancing above his
embossed helmet, and his sword Eisenhauer (or Ironhewer), as it could
cut both helmets and blades of steel, under his arm; then I was left,
for a time, to my reflections. About an hour afterwards, I heard
stealthy footsteps approaching; the door of my chamber opened, and
the broad, good-humoured Lowland face of Dandy Dreghorn--the same
soldier whom we had gauntleted for his gluttony on the
march--appeared, looking cautiously round the room. He had a large
Dutch leather flask in one hand, a brown-ware pot in the other, and a
loaf of bread under his arm. My helmet and cuirass, kilt, plaid, and
other trappings, were lying upon a sofa; and the moment he espied
these items, which were indicative of my presence, he advanced more
boldly, and overwhelmed me with questions about my wound, and noisy
exclamations of joy at having discovered me.
"'Od, sir, I'm glad I've fund ye oot, for I had a sair job seeking ye
through this muckle ark, from roof to grund stane, like a puir coo in
an unco loan. Eh! sir, that was an awfu' business at the Brig o'
Boitzenburg; what a sicht puir Fergus M'Vurich was, wi' the shot
through his nose! He was a grand piper that, and could blaw wi' his
mooth fu' o' meal!"
"And how fares it with thee, honest Dandy?" said I, giving him my
right hand.
"Ill eneuch, sir, Gude kens!" sighed Dandy, squatting himself upon
the floor, placing the jar, the loaf, and the bottle, between his
legs, and unclasping an immense jockteleg knife; "Ill eneuch! for
between that dour deevil, Corporal Spürrledter, and an auld besom o'
a housekeeper, that maks a' alike unwelcome, I am weel nigh starved;
for they gied me naething for supper last nicht, and for breakfast
this morning, but chappit cabbages."
"Cabbages?"
"Ay, sir, as I'm a leevin' man--chappit wi' pepper and vinegar, sic
as at hame we wadna gie to a grumphie soo. 'What the deil's this?'
said I to auld Spürrledter; '_Soor Craute_,' said he. 'Soor what?'
said I. 'Soor Craute,' he roared out, with an oath like twa sneezes
and a snort. 'The Lord hae a care o' me! is this the kind o' draff
and dreg you German bodies eat?' '_Yaw_,' said he, as he ladled a
bowlfu' into his stamach like a kail-eating Grant o' Strathspey; 'and
ver goot, too.' 'Does your billy o' an emperor eat kail-blades that
way?' He nodded his grey pow, for he was owre fu' to speak.
'Preserve us a'--what a beast he maun be!' said I. The auld beggar
lookit very like as if he wad hae stickit me, but I gloomed as if I
didna care a brass bodle for him."
"So, then, you have neither had supper last night, nor breakfast this
morning?" said I, seeing that Dandy was cutting his third slice from
the loaf, and was eating and speaking with equal rapidity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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