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
"Tush--heed it not, captain; let us to breakfast, and dismiss all
memory of the last night's camisado, with its contingent horrors.
Let us converse about poor old Scotland, and tell me whether our
unwise king and valiant kirk are likely to be embroiled."
On such a topic, I alone could afford any information. Ian, as a
Highland gentleman, disliking, or perhaps disdaining, the Lowlanders,
neither cared for nor knew of any thing that passed beyond the
Highland frontier;--the fishing and hunting expeditions of his clan,
and the endless feuds and intrigues of his neighbours the Grants, and
Frazers, their creaghs, battles, and lawsuits, had sufficiently
occupied his attention to prevent him entering into politics; though
to please our kinsman, M'Coll of that Ilk, he had once marched five
hundred claymores as far as the Garioch to fight the Gordons of
Huntly.
Eminently handsome and noble in aspect and bearing, he was the
beau-ideal of a Scottish chief; and, had his heart not been left in
his own beloved glen, I might have found him a formidable though
unintentional rival; for the fair sisters chatted with him without
cessation, and as their conversation was maintained in a strange
compound of German and Spanish, mingled with our own language, the
medley and its mistakes excited frequent and immoderate bursts of
merriment.
The breakfast passed, and my breast expanded with delight, for I
found myself firmly established as the friend of the count and his
two charming daughters, and every hour we were on board increased
this intimacy; for in a ship there are innumerable little attentions
which gentlemen may, and must, bestow upon a lady, thus affording a
thousand opportunities for kind and graceful services, which cannot
be offered upon the land. On board of ship, ladies are naturally
restless; thus, if Ernestine wished to enjoy the fresh air on deck,
my arm was immediately proffered, and we clambered to the weather
quarter. There she got her dress wetted, and her pretty mouth filled
by the salt spray.
Then we slid to leeward, where the water came in through the
gun-ports and scupper-holes, causing her infinite alarm.
Then she wished to be below again, and we descended once more to the
cabin; but no sooner was my fair charge safely deposited on the sofa,
than the rolling of the vessel, the creaking of the timbers, the
scraping of the gun-slides, and the noise on deck, made her sick, and
she longed to reach the poop again. At last, as the strait narrowed,
the wind blew right ahead, and the high-pooped vessel laboured
heavily, shipping many a tremendous wave; the fair prisoners became
too ill to remain on deck; we sat chatting in the cabin, playing
chess and ombre at intervals, or watching from the little windows of
the stern the sunlight fading on the Isle of Alsen. The rolling of
the ship increased; but even then, under all these disadvantageous
circumstances, I could not help being struck by the different
appearance of the sisters.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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