Black humor; Country life -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
"Oh! by no means," answered Touchwood; "I am one of the maddest old boys
ever slept out of straw, or went loose. But you can put fishing
questions in your turn, Captain, I see that--you would fain know how
much, or how little, I am in all these secrets. Well, that is as
hereafter may be. In the meantime, here are my proofs.--Old Scrogie
Mowbray was mad, to like the sound of Mowbray better than that of
Scrogie; young Scrogie was mad, not to like it as well. The old Earl of
Etherington was not sane when he married a French wife in secret, and
devilish mad indeed when he married an English one in public. Then for
the good folk here, Mowbray of St. Ronan's is cracked, when he wishes to
give his sister to he knows not precisely whom: She is a fool not to
take him, because she _does_ know who he is, and what has been between
them; and your friend is maddest of all, who seeks her under so heavy a
penalty:--and you and I, Captain, go mad gratis, for company's sake,
when we mix ourselves with such a mess of folly and frenzy."
"Really, sir, all that you have said is an absolute riddle to me,"
replied the embarrassed Jekyl.
"Riddles may be read," said Touchwood, nodding; "if you have any desire
to read mine, pray, take notice, that this being our first interview, I
have exerted myself _faire les frais du conversation_, as Jack Frenchman
says; if you want another, you may come to Mrs. Dods's at the Cleikum
Inn, any day before Saturday, at four precisely, when you will find none
of your half-starved, long-limbed bundles of bones, which you call
poultry at the table-d'hote, but a right Chitty-gong fowl!--I got Mrs.
Dods the breed from old Ben Vandewash, the Dutch broker--stewed to a
minute, with rice and mushrooms.--If you can eat without a silver fork,
and your appetite serves you, you shall be welcome--that's all.--So,
good morning to you, good master lieutenant, for a captain of the Guards
is but a lieutenant after all."
So saying, and ere Jekyl could make any answer, the old gentleman turned
short off into a path which led to the healing fountain, branching away
from that which conducted to the Hotel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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