"Yer mither wull be proud o' ye the nicht," said the Incubus on the
atomy, "when it's tell't her that ye hae whanged at an auld machine, and
frichtet twa leddies to the skirlin'! Ony hoo, M'Whirter, gin that's
your name, there'll be half-a-croun to pay for the broken brodd!"
The small sliding-panel at the back of the machine was now cautiously
opened.
"Goodness gracious, Mr M'Whirter!" said a voice which I instantly
recognised to be that of Edith Bogle, "is it possible that can be you?
Is it the custom, sir, of the Scottish yeomen to break in upon the
privacy of two young defenceless females, and even to raise their
weapons against the place which contains them? Fie, sir! is this your
boasted chivalry?"
"O George--go away, do! I am really quite ashamed of you!" said the
voice of my cousin, Mary Muggerland.
I thought I should have dropped from my saddle.
"Friends of yours, eh, M'Whirter?" said Randolph. "Rather an awkward
fix, I confess. What's to be done?"
"Would the regulars have behaved thus?" cried Edith, with increased
animation. "Would they have insulted a woman? Never. Begone, sir--I am
afraid I have been mistaken in you"----
"By my honour, Edith!--Miss Bogle, I mean--you do me gross injustice! I
did not know--I could not conceive that you, or Mary, or any other lady,
were in the machine, and then--consider my orders"----
"Orders, sir! There are some orders which never ought to be obeyed. But
enough of this. If you have delicacy enough to feel for our situation,
you will not protract this interview. Drive on, boy! and you, Mr
M'Whirter, if you venture to interrupt us further, never expect my
pardon."
"Nor mine!" added Mary Muggerland.
"Who the mischief cares for yours, you monkey!" muttered I _sotto voce_.
"But Edith--one other word"----
"Don't call me Edith, sir! This continued importunity is insufferable!
If you have any explanation to make, you must select a fitter time," and
the sliding-panel was instantly closed.
"Ye've cotohed it ony hoo!" said the shrimp, with a malignant leer.
"Wauken up, Bauldy, my man, and let's see how cleverly ye'll gae through
them!"
A few words of explanation satisfied our commanding-officer, and the
victorious machine rolled insultingly through the lines. I have not
spirits to narrate the further proceedings of that day. My heart was not
in the squadron; and my eyes, even when ordered to be directed to the
left, were stealthily turned in the other direction towards two distant
figures in bathing-gowns, sedulously attempting to drown one another in
fun. Shortly afterwards we dispersed, and returned to Edinburgh. I
attempted a visit of explanation, but Miss Bogle was not at home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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