“What is the matter, Caleb?” said his master, somewhat alarmed in his turn; “has any part of the castle fallen?” “Castle fa’an! na, but the sute’s fa’an, and the thunner’s come right down the kitchen-lum, and the things are a’ lying here awa’, there awa’, like the Laird o’ Hotchpotch’s lands; and wi’ brave guests of honour and quality to entertain (a low bow here to Sir William Ashton and his daughter), and naething left in the house fit to present for dinner, or for supper either, for aught that I can see!” “I very believe you, Caleb,” said Ravenswood, drily. Balderstone here turned to his master a half-upbraiding, half-imploring countenance, and edged towards him as he repeated, “It was nae great matter of preparation; but just something added to your honour’s ordinary course of fare—_petty cover_, as they say at the Louvre—three courses and the fruit.” “Keep your intolerable nonsense to yourself, you old fool!” said Ravenswood, mortified at his officiousness, yet not knowing how to contradict him, without the risk of giving rise to scenes yet more ridiculous. Caleb saw his advantage, and resolved to improve it. But first, observing that the Lord Keeper’s servant entered the apartment and spoke apart with his master, he took the same opportunity to whisper a few words into Ravenswood’s ear: “Haud your tongue, for heaven’s sake, sir; if it’s my pleasure to hazard my soul in telling lees for the honour of the family, it’s nae business o’ yours; and if ye let me gang on quietly, I’se be moderate in my banquet; but if ye contradict me, deil but I dress ye a dinner fit for a duke!” Ravenswood, in fact, thought it would be best to let his officious butler run on, who proceeded to enumerate upon his fingers—“No muckle provision—might hae served four persons of honour,—first course, capons in white broth—roast kid—bacon with reverence; second course, roasted leveret—butter crabs—a veal florentine; third course, blackcock—it’s black eneugh now wi’ the sute—plumdamas—a tart—a flam—and some nonsense sweet things, and comfits—and that’s a’,” he said, seeing the impatience of his master—“that’s just a’ was o’t—forbye the apples and pears.”