Arranged marriage -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Love stories; Psychological fiction; Scotland -- Fiction; Women murderers -- Fiction
“Have ye no heard of our letter,” said the mother-in-law, “making our
John [Gibbie] the Queen’s cooper for certain? and scarce a chield that
had ever hammered gird upon tub but was applying for it?”
“Have I heard!!!” said Caleb, who now found how the wind set, with an
accent of exceeding contempt, at the doubt expressed—“have I heard,
quo’she!!!” and as he spoke he changed his shambling, skulking, dodging
pace into a manly and authoritative step, readjusted his cocked hat,
and suffered his brow to emerge from under it in all the pride of
aristocracy, like the sun from behind a cloud.
“To be sure, he canna but hae heard,” said the good woman.
“Ay, to be sure it’s impossible but I should,” said Caleb; “and sae
I’ll be the first to kiss ye, joe, and wish you, cooper, much joy of
your preferment, naething doubting but ye ken wha are your friends, and
_have_ helped ye, and _can_ help ye. I thought it right to look a wee
strange upon it at first,” added Caleb, “just to see if ye were made of
the right mettle; but ye ring true, lad—ye ring true!”
So saying, with a most lordly air he kissed the women, and abandoned
his hand, with an air of serene patronage, to the hearty shake of Mr.
Girder’s horn-hard palm. Upon this complete, and to Caleb most
satisfactory, information he did not, it may readily be believed,
hesitate to accept an invitation to a solemn feast, to which were
invited, not only all the _notables_ of the village, but even his
ancient antagonist, Mr. Dingwall, himself. At this festivity he was, of
course, the most welcome and most honoured guest; and so well did he
ply the company with stories of what he could do with his master, his
master with the Lord Keeper, the Lord Keeper with the council, and the
council with the king [queen], that before the company dismissed (which
was, indeed, rather at an early hour than a late one), every man of
note in the village was ascending to the top-gallant of some ideal
preferment by the ladder of ropes which Caleb had presented to their
imagination. Nay, the cunning butler regained in that moment not only
all the influence he possessed formerly over the villagers, when the
baronial family which he served were at the proudest, but acquired even
an accession of importance. The writer—the very attorney himself, such
is the thirst of preferment—felt the force of the attraction, and
taking an opportunity to draw Caleb into a corner, spoke, with
affectionate regret, of the declining health of the sheriff-clerk of
the county.
“An excellent man—a most valuable man, Mr. Caleb; but fat sall I say!
we are peer feckless bodies, here the day and awa’ by cock-screech the
morn; and if he failyies, there maun be somebody in his place; and gif
that ye could airt it my way, I sall be thankful, man—a gluve stuffed
wi gowd nobles; an’ hark ye, man something canny till yoursell, and the
Wolf’s Hope carles to settle kindly wi’ the Master of Ravenswood—that
is, Lord Ravenswood—God bless his lordship!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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