[A] Sinclair was a singer; and complained to the manager that in the operatic play of Rob Roy he had a multitude of mere words to utter between the songs. 'Cut, my boy, cut!' said the manager. On this vox et p. n. cut Scott, and doubtless many of his cuts would not have discredited the condensers of evidence. But only one of his master-strokes has reached posterity. His melodious organs had been taxed with this sentence: "Rashleigh is my cousin; but, for what reason I cannot divine, he is my bitterest enemy." This he condensed and delivered thus:--"Rashleigh is my cousin, but for what reason I cannot divine." CHAPTER XXXVIII OUTSIDE the town they found the snow fresh trampled by innumerable wolves every foot of the road. "We did well to take the old man's advice Denys." "Ay did we. For now I think on't I did hear them last night a-scurrying under our window and howling and whining for man's flesh in yon market-place. But no fat burgher did pity the poor vagabones, and drop out o' window." Gerard smiled, but with an air of abstraction. And they plodded on in silence. * * * * * "What dost meditate so profoundly?" "Thy goodness." Denys was anything but pleased at this answer. Amongst his oddities you may have observed that he could stand a great deal of real impertinence, he was so good-humoured. But would fire up now and then where not even the shadow of a ground for anger existed. "A civil question merits a civil reply," said he very drily. "Alas, I meant no other," said Gerard. "Then why pretend you were thinking of my goodness, when you know I have no goodness under my skin." "Had another said this, I had answered 'thou liest.' But to thee I say: 'hast no eye for men's qualities, but only for women's.' And, once more, I do defy thy unreasonable choler, and say I was thinking of thy goodness of overnight. Wouldst have wedded me to the 'Tête d'Or,' or rather to the 'tête de veau dorée,' and left thyself solitary." "Oh, are ye there, lad?" said Denys recovering his good-humour in a moment. "Well, but to speak sooth, I meant that not for goodness; but for friendship and true fellowship, no more. And let me tell you, my young master, my conscience it pricketh me even now for letting you turn your back thus on fortune and peaceful days. A truer friend than I had ta'en and somewhat hamstrung thee. Then hadst thou been fain to lie smarting at the 'Tête d'Or' a month or so: yon skittish lass had nursed thee tenderly, and all had been well. Blade I had in hand to do't, but, remembering how thou hatest pain though it be but a scratch, my craven heart it failed me at the pinch." And Denys wore a look of humble apology for his lack of virtuous resolution when the path of duty lay so clear.