Silver plate, a goodly row of labelled flasks (bottling wine was not then the custom) and various substantial viands formed a corps-de-reserve on a grotesquely carved buffet of black oak, for everything was fashioned after the grotesque in those days. The knobs of the red leather chairs, and the ponderous fire-irons, were strange and open-mouthed visages; the brackets supporting the cornices of the doors and the mantel-piece, were also strange bacchanalian faces grinning from wreaths of vine-leaves, clusters of grapes and crowns of acanthus. Three long silver-hilted rapiers with immense pommels, shells, and guards, pistols, steel caps, masks, foils, and a buff coat richly laced with silver, lay all huddled in a corner, while the broad mantel-piece presented quite an epitome of the proprietor's character. The massive stone lintel displayed in bold relief the legend carved thereon by his pious forefathers, Blyssit be God for al his giftis, 1540. but above it lay Andro Hart's "Compendious Book of Godly Songs," beside the "Gaye Lady's Manuall," and the "Banqvet of Jests or change or cheare imprinted at the shoppe in Ivie Lane 1634," a book of ribbald ditties, another of farriery, another of falconry, obscene plays; Rosehaugh's "Disertations" sent by the author, and used by Clermistonlee to light his Dutch pipe; whistles, whips, hunting horns, and drinking flasks, cards, dice, hawks' hoods, an odd pistol, papers of council, warrants of search, arrest, and torture, mingled with challenges and frivolous billets-doux. A large wolfish dog, and a very frisky red-eyed Scottish terrier slept together on the warm hearth-rug. Juden Stenton, the stout old butler, had stirred the fire and wiped the glasses for the tenth time, tasted the wine for the twentieth, and had made as many rounds of the table to snuff the candles, and re-examine everything; he was very impatient and sleepy, and listened intently with his head bent low, a practice which he had acquired in the great civil wars. The clock in the spire of the Netherbow-porte struck midnight. "Cocksnails!" muttered Juden, "twelve o'clock and nae sign o' him yet. What's the world coming to? My certie, what would his farther the douce Laird o' Drumsheugh hae thocht o' this kind of work? He (honest man!) was aye in his nest at the first tuck o' the ten o'clock drum."