The Scottish Cavalier: An Historical Romance, Volume 2 (of 3)Grant, James
History
The Scottish Cavalier: An Historical Romance, Volume 2 (of 3)
Grant, James
Scotland -- History -- 1649-1660 -- Fiction
"Just awa' up at the tounheid, to see that auld witch tar-barrelled.
It was a braw sight! Every place was crowded wi' folk--every window
crammed wi' faces, and every lumheid and bartisan loaded wi' skirling
weans and shouting laddies. And there was auld Magnus the provost,
the baillies and the councillors, a' majoring up the causeway in
their scarlet gowns, wigs, and cocked beavers, with the city sword,
mace and banner borne before them, wi' drums beating and halberts
glinting. Dunmore's dragoons lined the street.
"Certes, it was grand, my lord, and a bleeze weel worth riding to
Birgham to see. She maun hae been a horrid witch, that auld carlin,
for gude kens was a dooms ugly ane. She was trussed wi' a tow, like
a chicken for the spit; and a devilish black beetle, her familiar
spirit, tied round her neck in a crystal vial. 'Twas na brunt wi'
her, but, God sain us! when the flames touched it, gaed up into the
sky, wi' a flaff o' sparks and a clap like a thunder. She scraighed
for a tass o' water before the fire was lighted. 'Gie her nane,'
quoth my Lord Mersington, 'Gie her nane, ye loons; gin the auld
jaud's dry, she'll burn better.' Then a' body leugh and threw up
their bannets, as if they had been making a Robin Hude.
"Auld Sir Thomas o' Binns was there, and he leugh too, till the tears
came rowing owre his beard; for there is naething that born deil
likes better than a tar-barrelling, unless it be a back-handed slash
at the hill-folk. And ken ye, Clermistonlee, that a' body said she
would hae slippit the claws o' the Council and the Fifteen to boot,
but for the notable speech o' my worthy Lord Mersington, who laid
down the law and quoted the acts o' Estate in a way whilk was most
edifying to hear."
"What is all this cursed cataract of words about?--Of what are you
prating?"
"Prating?" reiterated Juden, a little put out. "Ou, just that if
your lordship would condescend to break your fast----"
"To eat!--no, the first morsel would choke me like a burning coal.
No, Juden; away with the table, and bring me the quilted gloves and a
bundle of foils."
Clermistonlee impatiently pushed aside the table, and in doing so,
overturned the great ale tankard.
"What are ye aboot, laddie?--are ye daft?" exclaimed Juden, wiping up
the streaming liquor in a state of high excitement. "The best damask
buirdclaith--he's gane clean wud! The last o' four dizzen o' my
lady's Flanders plenishing--he's daft--keepit for high days. O
Randal! hae some respect for yoursel', if you have nane for her whose
bonnie hands worked your cypher in the corner o' this very
buirdclaith."
"Silence, pest!" cried his master in a voice of thunder; but the
destruction of the table-cloth was a matter of no small importance to
the thrifty old butler, who continued to wipe and mutter,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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