Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — CompleteScott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Complete
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'I thank ye baith, my good lads,' said the Baron, 'but I will not
infringe upon your peculium. Bailie Macwheeble has provided the sum
which is necessary.'
Here the Bailie shifted and fidgeted about in his seat, and appeared
extremely uneasy. At length, after several preliminary hems, and much
tautological expression of his devotion to his honour's service, by
night or day, living or dead, he began to insinuate, 'that the banks
had removed a' their ready cash into the Castle; that, nae doubt,
Sandie Goldie, the silversmith, would do mickle for his honour; but
there was little time to get the wadset made out; and, doubtless, if
his honour Glennaquoich or Mr. Wauverley could accommodate--'
'Let me hear of no such nonsense, sir,' said the Baron, in a tone which
rendered Macwheeble mute, 'but proceed as we accorded before dinner, if
it be your wish to remain in my service.'
To this peremptory order the Bailie, though he felt as if condemned to
suffer a transfusion of blood from his own veins into those of the
Baron, did not presume to make any reply. After fidgeting a little
while longer, however, he addressed himself to Glennaquoich, and told
him, if his honour had mair ready siller than was sufficient for his
occasions in the field, he could put it out at use for his honour in
safe hands and at great profit at this time.
At this proposal Fergus laughed heartily, and answered, when he had
recovered his breath--'Many thanks, Bailie; but you must know, it is a
general custom among us soldiers to make our landlady our banker. Here,
Mrs. Flockhart,' said he, taking four or five broad pieces out of a
well-filled purse and tossing the purse itself, with its remaining
contents, into her apron, 'these will serve my occasions; do you take
the rest. Be my banker if I live, and my executor if I die; but take
care to give something to the Highland cailliachs [Footnote: Old women,
on whom devolved the duty of lamenting for the dead, which the Irish
call keening.] that shall cry the coronach loudest for the last Vich
lan Vohr.'
'It is the testamentum militare,' quoth the Baron, 'whilk, amang the
Romans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative.' But the soft heart of Mrs.
Flockhart was melted within her at the Chieftain's speech; she set up a
lamentable blubbering, and positively refused to touch the bequest,
which Fergus was therefore obliged to resume.
'Well, then,' said the Chief, 'if I fall, it will go to the grenadier
that knocks my brains out, and I shall take care he works hard for it.'
Bailie Macwheeble was again tempted to put in his oar; for where cash
was concerned he did not willingly remain silent. 'Perhaps he had
better carry the gowd to Miss Mac-Ivor, in case of mortality or
accidents of war. It might tak the form of a mortis causa donation in
the young leddie's favour, and--wad cost but the scrape of a pen to mak
it out.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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