Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 05
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 05
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
Then Duncan Schulebred staggered to the door, which he opened so gently
that the writer might, if he had not been drunk, have suspected him of
foul play. His foot was scarcely heard on the passage; but a sound, as
if from the end of the stairs, indicated that some one had missed a
step. No notice of it was taken by the writer, who sat with his eye
fixed on the candle, concocting, like a good poet, one of those works of
imagination called a preliminary or dilatory defence. Formerly, these
works of fancy were very rife among lawyers, and, before the judicature
act, they used to reach a second or even a third edition, under the form
of "amended defences," "re-amended defences," and so forth. They are not
now so much in favour, though the fancy which produces them is still as
vivid as ever. How long Andrew Gavin sat dreaming over his intended work
we cannot say; but never was poet more rudely, importunately, and
unpleasantly roused from his dream, by the hand of a messenger-at-arms,
than was the unsuspecting victim of Duncan Schulebred's treachery, as he
was called upon by the landlord to pay the bill. He had no money upon
him--the small sum he had given to the weaver to pay the last or
stirrup gill, and which the varlet had carried away with him, having
been all his remaining cash, after paying the price of the linen. He
requested the importunate landlord to wait a little, to ascertain if
Duncan would return; but the man wished to get to bed; and Andrew's
credit being somewhat worn, like that of many others of his overdone
profession, the publican insisted upon him leaving his watch, as a
pledge for the payment of the money. The writer's pride--a quality never
awanting in the race, especially when they're in liquor--was roused; he
roared; he refused to _impignorate_, as he called it, his watch; he
swore that he would rather remain in durance all night than succumb to
the unreasonable demand of the publican. The man was as resolute as he,
and, without saying a word, turned the key in the lock, and left the
writer to dream over his legal works of fancy in the dark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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