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
"Why Bill," I said, "I know little of the matter, and, 'twere no great
wonder though these bullets should confuse me somewhat in recalling what
I do know. Most certainly we never thought you a gipsy like ourselves;
but then I am sure mother never stole you; she had family enough of her
own, and, besides, she brought with her, for your board, she said, a
purse with more gold in it than I have seen at one time, either before
or since. I remember it kept us all comfortably in the _creature_ for a
whole twelvemonth; and it wasn't a trifle, Bill, that could do that. You
were at first like to die among us. You hadn't been accustomed to
sleeping out, or to food such as ours. And, dear me! how the rags you
were dressed in used to annoy you; but you soon got over all, Bill, and
became the hardiest little fellow among us. I once heard my mother say
that you were a _love-begot_, and that your father, who was an English
gentleman, had to part from both you and your mother on taking a wife.
And no more can I tell you, Bill, for the life of me."
We slept that night on the sand, master, and found, in the morning, that
the enemy had fallen back some miles nearer Alexandria. Next evening
there was a party of us dispatched on some secret service across the
desert. Bill was with us; but the officer under whose special charge we
were placed was a Captain Turpic, a nephew of Colonel Westhope, and his
heir. But he heired few of his good qualities. He was the son of a
pettifogging lawyer, and was as heartily hated by the soldiers as the
colonel was beloved. Towards sunset, the party reached a hollow valley
in the waste, and there rested, preparatory, as we all intended, for
passing the night. Some of us were engaged in erecting temporary huts of
branches, some in providing the necessary materials, and we had just
formed a snug little camp, and were preparing to light our fires for
supper, when we heard a shot not two furlongs away. Bill, who was by far
the most active among us, sprung up one of the tallest date-trees, to
reconnoitre. But he soon came down again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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