"Convince us of that, Doctor," said Walter, "and we should burn this fair house to the ground-stone."
"Gadso, lad; let us have breakfast first. Harkee, butler——"
"Thou see'st, reverend sir," began the old servant, trembling.
"Avaunt, caitiff! dost thou thou me? 'I am come of good kin,' as the old morality saith," cried Joram; "fetch me a pint of sack posset, dashed with ginger, and a white loaf, while breakfast is preparing; and if you would save your back from my riding-rod, and your master's mansion from the flames, see that our repast be such as not even Heliogabalus could find a fault with."
"And bring me a wassail bowl of spiced ale," said Finland.
"And me a stoup of brandy, master butler," added Sergeant Wemyss.
"And me the same," chorussed Hab Elshender and the soldiers at the lower end of the hall; while his Reverence the chaplain, stretching himself before the ruddy flames, began the old ditty of the Cavaliers of Fortune.
"Now all you brave lads that would hazard for honour,
Hark! how Bellona her trumpet doth blow;
Mars, with many a warlike banner,
Bravely displayed, invites you to goe!
Germani, Denmark, and Sweden, are smoking,
With a band of brave sworders each other provoking,
Marching in their armour bright,
Summonis you to glory's fight,
Sing tan ta, ra, ra, ra, ra, ra!"
As his Reverence concluded, he drained the sack posset, which the white-haired butler placed obsequiously before him.
"Many a time and oft have I heard my father chant that old Swedish war-song," said Finland. "He commanded a regiment of Ruyters under Gustavus."