Walter said, he trusted still to the proofs of his own loyalty, and the want of evidence to the contrary.
“Pooh! pooh! Cot tamn!” said Macpherson; “I tell you the evidence you want is this, if any great man say you ought to live, you will live; if not, you will die. Did not I was telling you that the soholdiers that were found dead in the correi, on the lands that belong to yourself, was evidence enough and more; I would not pe giving a curse for your evidence after that, for the one is much petter than te other. And py Cot, it is very well thought!” continued he, smiling grimly, “if you will pe preaking out into a rage, and pe cursing and tamning them all, you will get free in one moment.”
Walter said, that would be an easy ransom, and though it was an error he was too apt to fall into when angry, he could see no effect it could have in this case, but to irritate his prosecutors more and more against him.
“You see no effect! Cot t‑‑n, if you ever can see any effect peyond the top that is on your nose! and you will not pe advised by a man of experience, who would do more for you than he would pe commending of; and if you trust to what you can see, you will pe dancing a beautiful Highland shig in the air to a saulm tune, and that will have a very good effect. I tell you, when you come again to be questioned, I know my Lord Dundee is to be there to pe adducing his proof; take you great and proud offence at some of their questions and their proofs; and you may pe making offer to fight them all one by one, or two by two, in the king’s name, and send them all to hell in one pody; you cannot pe tamning them too much sore. By the soul of Rory More Macpherson! I would almost give up this claymore to be by and see that effect. Now you are not to pe minding because I am laughing like a fool, for I’m perfectly serious; if matters should pe standing hard with you, think of the advice of an ould friend, who respects you as the chief of the clan MacLeadle, supposing it to pe as low, and as much fallen down as it may.—Farewell! she pe giving you her hearty Cot’s blessing.”
Thus parted he with Daniel Roy Macpherson, and, as he judged, an unfortunate change it was for him. The wretch who now took the command of their guard had all the ignorance and rudeness of the former, without any counterbalance of high feeling and honour like him. His name was Patie Ingles, a temporary officer, the same who cut off the head of the amiable Mr White with an axe, at Kilmarnock, carried it to New–mills, and gave it to his party to play a game with at foot–ball, which they did. Ingles was drunk during the greater part of the journey, and his whole delight was in hurting, mortifying, and mimicking his prisoners. They were all bound together in pairs, and driven on in that manner like coupled dogs. This was effected by a very simple process. Their hands were fastened behind, the right and left arm of each pair being linked within one another. Walter was tied to a little spare Galloway weaver, a man wholly prone to controversy—he wanted to argue every point—on which account he was committed. Yet, when among the Cameronians, he took their principles as severely to task as he did those of the other party when examined by them. He lived but to contradict. Often did he try Walter with different points of opinion regarding the Christian Church. Walter knew so little about them that the weaver was astonished. He tried him with the apologetical declaration. Walter had never heard of it. He could make nothing of his gigantic associate, and at length began a sly enquiry on what account he was committed; but even on that he received no satisfactory information.
Ingles came staggering up with them. “Weel, Master Skinflint, what say you to it the day? This is a pleasant journey, is it not? Eh?—I say, Master, what do they call you! Peal–an’–eat, answer me in this—you see—I say—Is it not delightful? Eh?”
“Certainly, sir,” said the weaver, who wished to be quit of him; “very delightful to those who feel it so.”
“Feel it so!—D‑‑n you, sirrah, what do you mean by that? Do you know who you are speaking to? Eh?—Answer me in this—What do you mean by Feel it so? Eh?”
“I meant nothing,” returned the weaver, somewhat snappishly, “but that kind of respect which I always pay to gentry like you.”
“Gentry like me!—D‑‑n you, sir, if you speak such a—Eh?—Gentry like me!—I’ll spit you like a cock pheasant—Eh? Have you any of them in Galloway? Answer me in this, will you? Eh?”