"'A health to the Captain,' he says. 'Drink, lads, to the welfare o' that most valiant soldier and gentleman, Captain Gilbert Burnet. Ye a' ken the errand ye're come on, to lay hands on a rebel and take him to his proper place, and I drink to your guid success in the matter.' And he lifts up his glass and spills some o' it ower the table.
"At this there was a great uproar, and they a' rose wi' their glasses and cried on the Captain. He sat a' the while wi' a sort o' scornfu' smile on his face, as if he were half-pleased, but thocht little o' the folk that pleased him.
"'I thank you,' he says at last. 'I thank you all, my men, for your good will. We have done well together in the past, and we'll do better in time to come. I will prove to the rebel folk o' this land that Gilbert Burnet will make them obey.'
"'Faith, Gilbert,' says Maister Veitch, 'hae ye no the grace to speak o' your verra guid friend? I think ye're beholden to me for a hantle o' your success.'
"The Captain looks at him wi' a glint o' guid humour. 'No more, Michael,' says he, 'than the cook owes to the scullion. You do my dirty work.'
"'Dirty work, quotha,' cried Maister Veitch, who was hot and flustered with wine. 'I wouldna tak that from any other than yoursel', Gilbert, and maybe no from you.'
"'Take it or not, just as you please,' said the Captain, scornfully. 'It's no concern o' mine.'
"This angered the other, and he spoke up fiercely:
"I am of as guid blood as yoursel', Gilbert Burnet. Is a Tweeddale gentleman no as guid as a bit westland lairdie?"
"'Faith, that is too much,' says the Captain. 'Michael, I'll make you answer for this yet.' So he sat with lowered brows, while Maister Veitch, to a' appearance, had forgotten the words he had spoken.