“Willingly will I do thy pleasure, sir,” replied the man; and, running towards a solitary cottage which stood upon a bank hard by, he began shouting out, “Jemmy!” and “Harry!” till two lads, who were his sons and assistants, appeared.
“Thou must tarry here with the horses, till I return from on board, Charles,” said Sir Walter. “This is the very vessel I looked for—the Garonne of Bordeaux, Captain De Tremouille. He is an old friend of mine, and I would fain have some talk with him.”
Sir Walter was speedily rowed on board by the pilot and his two sons. The barque took up her proper ground, under the directions which the helmsman received from the experienced old sailor. The anchor was let go, and she swung round to her moorings. Charley Stewart passed a considerable time in walking the horses about ere he saw the boat leave the barque. At length he beheld it pulling towards the shore, and Sir Walter again joined him, bearing two large bundles, which were stowed away behind their saddles, in such a manner as to be covered by their cloaks as they rode, and following the same circuitous route which they had taken in their way out, they returned to the city, and regained the Knight’s lodgings without observation.
AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.
Clifford.—Stop one moment, Serjeant. See how the rain has made its way through the chinks of the window, and deluged the floor.
Serjeant.—Mercy on me, so it has, sir! Well, I’m sure it’s no wonder. Such a blast as that which is rairding without, would drive it through a stone wall.
Grant.—Call the girl from the kitchen, like a good man.
Serjeant.—Here, lassie!—We’re like to be all drowned at this end of the house. Bring some cloths, will ye, and dish-clouts, and dry up this deluge here.
Lassie.—Keep us a’, siccana sight! But we’re no one hair better in the other end o’ the house.