“Right!—right, my Lord!” said Inchrory, seating himself beside the Earl, and taking his hand and shaking it heartily, without any sort of ceremony; “you are quite right, my Lord; that is exactly my rule. Every man should have the benmost seat in his own house.”
“You see that Luath hath not forgotten you,” said the Earl, as the great dog was manifesting his joy at seeing his old master.
“By my faith you have him in good quarters here!” said Inchrory, observing that a quadruple fold of carpet had been spread for the animal close in front of the fire.
“The best I can give him, Inchrory,” said the Earl; “as, next to his late master, he deserves the best at my hands. Here, bring the bottle! Inchrory must taste the Earl of Fife’s bottle! And, do you hear, bring something for Inchrory to stay his hunger with after his long ride!”
Immediately, as if by magic, several footmen entered with a table covered with the richest viands and wines, which was placed close to Inchrory’s chair and that of the Earl. By especial order a bottle of whisky appeared among the other liquors.
“Here’s to ye, Inchrory!” said the Earl, after filling himself a glass of whisky, and drinking to his guest with a hearty shake of his hand. And,—
“Here’s to you, my Lord,” cried Inchrory, following his example in a bumper of the same liquor.
Inchrory had no reason to complain of his entertainment during the time he was at Mar Lodge. The Earl gave orders that every thing should be done to please him; and the little man was highly pleased, and as proud as a peacock. Amongst other things, hunting parties were made in all directions through the neighbouring forests; and although these were by no means expressly got up for him, yet he was always brought so prominently forward on all such occasions, that, in his pride, he believed, like the fly on the pillar, that the very world was moving for him, and for him alone.
It happened that a Tenchil, or a driving of the woods for game of all kinds, was one day held at Alnac. Inchrory was posted in a pass with Farquharson of Allargue and Grant of Burnside in Cromdale, who was one of Lord Fife’s factors. This last mentioned gentleman, having only arrived at Mar Lodge that morning, knew nothing of Inchrory personally, though Inchrory knew something of him. So that, whilst Farquharson, who was by this time well acquainted with Inchrory and all his peculiarities, was treating him with all that respect, which was at all times paid him by a universal agreement among Lord Fife’s friends then assembled as his guests, the little man was left quite unnoticed by Burnside, and treated by him as nobody. Inchrory was severely nettled at this apparently marked neglect on the part of Burnside towards him. As usual on such occasions, the people who had surrounded a large portion of the forest, gradually contracted their circle, and their shouts increasing, and the dogs beginning to range through the coverts, and to give tongue, game of all kinds came popping singly out through the different passes where the hunters were stationed. A short-legged, long-bodied, rough, cabbage-worm-looking terrier, of the true Highland breed, came yelping along towards the point where Burnside, Allargue, and Inchrory were posted near to each other. All was anxiety and eager anticipation. A hart of the first head was the least thing that was looked for. When,—lo, and behold, out came an enormous wild-cat, the very tigger of our Highland woods. Burnside had a capital chance of him, but fired at him, and missed him. Inchrory immediately levelled his piece, and shot him dead.
“There’s at you, clowns of Cromdale!” cried Inchrory, leering most triumphantly and provokingly over his shoulder at Burnside.