“Mak it a gallon, an’ I’ll gang. Mak it a gallon—it will do for twa days.”
“Well, well, you shall have a gallon—only go,” urged the now alarmed proprietor; for Angus, perceiving his advantage, went on increasing in his demands, and the self-elected chief began to perceive that his subjects were not so obedient as he had expected; and vague ideas of dirks and drownings occurred hurriedly to his mind.
Angus, however, seemed for this time satisfied with his prize, and resumed his way to the lower regions, muttering and growling as he went, as if he had been a highly injured individual, and leaving the fat gentleman in a very uncomfortable frame of mind.
“Savages!” he murmured to himself; “by dad, we shall all be murdered to a certainty. However, when all my own servants arrive, we shall turn Angus and the blind old man out of the castle, and have things a little better managed than this. But it certainly is very strange my sister does not come! Our new man, Copus, is a stout fellow, and would keep this old rascal Angus in order.”
“Fat, in the teil’s name, are ye skirlin’ there for?” said the sharp voice of that uncourteous seneschal, as he put his shaggy head out of the glassless orifice that served as a window; “are we a’ teaf, think ye?”
“Hallo, old feller!” shouted the voice of Copus in reply, “leave off your hinfernal jabber, and open the door, will ye?”
“Open’t yersell, and be t—d till ye,” screamed the old man; “her’s no servant o’ your’s, I’m thinking.”
“William, isn’t there never a bell?” inquired Miss Alice.
“Bell!” re-echoed Mr Copus; “no, nor nothing else that a gentleman is acquainted with; so here I thinks, ma’am, we must stay all night, for that ’ere waterfall wont let nobody hear, and the old lunatic, as peeps out of the hole in the wall, don’t seem inclined to be civil.”