"That he didna pretend to ony very great skeel in law matters, although he had had some experience in that way, too. But that he wad be very glad to gie ony hints that micht appear to him, on revisin the condescendence in his frien Skimclean's case, to be likely to be o' service."
"Muckle obliged, I'm sure, laird," said Drumwhussle; "an' sae is my frien Quirkum here, I daresay." Then addressing himself to the latter, "Wad ye be sae guid, noo, as gie oor frein here an inklin o' oor case. I hae explained to him the gruns o' oor action; but ye can let him mair fully into the merits o' the case."
Now, Quirkum, although, as already said, no great lawyer, was by no means destitute of common sense. In fact, he was rather clever in a general sort of way, and this cleverness enabled him to see at once what kind of a character the laird was. Skimclean he knew well before, and according to this knowledge he acted on the present occasion. He rattled over a given quantity of law terms, galloped through two or three varieties of legal processes, and concluded by asking the laird's opinion of what they had done, what they were doing, and what they should do. Confounded with the volubility of Quirkum, of whose oration he did not comprehend one word, and yet unwilling to acknowledge his difficulty, the laird adopted the safe course of merely shaking his head, and looking wise. For some seconds he uttered not a word. At length—
"It seems to me a gey steeve case," he said. "There's twa or three points in't that wad require consideration, an' on the whilk I wadna consider myself jist free to gie an aff-haun opinion. Noo, this bein the case, I'll jist revise the condescendence in my ain mind, an' gie my frien, Skimclean here, the benefit o' the process at anither meetin."
This Quirkum thought pretty well from a man whom he perfectly knew did not understand a word of what he had said; and he knew this, because he had not understood a word of it himself. Not being possessed of this important secret, however, Skimclean thought the laird's remarks highly creditable to his prudence; and, having expressed himself to this effect, concluded by inviting Quirkum and his brother lawyer to adjourn with him to the Brown Cow Inn, to "tak a bit chack o' dinner;" adding facetiously, "that, though law was a very guid thing, it wadna fill the wame."
The laird smiled, and Quirkum laughed outright at the sally, and both at once accepted the invitation by which it was associated. Acceptation was speedily followed by accomplishment. In little more than a quarter-of-an-hour after, the whole three were seated around a comfortably-covered table in a small, snug back-parlour in the Brown Cow Inn. Dinner despatched, tumblers were filled up, and a very pleasant career of talking and drinking commenced, and continued without interruption for somewhere about a couple of hours. At the end of this period, however, a circumstance occurred which somewhat disturbed the quiet sociality of the party. A person, evidently the worse of drink, unceremoniously entered the room, and, seemingly unconscious that he was intruding, deliberately planted himself in a chair directly opposite the laird. It was some seconds before he appeared to recognise any of the party—as, indeed, it was hard he should, for he knew and was known to none of them, but one. This one was our friend Guidyill, and him he knew to his cost; the laird having once defeated him in a law-plea about a certain pathway which passed through the corner of a field on the farmer's property. For the laird, therefore, this man, whose name was Moffat, entertained anything but a friendly feeling. It was, however, some little time before he was aware of his being in the presence of his ancient enemy on the present occasion, the liquor he had swallowed having considerably impaired his powers of discernment. These, however, at length helped him to a knowledge of the fact; and, when they had done so—
"Ho, ho, laird, are ye here?" he exclaimed, with a look and manner in which all the grudge he bore Guidyill was made manifest. "Ony law-pleas in the win' 'enow, laird—eh?"
"Was ye wantin ane?" said the laird, coolly. "I thocht I had gien ye aneugh o' that."
"Maybe ye hae, an' maybe no," replied Moffat. "But there's some things I ken, and some things I dinna. I dinna ken what ye're guid for; and I ken that ye're the biggest aul' rogue in the County o' Renfrew—a litigious, leein, cheatin rascal."
"Revise that condescendence, frien," replied the laird. "Mr Quirkum and Skimclean, I tak ye to witness what that man has said. Defamation o' character as clean's a leek—a thumpin action cut and dry. I tak instruments in your hauns, Mr Quirkum, an' employ you to do the needfu' in this case. Ye baith distinctly heard what was said, an' 'll testify to the fact when ca'ed upon in due coorse o' law."