They had now risen to retire to their apartments for the night, when Colonel Mannering walked up to Bertram, as he stood astonished at the Counsellor’s words. “I give you joy,” he said, “of the prospects which fate has opened before you. I was an early friend of your father, and chanced to be in the house of Ellangowan, as unexpectedly as you are now in mine, upon the very night in which you were born. I little knew this circumstance when--but I trust unkindness will be forgotten between us. Believe me, your appearance here as Mr. Brown, alive and well, has relieved me from most painful sensations; and your right to the name of an old friend renders your presence as Mr. Bertram doubly welcome.”
“And my parents?” said Bertram.
“Are both no more; and the family property has been sold, but I trust may be recovered. Whatever is wanted to make your right effectual I shall be most happy to supply.”
“Nay, you may leave all that to me,” said the Counsellor; “‘t is my vocation, Hal; I shall make money of it.”
“I’m sure it’s no for the like o’me,” observed Dinmont, “to speak to you gentlefolks; but if siller would help on the Captain’s plea, and they say nae plea gangs ain weel without it--”
“Except on Saturday night,” said Pleydell.
“Ay, but when your honour wadna take your fee ye wadna hae the cause neither, sae I’ll ne’er fash you on a Saturday at e’en again. But I was saying, there’s some siller in the spleuchan that’s like the Captain’s ain, for we’ve aye counted it such, baith Ailie and me.”
‘No, no, Liddesdale; no occasion, no occasion whatever. Keep thy cash to stock thy farm.’
‘To stock my farm? Mr. Pleydell, your honour kens mony things, but ye dinna ken the farm o’ Charlie’s Hope; it’s sae weel stockit already that we sell maybe sax hundred pounds off it ilka year, flesh and fell the gither; na, na.’
‘Can’t you take another then?’