“To Tannonburgh, my leddy” (which was the first stage from Fairport, but a good deal nearer to Knockwinnock), “and that without delay—it’s a’ on your ain business.”
“Our business, Edie? Alas! I give you all credit for your good meaning; but”—
“There’s nae buts about it, my leddy, for gang I maun,” said the persevering Blue-Gown.
“But what is it that you would do at Tannonburgh?—or how can your going there benefit my father’s affairs?”
“Indeed, my sweet leddy,” said the gaberlunzie, “ye maun just trust that bit secret to auld Edie’s grey pow, and ask nae questions about it. Certainly if I wad hae wared my life for you yon night, I can hae nae reason to play an ill pliskie t’ye in the day o’ your distress.”
“Well, Edie, follow me then,” said Miss Wardour, “and I will try to get you sent to Tannonburgh.”
“Mak haste then, my bonny leddy—mak haste, for the love o’ goodness!”— and he continued to exhort her to expedition until they reached the Castle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.
Let those go see who will—I like it not—
For, say he was a slave to rank and pomp,
And all the nothings he is now divorced from
By the hard doom of stern necessity:
Yet it is sad to mark his altered brow,
Where Vanity adjusts her flimsy veil
O’er the deep wrinkles of repentant anguish.
Old Play.