“Troth, Mareschal-Wells,” answered Hobbie, “I am just come here, wi’ twenty or thretty mair o’ us, in my ain name and the King’s—or Queen’s, ca’ they her? and Canny Elshie’s into the bargain, to keep the peace, and pay back some ill usage Ellieslaw has gien me. A bonny breakfast the loons gae me the ither morning, and him at the bottom on’t; and trow ye I wasna ready to supper him up?—Ye needna lay your hands on your swords, gentlemen, the house is ours wi’ little din; for the doors were open, and there had been ower muckle punch amang your folk; we took their swords and pistols as easily as ye wad shiel pea-cods.”
Mareschal rushed out, and immediately re-entered the chapel.
“By Heaven! it is true, Sir Frederick; the house is filled with armed men, and our drunken beasts are all disarmed. Draw, and let us fight our way.”
“Binna rash—binna rash,” exclaimed Hobbie; “hear me a bit, hear me a bit. We mean ye nae harm; but, as ye are in arms for King James, as ye ca’ him, and the prelates, we thought it right to keep up the auld neighbour war, and stand up for the t’other ane and the Kirk; but we’ll no hurt a hair o’ your heads, if ye like to gang hame quietly. And it will be your best way, for there’s sure news come frae Loudoun, that him they ca’ Bang, or Byng, or what is’t, has bang’d the French ships and the new king aff the coast however; sae ye had best bide content wi’ auld Nanse for want of a better Queen.”
Ratcliffe, who at this moment entered, confirmed these accounts so unfavourable to the Jacobite interest. Sir Frederick, almost instantly, and without taking leave of any one, left the castle, with such of his attendants as were able to follow him.
“And what will you do, Mr. Mareschal?” said Ratcliffe.
“Why, faith,” answered he, smiling, “I hardly know; my spirit is too great, and my fortune too small, for me to follow the example of the doughty bridegroom. It is not in my nature, and it is hardly worth my while.”
“Well, then, disperse your men, and remain quiet, and this will be overlooked, as there has been no overt act.”
“Hout, ay,” said Elliot, “just let byganes be byganes, and a’ friends again; deil ane I bear malice at but Westburnflat, and I hae gien him baith a het skin and a cauld ane. I hadna changed three blows of the broadsword wi’ him before he lap the window into the castle-moat, and swattered through it like a wild-duck. He’s a clever fallow, indeed! maun kilt awa wi’ ae bonny lass in the morning, and another at night, less wadna serve him! but if he disna kilt himsell out o’ the country, I’se kilt him wi’ a tow, for the Castleton meeting’s clean blawn ower; his friends will no countenance him.”
During the general confusion, Isabella had thrown herself at the feet of her kinsman, Sir Edward Mauley, for so we must now call the Solitary, to express at once her gratitude, and to beseech forgiveness for her father. The eyes of all began to be fixed on them, as soon as their own agitation and the bustle of the attendants had somewhat abated. Miss Vere kneeled beside the tomb of her mother, to whose statue her features exhibited a marked resemblance. She held the hand of the Dwarf, which she kissed repeatedly and bathed with tears. He stood fixed and motionless, excepting that his eyes glanced alternately on the marble figure and the living suppliant. At length, the large drops which gathered on his eye-lashes compelled him to draw his hand across them.