But here Bucklaw interposed in his turn. “Your fingers, Craigie, seem to itch for that same piece of green network,” said he; “but I make my vow to God, that if they offer to close upon it, I will chop them off with my whinger. Since the Master has changed his mind, I suppose we need stay here no longer; but in the first place I beg leave to tell him——”
“Tell him anything you will,” said Craigengelt, “if you will first allow me to state the inconveniences to which he will expose himself by quitting our society, to remind him of the obstacles to his remaining here, and of the difficulties attending his proper introduction at Versailles and Saint Germains without the countenance of those who have established useful connexions.”
“Besides forfeiting the friendship,” said Bucklaw, “of at least one man of spirit and honour.”
“Gentlemen,” said Ravenswood, “permit me once more to assure you that you have been pleased to attach to our temporary connexion more importance than I ever meant that it should have. When I repair to foreign courts, I shall not need the introduction of an intriguing adventurer, nor is it necessary for me to set value on the friendship of a hot-headed bully.” With these words, and without waiting for an answer, he left the apartment, remounted his horse, and was heard to ride off.
“Mortbleu!” said Captain Craigengelt, “my recruit is lost!”
“Ay, Captain,” said Bucklaw, “the salmon is off with hook and all. But I will after him, for I have had more of his insolence than I can well digest.”
Craigengelt offered to accompany him; but Bucklaw replied: “No, no, Captain, keep you the check of the chimney-nook till I come back; it’s good sleeping in a haill skin.
Little kens the auld wife that sits by the fire,
How cauld the wind blaws in hurle-burle swire.”
And singing as he went, he left the apartment.