When this dignitary had advanced up to Butler and to Jeanie, “I take the freedom, Mr. Deans,” he said in a very consequential manner, “to salute your daughter, whilk I presume this young lass to be—I kiss every pretty girl that comes to Roseneath, in virtue of my office.” Having made this gallant speech, he took out his quid, saluted Jeanie with a hearty smack, and bade her welcome to Argyle’s country. Then addressing Butler, he said, “Ye maun gang ower and meet the carle ministers yonder the Morn, for they will want to do your job, and synd it down with usquebaugh doubtless—they seldom make dry wark in this kintra.”
“And the Laird”—said David Deans, addressing Butler in farther explanation—
“The Captain, man,” interrupted Duncan; “folk winna ken wha ye are speaking aboot, unless ye gie shentlemens their proper title.”
“The Captain, then,” said David, “assures me that the call is unanimous on the part of the parishioners—a real harmonious call, Reuben.”
“I pelieve,” said Duncan, “it was as harmonious as could pe expected, when the tae half o’ the bodies were clavering Sassenach, and the t’other skirting Gaelic, like sea-maws and clackgeese before a storm. Ane wad hae needed the gift of tongues to ken preceesely what they said—but I pelieve the best end of it was, ‘Long live MacCallummore and Knockdunder!’—And as to its being an unanimous call, I wad be glad to ken fat business the carles have to call ony thing or ony body but what the Duke and mysell likes!”
“Nevertheless,” said Mr. Butler, “if any of the parishioners have any scruples, which sometimes happen in the mind of sincere professors, I should be happy of an opportunity of trying to remove—”
“Never fash your peard about it, man,” interrupted Duncan Knock—“Leave it a’ to me.—Scruple! deil ane o’ them has been bred up to scruple onything that they’re bidden to do. And if sic a thing suld happen as ye speak o’, ye sall see the sincere professor, as ye ca’ him, towed at the stern of my boat for a few furlongs. I’ll try if the water of the Haly Loch winna wash off scruples as weel as fleas—Cot tam!”
The rest of Duncan’s threat was lost in a growling gargling sort of sound, which he made in his throat, and which menaced recusants with no gentle means of conversion. David Deans would certainly have given battle in defence of the right of the Christian congregation to be consulted in the choice of their own pastor, which, in his estimation, was one of the choicest and most inalienable of their privileges; but he had again engaged in close conversation with Jeanie, and, with more interest than he was in use to take in affairs foreign alike to his occupation and to his religious tenets, was inquiring into the particulars of her London journey. This was, perhaps, fortunate for the newformed friendship betwixt him and the Captain of Knockdunder, which rested, in David’s estimation, upon the proofs he had given of his skill in managing stock; but, in reality, upon the special charge transmitted to Duncan from the Duke and his agent, to behave with the utmost attention to Deans and his family.
“And now, sirs,” said Duncan, in a commanding tone, “I am to pray ye a’ to come in to your supper, for yonder is Mr. Archibald half famished, and a Saxon woman, that looks as if her een were fleeing out o’ her head wi’ fear and wonder, as if she had never seen a shentleman in a philabeg pefore.”
“And Reuben Butler,” said David, “will doubtless desire instantly to retire, that he may prepare his mind for the exercise of to-morrow, that his work may suit the day, and be an offering of a sweet savour in the nostrils of the reverend Presbytery!”