"I think," he said, "the Master has treated me unlike a gentleman, and I see no right he had to send me back a cavalier answer when I demanded the satisfaction of one. But he gave me my life once; and, in looking the matter over at present, I put myself but on equal terms with him. Should he cross me again, Ishall consider the old accompt as balanced, and his Mastership will do well to look to himself.""That he should," re-echoed Craigengelt; "for when you are in practice, Bucklaw, I would bet a magnum you are through him before the third pass.""Then you know nothing of the matter," said Bucklaw, "and you never saw him fence.""And I know nothing of the matter?" said the dependant--"a good jest, I promise you! And though I never saw Ravenswood fence, have I not been at Monsieur Sagoon's school, who was the first maitre d'armes at Paris; and have I not been at Signor Poco's at Florence, and Meinheer Durchstossen's at Vienna, and have Inot seen all their play?"
"I don't know whether you have or not," said Bucklaw; "but what about it, though you had?""Only that I will be d--d if ever I saw French, Italian, or High-Dutchman ever make foot, hand, and eye keep time half so well as you, Bucklaw.""I believe you lie, Craigie," said Bucklaw; "however, I can hold my own, both with single rapier, backsword, sword and dagger, broadsword, or case of falchions--and that's as much as any gentleman need know of the matter.""And the doublt of what ninety-nine out of a hundred know," said Craigengelt; "they learn to chanage a few thrusts with the small sword, and then, forsooth, they understand the noble art of defence! Now, when I was at Rouen in the year 1695, there was a Chevalier de Chapon and I went to the opera, where we found three bits of English birkies----""Is it a long story you are going to tell?" said Bucklaw, interrupting him without ceremony.
"Just as you like," answered the parasite, "for we made short work of it.""Then I like it short," said Bucklaw. "Is it serious or merry?""Devilish serious, I assure you, and so they found it; for the Chevalier and I----""Then I don't like it at all," said Bucklaw; "so fill a brimmer of my auld auntie's claret, rest her heart! And, as the Hielandman says, Skioch doch na skiall.""That was what tough old Sir Even Dhu used to say to me when Iwas out with the metall'd lads in 1689. 'Craigengelt,' he used to say, 'you are as pretty a fellow as ever held steel in his grip, but you have one fault.'""If he had known you as long as I have don," said Bucklaw, "he would have found out some twenty more; but hand long stories, give us your toast, man."Craigengelt rose, went a -tiptoe to the door, peeped out, shut it carefully, came back again, clapped his tarnished gold-laced hat on one side of his head, took his glass in one hand, and touching the hilt of his hanger with the other, named, "The King over the water.""I tell you what it is, Captain Craigengelt," said Bucklaw; "Ishall keep my mind to myself on thse subjects, having too much respect for the memory of my venerable Aunt Girnington to put her lands and tenements in the way of committing treason against established authority. Bring me King James to Edinburgh, Captain, with thirty thousand men at his back, and I'll tell you what I think about his title; but as for running my neck into a noose, and my good broad lands into the statutory penalties, 'in that case made and provided,' rely upon it, you will find me no such fool. So, when you mean to vapour with your hanger and your dram-cup in support of treasonable toasts, you must find your liquor and company elsewhere.""Well, then," said Craigengelt, "name the toast yourself, and be it what it like, I'll pledge you, were it a mile to the bottom.""And I'll give you a toast that deserves it, my boy," said Bucklaw; "what say you to Miss Lucy Ashton?""Up with it," said the Captain, as he tossed off his brimmer, "the bonniest lass in Lothian! What a pity the old sneckdrawing Whigamore, her father, is about to throw her away upon that rag of pride and beggary, the Master of Ravenswood!""That's not quite so clear," said Bucklaw, in a tone which, though it seemed indifferent, excited his companion's eager curiosity; and not that only, but also his hope of working himself into soem sort of confidence, which might make him necessary to his patron, being by no means satisfied to rest on mere sufferance, if he could form by art or industry a more permanent title to his favour.
"I thought," said he, after a moment's pause, "that was a settled matter; they are continually together, and nothing else is spoken of betwixt Lammer Law and Traprain.""They may say what they please," replied his patron, "but I know better; and I'll give you Miss Lucy Ashton's health again, my boy.""And I woul drink it on my knee," said Craigengelt, "if Ithought the girl had the spirit to jilt that d--d son of a Spaniard.""I am to request you will not use the word 'jilt' and Miss Ashton's name together," said Bucklaw, gravely.
"Jilt, did I say? Discard, my lad of acres--by Jove, I meant to discard," replied Craigengelt; "and I hope she'll discard him like a small card at piquet, and take in the king of hearts, my boy! But yet----""But what?" said his patron.
"But yet I know for certain they are hours together alone, and in the woods and the fields.""That's her foolish father's dotage; that will be soon put out of the lass's head, if it ever gets into it," answered Bucklaw.
"And now fill your glass again, Captain; I am going to make you happy; I am going to let you into a secret--a plot--a noosing plot--only the noose is but typical.""A marrying matter?" said Craigengelt, and his jaw fell as he asked the question, for he suspected that matrimony would render his situation at Girnington much more precarious than during the jolly days of his patron's bachelorhood.
"Ay, a marriage, man," said Bucklaw; "but wherefore droops they might spirit, and why grow the rubies on they cheek so pale?
