A Legend of Montrose by Walter Scott (best big ereader .TXT) 📖

He commenced a new attack upon his landlord, upon the former ground.

“Touching that round monticle, or hill, or eminence, termed Drumsnab, I would be proud to hold some dialogue with you, Sir Duncan, on the nature of the sconce to be there constructed; and whether the angles thereof should be acute or obtuse—anent whilk I have heard the great Velt-Mareschal Bannier hold a learned argument with General Tiefenbach during a still-stand of arms.”

“Captain Dalgetty,” answered Sir Duncan very dryly, “it is not our Highland usage to debate military points with strangers. This castle is like to hold out against a stronger enemy than any force which the unfortunate gentlemen we left at Darnlinvarach are able to bring against it.”

A deep sigh from the lady accompanied the conclusion of her husband’s speech, which seemed to remind her of some painful circumstance.

“He who gave,” said the clergyman, addressing her in a solemn tone, “hath taken away. May you, honourable lady, be long enabled to say, Blessed be his name!”

To this exhortation, which seemed intended for her sole behoof, the lady answered by an inclination of her head, more humble than Captain Dalgetty had yet observed her make. Supposing he should now find her in a more conversible humour, he proceeded to accost her.

“It is indubitably very natural that your ladyship should be downcast at the mention of military preparations, whilk I have observed to spread perturbation among women of all nations, and almost all conditions. Nevertheless, Penthesilea, in ancient times, and also Joan of Arc, and others, were of a different kidney. And, as I have learned while I served the Spaniard, the Duke of Alva in former times had the leaguer-lasses who followed his camp marshalled into TERTIAS (whilk me call regiments), and officered and commanded by those of their own feminine gender, and regulated by a commander-in chief, called in German Hureweibler, or, as we would say vernacularly, Captain of the Queans. True it is, they were persons not to be named as parallel to your ladyship, being such QUAE QUAESTUM CORPORIBUS FACIEBANT, as we said of Jean Drochiels at Mareschal-College; the same whom the French term CURTISANNES, and we in Scottish—”

“The lady will spare you the trouble of further exposition, Captain Dalgetty,” said his host, somewhat sternly; to which the clergyman added, “that such discourse better befitted a watch-tower guarded by profane soldiery than the board of an honourable person, and the presence of a lady of quality.”

“Craving your pardon, Dominie, or Doctor, AUT QUOCUNQUE ALIO NOMINE GAUDES, for I would have you to know I have studied polite letters,” said the unabashed envoy, filling a great cup of wine, “I see no ground for your reproof, seeing I did not speak of those TURPES PERSONAE, as if their occupation or character was a proper subject of conversation for this lady’s presence, but simply PAR ACCIDENS, as illustrating the matter in hand, namely, their natural courage and audacity, much enhanced, doubtless, by the desperate circumstances of their condition.”

“Captain Dalgetty,” said Sir Duncan Campbell, “to break short this discourse, I must acquaint you, that I have some business to dispatch to-night, in order to enable me to ride with you to-morrow towards Inverary; and therefore—”

“To ride with this person to-morrow!” exclaimed his lady; “such cannot be your purpose, Sir Duncan, unless you have forgotten that the morrow is a sad anniversary, and dedicated to as sad a solemnity.”

“I had not forgotten,” answered Sir Duncan; “how is it possible I can ever forget? but the necessity of the times requires I should send this officer onward to Inverary, without loss of time.”

“Yet, surely, not that you should accompany him in person?” enquired the lady.

“It were better I did,” said Sir Duncan; “yet I can write to the Marquis, and follow on the subsequent day.—Captain Dalgetty, I will dispatch a letter for you, explaining to the Marquis of Argyle your character and commission, with which you will please to prepare to travel to Inverary early to-morrow morning.”

“Sir Duncan Campbell,” said Dalgetty, “I am doubtless at your discretionary disposal in this matter; not the less, I pray you to remember the blot which will fall upon your own escutcheon, if you do in any way suffer me, being a commissionate flag of truce, to be circumvented in this matter, whether CLAM, VI, VEL PRECARIO; I do not say by your assent to any wrong done to me, but even through absence of any due care on your part to prevent the same.”

“You are under the safeguard of my honour, sir,” answered Sir Duncan Campbell, “and that is more than a sufficient security. And now,” continued he, rising, “I must set the example of retiring.”

Dalgetty saw himself under the necessity of following the hint, though the hour was early; but, like a skilful general, he availed himself of every instant of delay which circumstances permitted. “Trusting to your honourable parole,” said he, filling his cup, “I drink to you, Sir Duncan, and to the continuance of your honourable-house.” A sigh from Sir Duncan was the only reply. “Also, madam,” said the soldier, replenishing the quaigh with all possible dispatch, “I drink to your honourable health, and fulfilment of all your virtuous desires—and, reverend sir” (not forgetting to fit the action to the words), “I fill this cup to the drowning of all unkindness betwixt you and Captain Dalgetty—I should say Major—and, in respect the flagon contains but one cup more, I drink to the health of all honourable cavaliers and brave soldados—and, the flask being empty, I am ready, Sir Duncan, to attend your functionary or sentinel to my place of private repose.”

He received a formal permission to retire, and an assurance, that as the wine seemed to be to his taste, another measure of the same vintage should attend him presently, in order to soothe the hours of his solitude.

No sooner had the Captain reached the apartment than this promise was fulfilled; and, in a short time afterwards, the added comforts of a pasty of red-deer venison rendered him very tolerant both of confinement and want of society. The same domestic, a sort of chamberlain, who placed this good cheer in his apartment, delivered to Dalgetty a packet, sealed and tied up with a silken thread, according to the custom of the time, addressed with many forms of respect to the High and Mighty Prince, Archibald, Marquis of Argyle, Lord of Lorne, and so forth. The chamberlain at the same time apprized the Ritt-master, that he must take horse at an early hour for Inverary, where the packet of Sir Duncan would be at once his introduction and his passport. Not forgetting that it was his object to collect information as well as to act as an envoy, and desirous, for his own sake, to ascertain Sir Duncan’s reasons for sending him onward without his personal attendance, the Ritt-master enquired the domestic, with all the precaution that his experience suggested, what were the reasons which detained Sir Duncan at home on the succeeding day. The man, who was from the Lowlands, replied, “that it was the habit of Sir Duncan and his lady to observe as a day of solemn fast and humiliation the anniversary on which their castle had been taken by surprise, and their children, to the number of four, destroyed cruelly by a band of Highland freebooters during Sir Duncan’s absence upon an expedition which the Marquis of Argyle had undertaken against the Macleans of the Isle of Mull.”