The Bride of Lammermoor Read online

  CHAPTER VII.

  Now, Billy Berwick, keep good heart, And of they talking let me be; But if thou art a man, as I am sure thou art, Come over the dike and fight with me.

  Old Ballad.

  THE Master of Ravenswood had mounted the ambling hackney which he beforerode, on finding the accident which had happened to his led horse, and,for the animal's ease, was proceeding at a slow pace from the Tod's Dentowards his old tower of Wolf's Crag, when he heard the galloping of ahorse behind him, and, looking back, perceived that he was pursued byyoung Bucklaw, who had been delayed a few minutes in the pursuit bythe irresistable temptation of giving the hostler at the Tod's Den somerecipe for treating the lame horse. This brief delay he had made up byhard galloping, and now overtook the Master where the road traverseda waste moor. "Halt, sir," cried Bucklaw; "I am no political agent--noCaptain Craigengelt, whose life is too important to be hazarded indefence of his honour. I am Frank Hayston of Bucklaw, and no man injuresme by word, deed, sign, or look, but he must render me an account ofit."

  "This is all very well, Mr. Hayston of Bucklaw," replied the Masterof Ravenswood, in a tone the most calm and indifferent; "but I have noquarrel with you, and desire to have none. Our roads homeward, as wellas our roads through life, lie in different directions; there is nooccasion for us crossing each other."

  "Is there not?" said Bucklaw, impetuously. "By Heaven! but I say thatthere is, though: you called us intriguing adventurers."

  "Be correct in your recollection, Mr. Hayston it was to your companiononly I applied that epithet, and you know him to be no better."

  "And what then? He was my companion for the time, and no man shallinsult my companion, right or wrong, while he is in my company."

  "Then, Mr. Hayston," replied Ravenswood, with the same composure, "youshould choose your society better, or you are like to have much workin your capacity of their champion. Go home, sir; sleep, and have morereason in your wrath to-morrow."

  "Not so, Master, you have mistaken your man; high airs and wise sawsshall not carry it off thus. Besides, you termed me bully, and you shallretract the word before we part."

  "Faith, scarcely," said Ravenswood, "unless you show me better reasonfor thinking myself mistaken than you are now producing."

  "Then, Master," said Bucklaw, "though I should be sorry to offer it to aman of your quality, if you will not justify your incivility, or retractit, or name a place of meeting, you must here undergo the hard word andthe hard blow."

  "Neither will be necessary," said Ravenswood; "I am satisfied with whatI have done to avoid an affair with you. If you are serious, this placewill serve as well as another."

  "Dismount then, and draw," said Bucklaw, setting him an example. "Ialways thought and said you were a pretty man; I should be sorry toreport you otherwise."

  "You shall have no reason, sir," said Ravenswood, alighting, and puttinghimself into a posture of defence.

  Their swords crossed, and the combat commenced with great spirit on thepart of Bucklaw, who was well accustomed to affairs of the kind, anddistinguished by address and dexterity at his weapon. In the presentcase, however, he did not use his skill to advantage; for, havinglost temper at the cool and contemptuous manner in which the Master ofRavenswood had long refused, and at length granted, him satisfaction,and urged by his impatience, he adopted the part of an assailant withinconsiderate eagerness. The Master, with equal skill, and much greatercomposure, remained chiefly on the defensive, and even declined to availhimself of one or two advantages afforded him by the eagerness of hisadversary. At length, in a desperate lunge, which he followed withan attempt to close, Bucklaw's foot slipped, and he fell on the shortgrassy turf on which they were fighting. "Take your life, sir," said theMaster of Ravenswood, "and mend it if you can."

  "It would be but a cobbled piece of work, I fear," said Bucklaw, risingslowly and gathering up his sword, much less disconcerted with the issueof the combat than could have been expected from the impetuosity ofhis temper. "I thank you for my life, Master," he pursued. "There is myhand; I bear no ill-will to you, either for my bad luck or your betterswordsmanship."

  The Master looked steadily at him for an instant, then extended his handto him. "Bucklaw," he said, "you are a generous fellow, and I have doneyou wrong. I heartily ask your pardon for the expression which offendedyou; it was hastily and incautiously uttered, and I am convinced it istotally misapplied."

  "Are you indeed, Master?" said Bucklaw, his face resuming at once itsnatural expression of light-hearted carelessness and audacity; "that ismore than I expected of you; for, Master, men say you are not ready toretract your opinion and your language."

  "Not when I have well considered them," said the Master.

  "Then you are a little wiser than I am, for I always give my friendsatisfaction first, and explanation afterwards. If one of us falls, allaccounts are settled; if not, men are never so ready for peace as afterwar. But what does that bawling brat of a boy want?" said Bucklaw. "Iwish to Heaven he had come a few minutes sooner! and yet it must havebeen ended some time, and perhaps this way is as well as any other."

  As he spoke, the boy he mentioned came up, cudgelling an ass, on whichhe was mounted, to the top of its speed, and sending, like one ofOssian's heroes, his voice before him: "Gentlemen--gentlemen, saveyourselves! for the gudewife bade us tell ye there were folk in herhouse had taen Captain Craigengelt, and were seeking for Bucklaw, andthat ye behoved to ride for it." "By my faith, and that's very true, myman" said Bucklaw; "and there's a silver sixpence for your news, and Iwould give any man twice as much would tell me which way I should ride."

  "That will I, Bucklaw," said Ravenswood; "ride home to Wolf's Crag withme. There are places in the old tower where you might lie hid, were athousand men to seek you."

  "But that will bring you into trouble yourself, Master; and unless yoube in the Jacobite scrape already, it is quite needless for me to dragyou in."

  "Not a whit; I have nothing to fear."

  "Then I will ride with you blythely, for, to say the truth, I do notknow the rendezvous that Craigie was to guide us to this night; and I amsure that, if he is taken, he will tell all the truth of me, and twentylies of you, in order to save himself from the withie."

  They mounted and rode off in company accordingly, striking off theordinary road, and holding their way by wild moorish unfrequented paths,with which the gentlemen were well acquainted from the exercise ofthe chase, but through which others would have had much difficulty intracing their course. They rode for some time in silence, making suchhaste as the condition of Ravenswood's horse permitted, until nighthaving gradually closed around them, they discontinued their speed, bothfrom the difficulty of discovering their path, and from the hope thatthey were beyond the reach of pursuit or observation.

  "And now that we have drawn bridle a bit," said Bucklaw, "I would fainask you a question, Master."

  "Ask and welcome," said Ravenswood, "but forgive not answering it,unless I think proper."

  "Well, it is simply this," answered his late antagonist "What, inthe name of old Sathan, could make you, who stand so highly on yourreputation, think for a moment of drawing up with such a rogue asCraigengelt, and such a scapegrace as folk call Bucklaw?"

  "Simply, because I was desperate, and sought desperate associates."

  "And what made you break off from us at the nearest?" again demandedBucklaw.

  "Because I had changed my mind," said the Master, "and renounced myenterprise, at least for the present. And now that I have answered yourquestions fairly and frankly, tell me what makes you associate withCraigengelt, so much beneath you both in birth and in spirit?"

  "In plain terms," answered Bucklaw, "because I am a fool, who havegambled away my land in thse times. My grand-aunt, Lady Girnington, hastaen a new tack of life, I think, and I could only hope to get somethingby a change of government. Craigie was a sort of gambling acquaintance;he saw my condition, and, as the devil is always at one's elbow, toldme fi
fty lies about his credentials from Versailles, and his interest atSaint Germains, promised me a captain's commission at Paris, and I havebeen ass enough to put my thumb under his belt. I dare say, by thistime, he has told a dozen pretty stories of me to the government. Andthis is what I have got by wine, women, and dice, cocks, dogs, andhorses."

  "Yes, Bucklaw," said the Master, "you have indeed nourished in yourbosom the snakes that are now stinging you."

  "That's home as well as true, Master," replied his companion "but, byyour leave, you have nursed in your bosom one great goodly snakethat has swallowed all the rest, and is as sure to devour you as myhalf-dozen are to make a meal on all that's left of Bucklaw, which isbut what lies between bonnet and boot-heel."

  "I must not," answered the Master of Ravenswood, "challenge thefreedom of speech in which I have set example. What, to speak withouta metaphor, do you call this monstrous passion which you charge me withfostering?"

  "Revenge, my good sir--revenge; which, if it be as gentle manlike a sinas wine and wassail, with their et coeteras, is equally unchristian, andnot so bloodless. It is better breaking a park-pale to watch a doe ordamsel than to shoot an old man."

  "I deny the purpose," said the Master of Ravenswood. "On my soul, I hadno such intention I meant but to confront the oppressor ere I left mynative land, and upbraid him with his tyranny and its consequences.I would have stated my wrongs so that they would have shaken his soulwithin him."

  "Yes," answered Bucklaw, "and he would have collared you, and cried'help,' and then you would have shaken the soul OUT of him, I suppose.Your very look and manner would have frightened the old man to death."

  "Consider the provocation," answered Ravenswood--"consider the ruin anddeath procured and caused by his hard-hearted cruelty--an ancient housedestroyed, an affectionate father murdered! Why, in our old Scottishdays, he that sat quiet under such wrongs would have been held neitherfit to back a friend nor face a foe."

  "Well, Master, I am glad to see that the devil deals as cunningly withother folk as he deals with me; for whenever I am about to commit anyfolly, he persuades me it is the most necessary, gallant, gentlemanlikething on earth, and I am up to saddlegirths in the bog before I see thatthe ground is soft. And you, Master, might have turned out a murd----ahomicide, just out of pure respect for your father's memory."

  "There is more sense in your language, Bucklaw," replied the Master,"than might have been expected from your conduct. It is too true, ourvices steal upon us in forms outwardly as fair as those of the demonswhom the superstitious represent as intriguing with the human race, andare not discovered in their native hideousness until we have claspedthem in our arms."

  "But we may throw them from us, though," said Bucklaw, "and that iswhat I shall think of doing one of these days--that is, when old LadyGirnington dies."

  "Did you ever hear the expression of the English divine?" saidRavenswood--"'Hell is paved with good intentions,'--as much as to say,they are more often formed than executed."

  "Well," replied Bucklaw, "but I will begin this blessed night, and havedetermined not to drink above one quart of wine, unless your claret beof extraordinary quality."

  "You will find little to tempt you at Wolf's Crag," said the Master. "Iknow not that I can promise you more than the shelter of my roof; all,and more than all, our stock of wine and provisions was exhausted at thelate occasion."

  "Long may it be ere provision is needed for the like purpose," answeredBucklaw; "but you should not drink up the last flask at a dirge; thereis ill luck in that."

  "There is ill luck, I think, in whatever belongs to me," saidRavenswood. "But yonder is Wolf's Crag, and whatever it still containsis at your service."

  The roar of the sea had long announced their approach to the cliffs, onthe summit of which, like the nest of some sea-eagle, the founder of thefortalice had perched his eyrie. The pale moon, which had hitherto beencontending with flitting clouds, now shone out, and gave them a viewof the solitary and naked tower, situated on a projecting cliff thatbeetled on the German Ocean. On three sides the rock was precipitous;on the fourth, which was that towards the land, it had been originallyfenced by an artificial ditch and drawbridge, but the latter was brokendown and ruinous, and the former had been in part filled up, so as toallow passage for a horseman into the narrow courtyard, encircled on twosides with low offices and stables, partly ruinous, and closed on thelandward front by a low embattled wall, while the remaining side of thequadrangle was occupied by the tower itself, which, tall and narrow, andbuilt of a greyish stone, stood glimmering in the moonlight, likethe sheeted spectre of some huge giant. A wilder or more disconsolatedwelling it was perhaps difficult to conceive. The sombrous and heavysound of the billows, successively dashing against the rocky beach at aprofound distance beneath, was to the ear what the landscape was to theeye--a symbol of unvaried and monotonous melancholy, not unmingled withhorror.

  Although the night was not far advanced, there was no sign of livinginhabitant about this forlorn abode, excepting that one, and onlyone, of the narrow and stanchelled windows which appeared at irregularheights and distances in the walls of the building showed a smallglimmer of light.

  "There," said Ravenswood, "sits the only male domestic that remains tothe house of Ravenswood; and it is well that he does remain there, sinceotherwise we had little hope to find either light or fire. But follow mecautiously; the road is narrow, and admits only one horse in front."

  In effect, the path led along a kind of isthmus, at the peninsularextremity of which the tower was situated, with that exclusive attentionto strength and security, in preference to every circumstances ofconvenience, which dictated to the Scottish barons the choice of theirsituations, as well as their style of building.

  By adopting the cautious mode of approach recommended by the proprietorof this wild hold, they entered the courtyard in safety. But it was longere the efforts of Ravenswood, though loudly exerted by knocking at thelow-browed entrance, and repeated shouts to Caleb to open the gate andadmit them, received any answer.

  "The old man must be departed," he began to say, "or fallen into somefit; for the noise I have made would have waked the seven sleepers."

  At length a timid and hesitating voice replied: "Master--Master ofRavenswood, is it you?"

  "Yes, it is I, Caleb; open the door quickly."

  "But it is you in very blood and body? For I would sooner face fiftydeevils as my master's ghaist, or even his wraith; wherefore, aroint ye,if ye were ten times my master, unless ye come in bodily shape, lith andlimb." "It is I, you old fool," answered Ravenswood, "in bodily shapeand alive, save that I am half dead with cold."

  The light at the upper window disappeared, and glancing from loophole toloophole in slow succession, gave intimation that the bearer was inthe act of descending, with great deliberation, a winding staircaseoccupying one of the turrets which graced the angles of the old tower.The tardiness of his descent extracted some exclamations of impatiencefrom Ravenswood, and several oaths from his less patient and moremecurial companion. Caleb again paused ere he unbolted the door, andonce more asked if they were men of mould that demanded entrance at thistime of night.

  "Were I near you, you old fool," said Bucklaw, "I would give yousufficient proofs of MY bodily condition."

  "Open the gate, Caleb," said his master, in a more soothing tone, partlyfrom his regard to the ancient and faithful seneschal, partly perhapsbecause he thought that angry words would be thrown away, so long asCaleb had a stout iron-clenched oaken door betwixt his person and thespeakers.

  At length Caleb, with a trembling hand, undid the bars, opened theheavy door, and stood before them, exhibiting his thin grey hairs, baldforehead, and sharp high features, illuminated by a quivering lamp whichhe held in one hand, while he shaded and protected its flame with theother. The timorous, courteous glance which he threw around him, theeffect of the partial light upon his white hair and illumined features,might have made a good painting; but our travellers were too impatientfor
security against the rising storm to permit them to indulgethemselves in studying the picturesque. "Is it you, my dear master?--isit you yourself, indeed?" exclaimed the old domestic. "I am wae ye suldhae stude waiting at your ain gate; but wha wad hae thought o' seeing yesae sune, and a strange gentleman with a--(Here he exclaimed apart, asit were, and to some inmate of the tower, in a voice not meant to beheard by those in the court)--Mysie--Mysie, woman! stir for dear life,and get the fire mended; take the auld three-legged stool, or onything that's readiest that will make a lowe. I doubt we are but puirlyprovided, no expecting ye this some months, when doubtless ye washae been received conform till your rank, as gude right is; butnatheless----"

  "Natheless, Caleb," said the Master, "we must have our horses put up,and ourselves too, the best way we can. I hope you are not sorry to seeme sooner than you expected?"

  "Sorry, my lord! I am sure ye sall aye be my lord wi' honest folk, asyour noble ancestors hae been these three hundred years, and never askeda Whig's leave. Sorry to see the Lord of Ravenswood at ane o' his aincastles! (Then again apart to his unseen associate behind the screen)Mysie, kill the brood-hen without thinking twice on it; let them carethat come ahint. No to say it's our best dwelling," he added, turningto Bucklaw; "but just a strength for the Lord of Ravenswood to fleeuntil--that is, no to FLEE, but to retreat until in troublous times,like the present, when it was ill convenient for him to live farther inthe country in ony of his better and mair principal manors; but, for itsantiquity, maist folk think that the outside of Wolf's Crag is worthy ofa large perusal."

  "And you are determined we shall have time to make it," said Ravenswood,somewhat amused with the shifts the old man used to detain them withoutdoors until his confederate Mysie had made her preparations within.

  "Oh, never mind the outside of the house, my good friend," said Bucklaw;"let's see the inside, and let our horses see the stable, that's all.""Oh yes, sir--ay, sir--unquestionably, sir--my lord and ony of hishonourable companions----"

  "But our horses, my friend--our horses; they will be dead-founded bystanding here in the cold after riding hard, and mine is too good to bespoiled; therefore, once more, our horses!" exclaimed Bucklaw.

  "True--ay--your horses--yes--I will call the grooms"; and sturdily didCaleb roar till the old tower rang again: "John--William--Saunders!The lads are gane out, or sleeping," he observed, after pausing for ananswer, which he knew that he had no human chance of receiving. "A'gaes wrang when the Master's out-bye; but I'll take care o' your cattlemysell."

  "I think you had better," said Ravenswood, "otherwise I see littlechance of their being attended to at all."

  "Whisht, my lord--whisht, for God's sake," said Caleb, in an imploringtone, and apart to his master; "if ye dinna regard your ain credit,think on mine; we'll hae hard eneugh wark to make a decent night o't,wi' a' the lees I can tell."

  "Well, well, never mind," said his master; "go to the stable. There ishay and corn, I trust?"

  "Ou ay, plenty of hay and corn"; this was uttered boldly and aloud, and,in a lower tone, "there was some half fous o' aits, and some taits o'meadow-hay, left after the burial."

  "Very well," said Ravenswood, taking the lamp from his domestic'sunwilling hand, "I will show the stranger upstairs myself."

  "I canna think o' that, my lord; if ye wad but have five minutes, or tenminutes, or, at maist, a quarter of an hour's patience, and look at thefine moonlight prospect of the Bass and North Berwick Law till I sortthe horses, I would marshal ye up, as reason is ye suld be marshalled,your lordship and your honourable visitor. And I hae lockit up thesiller candlesticks, and the lamp is not fit----"

  "It will do very well in the mean time," said Ravenswood, "and you willhave no difficulty for want of light in the stable, for, if I recollect,half the roof is off."

  "Very true, my lord," replied the trusty adherent, and with ready witinstantly added, "and the lazy sclater loons have never come to put iton a' this while, your lordship."

  "If I were disposed to jest at the calamities of my house," saidRavenswood, as he led the way upstairs, "poor old Caleb would furnish mewith ample means. His passion consists in representing things about ourmiserable menage, not as they are, but as, in his opinion, they oughtto be; and, to say the truth, I have been often diverted with the poorwretch's expedients to supply what he though was essential for the creditof the family, and his still more generous apologies for the want ofthose articles for which his ingenuity could discover no substitute.But though the tower is none of the largest, I shall have some troublewithout him to find the apartment in which there is a fire."

  As he spoke thus, he opened the door of the hall. "Here, at least," hesaid, "there is neither hearth nor harbour."

  It was indeed a scene of desolation. A large vaulted room, the beams ofwhich, combined like those of Westminster Hall, were rudely carved atthe extremities, remained nearly in the situation in which it had beenleft after the entertainment at Allan Lord Ravenswood's funeral.Overturned pitchers, and black-jacks, and pewter stoups, and flagonsstill cumbered the large oaken table; glasses, those more perishableimplements of conviviality, many of which had been voluntarilysacrificed by the guests in their enthusiastic pledges to favouritetoasts, strewed the stone floor with their fragments. As for thearticles of plate, lent for the purpose by friends and kinsfolk, thosehad been carefully withdrawn so soon as the ostentatious display offestivity, equally unnecessary and strangely timed, had been made andended. Nothing, in short, remained that indicated wealth; all the signswere those of recent wastefulness and present desolation. The blackcloth hangings, which, on the late mournful occasion, replaced thetattered moth-eaten tapestries, had been partly pulled down, and,dangling from the wall in irregular festoons, disclosed the roughstonework of the building, unsmoothed either by plaster or the chisel.The seats thrown down, or left in disorder, intimated the carelessconfusion which had concluded the mournful revel. "This room," saidRavenswood, holding up the lamp--"this room, Mr. Hayston, was riotouswhen it should have been sad; it is a just retribution that it shouldnow be sad when it ought to be cheerful."

  They left this disconsolate apartment, and went upstairs, where, afteropening one or two doors in vain, Ravenswood led the way into a littlematted ante-room, in which, to their great joy, they found a tolerablygood fire, which Mysie, by some such expedient as Caleb had suggested,had supplied with a reasonable quantity of fuel. Glad at the heart to seemore of comfort than the castle had yet seemed to offer, Bucklaw rubbedhis hands heartily over the fire, and now listened with more complacencyto the apologies which the Master of Ravenswood offered. "Comfort," hesaid, "I cannot provide for you, for I have it not for myself; itis long since these walls have known it, if, indeed, they were everacquainted with it. Shelter and safety, I think, I can promise you."

  "Excellent matters, Master," replied Bucklaw, "and, with a mouthful offood and wine, positively all I can require to-night."

  "I fear," said the Master, "your supper will be a poor one; I hearthe matter in discussion betwixt Caleb and Mysie. Poor Balderstone issomething deaf, amongst his other accomplishments, so that much of whathe means should be spoken aside is overheard by the whole audience, andespecially by those from whom he is most anxious to conceal his privatemanoeuvres. Hark!"

  They listened, and heard the old domestic's voice in conversation withMysie to the following effect:

  "Just mak the best o't--make the besto't, woman; it's easy to put a fairface on ony thing."

  "But the auld brood-hen? She'll be as teugh as bow-strings andbend-leather!"

  "Say ye made a mistake--say ye made a mistake, Mysie," replied thefaithful seneschal, in a soothing and undertoned voice; "tak it a' onyoursell; never let the credit o' the house suffer."

  "But the brood-hen," remonstrated Mysie--"ou, she's sitting some gateaneath the dais in the hall, and I am feared to gae in in the dark forthe dogle; and if I didna see the bogle, I could as ill see the hen, forit's pit-mirk, and there's no another light in the house, save that verybles
sed lamp whilk the Master has in his ain hand. And if I had the hen,she's to pu', and to draw, and to dress; how can I do that, and themsitting by the only fire we have?"

  "Weel, weel, Mysie," said the butler, "bide ye there a wee, and I'll tryto get the lamp wiled away frae them."

  Accordingly, Caleb Balderstone entered the apartment, little aware thatso much of his by-play had been audible there. "Well, Caleb, my oldfriend, is there any chance of supper?" said the Master of Ravenswood.

  "CHANCE of supper, your lordship?" said Caleb, with an emphasis ofstrong scorn at the implied doubt. "How should there be ony questionof that, and us in your lordship's house? Chance of supper, indeed! Butye'll no be for butcher-meat? There's walth o' fat poultry, ready eitherfor spit or brander. The fat capon, Mysie!" he added, calling out asboldly as if such a thing had been in existence.

  "Quite unnecessary," said Bucklaw, who deemed himself bound in courtesyto relieve some part of the anxious butler's perplexity, "if you haveanything cold, or a morsel of bread."

  "The best of bannocks!" exclaimed Caleb, much relieve; "and, for cauldmeat, a' that we hae is cauld eneugh,--how-beit, maist of the cauld meatand pastry was gien to the poor folk after the ceremony of interment, asgude reason was; nevertheless----"

  "Come, Caleb," said the Master of Ravenswood, "I must cut this mattershort. This is the young Laird of Bucklaw; he is under hiding, andtherefore, you know----"

  "He'll be nae nicer than your lordship's honour, I'se warrant," answeredCaleb, cheerfully, with a nod of intelligence; "I am sorry that thegentleman is under distress, but I am blythe that he canna say muckleagane our housekeeping, for I believe his ain pinches may matach ours;no that we are pinched, thank God," he added, retracting the admissionwhich he had made in his first burst of joy, "but nae doubt we are wauraff than we hae been, or suld be. And for eating--what signifies tellinga lee? there's just the hinder end of the mutton-ham that has been butthree times on the table, and the nearer the bane the sweeter, as yourhonours weel ken; and--there's the heel of the ewe-milk kebbuck, wi' abit of nice butter, and--and--that's a' that's to trust to." And withgreat alacrity he produced his slender stock of provisions, and placedthem with much formality upon a small round table betwixt the twogentlemen, who were not deterred either by the homely quality or limitedquantity of the repast from doing it full justice. Caleb in the meanwhile waited on them with grave officiousness, as if anxious to make up,by his own respectful assiduity, for the want of all other attendance.

  But, alas! how little on such occasions can form, however anxiously andscrupulously observed, supply the lack of substantial fare! Bucklaw,who had eagerly eaten a considerable portion of the thrice-sackedmutton-ham, now began to demand ale.

  "I wadna just presume to recommend our ale," said Caleb; "the maut wasill made, and there was awfu' thunner last week; but siccan water as theTower well has ye'll seldome see, Bucklaw, and that I'se engage for."

  "But if your ale is bad, you can let us have some wine," said Bucklaw,making a grimace at the mention of the pure element which Caleb soearnestly recommended.

  "Wine!" answered Caleb, undauntedly, "eneugh of wine! It was but twadays syne--wae's me for the cause--there was as much wine drunk in thishouse as would have floated a pinnace. There never was lack of wine atWolf's Crag."

  "Do fetch us some then," said the master, "instead of talking about it."And Caleb boldly departed.

  Every expended butt in the old cellar did he set a-tilt, and shake withthe desperate expectation of collecting enough of the grounds of claretto fill the large pewter measure which he carred in his hand. Alas!each had been too devoutly drained; and, with all the squeezing andmanoeuvring which his craft as a butler suggested, he could only collectabout half a quart that seemed presentable. Still, however, Caleb wastoo good a general to renounce the field without a strategem to coverhis retreat. He undauntedly threw down an empty flagon, as if he hadstumbled at the entrance of the apartment, called upon Mysie to wipe upthe wine that had never been spilt, and placing the other vessel on thetable, hoped there was still enough left for their honours. Therewas indeed; for even Bucklaw, a sworn friend to the grape, found noencouragement to renew his first attack upon the vintage of Wolf'sCrag, but contented himself, however reluctantly, with a draught offair water. Arrangements were now made for his repose; and as thesecret chamber was assigned for this purpose, it furnished Caleb with afirst-rate and most plausible apology for all deficiencies of furniture,bedding, etc.

  "For wha," said he, "would have thought of the secret chaumer beingneeded? It has not been used since the time of the Gowrie Conspiracy,and I durst never let a woman ken of the entrance to it, or your honourwill allow that it wad not hae been a secret chaumer lang."