书城公版The Art of Writing
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第92章

Od, he showed muckle mair spunk, too, than Ithought had been in him--I thought he wad hae sent cauld iron through the vagabond--Sir Arthur wasna half sae bauld at Bessie's-apron yon night--but then, his blood was up even now, and that makes an unco difference.I hae seen mony a man wad hae felled another an anger him, that wadna muckle hae liked a clink against Crummies-horn yon time.But what's to be done?''

``I suppose,'' said Lovel, ``his faith in this fellow is entirely restored by this deception, which, unquestionably, he had arranged beforehand.''

``What! the siller?--Ay, ay--trust him for that--they that hide ken best where to find.He wants to wile him out o' his last guinea, and then escape to his ain country, the land-louper.

I wad likeit weel just to hae come in at the clipping-time, and gien him a lounder wi' my pike-staff; he wad hae taen it for a bennison frae some o' the auld dead abbots.But it's best no to be rash; sticking disna gang by strength, but by the guiding o' the gally.I'se be upsides wi' him ae day.''

``What if you should inform Mr.Oldbuck?'' said Lovel.

``Ou, I dinna ken--Monkbarns and Sir Arthur are like, and yet they're no like neither.Monkbarns has whiles influence wi' him, and whiles Sir Arthur cares as little about him as about the like o' me.Monkbarns is no that ower wise himsell, in some things;--he wad believe a bodle to be an auld Roman coin, as he ca's it, or a ditch to be a camp, upon ony leasing that idle folk made about it.I hae garr'd him trow mony a queer tale mysell, gude forgie me.But wi' a' that, he has unco little sympathy wi' ither folks; and he's snell and dure eneugh in casting up their nonsense to them, as if he had nane o' his ain.He'll listen the hale day, an yell tell him about tales o' Wallace, and Blind Harry, and Davie Lindsay; but ye maunna speak to him about ghaists or fairies, or spirits walking the earth, or the like o' that;--he had amaist flung auld Caxon out o' the window (and he might just as weel hae flung awa his best wig after him), for threeping he had seen a ghaist at the humlock-knowe.Now, if he was taking it up in this way, he wad set up the tother's birse, and maybe do mair ill nor gude--he's done that twice or thrice about thae mine-warks;ye wad thought Sir Arthur had a pleasure in gaun on wi' them the deeper, the mair he was warned against it by Monkbarns.''

``What say you then,'' said Lovel, ``to letting Miss Wardour know the circumstance?''

``Ou, puir thing, how could she stop her father doing his pleasure?--and, besides, what wad it help? There's a sough in the country about that six hundred pounds, and there's a writer chield in Edinburgh has been driving the spur-rowels o'

the law up to the head into Sir Arthur's sides to gar him pay it, and if he canna, he maun gang to jail or flee the country.

He's like a desperate man, and just catches at this chance as a'

he has left, to escape utter perdition; so what signifies plaguing the puir lassie about what canna be helped? And besides, to say the truth, I wadna like to tell the secret o' this place.It's unco convenient, ye see yoursell, to hae a hiding-hole o' ane's ain; and though I be out o' the line o' needing ane e'en now, and trust in the power o' grace that I'll neer do onything to need ane again, yet naebody kens what temptation ane may be gien ower to--and, to be brief, I downa bide the thought of anybody kennin about the place;--they say, keep a thing seven year, an'

yell aye find a use for't--and maybe I may need the cove, either for mysell, or for some ither body.''

This argument, in which Edie Ochiltree, notwithstanding his scraps of morality and of divinity, seemed to take, perhaps from old habit, a personal interest, could not be handsomely controverted by Lovel, who was at that moment reaping the benefit of the secret of which the old man appeared to be so jealous.