Tales from Blackwood - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Oh, I'm sure you are quite welcome to Jane Somers," said Miss Alice; "my brother will give his consent directly--won't you, Thomas?"
"Say the word, and I give you the hand of friends.h.i.+p."
"What word?" asked the sorely puzzled Ben-na-Groich; "I will say whatever is needful."
"Does the maiden herself consent?--Bring hither the fair one of the hill."
Jane Somers was brought forward by her guard.
"Now, Jane," began the Chieftain, "this here gentleman, Mr Fash-na-Cairn, is anxious to marry some one of my family--are you disposed to save me from murder and robbery by giving him your hand?"
"To save you, my dear uncle, from anything unpleasant, there is no sacrifice I would not make."
"There's a dear, good girl," cried the Chieftain, delighted. "Take her; you are very welcome; and when I get home, which will be in three days from this time, I will send you some marriage presents. If you have any fancy for this estate, you shall have it a bargain; in the mean time let the rest of us get into the carriage, and be off as fast as we can. Come, Copus, get up, you lazy hound--we must be off."
"Off or not off, sir, I doesn't budge a foot. I stays with my young missus."
"Very well, only let us out of the house." While preparations were making for a rapid retreat, one of the brigands went up to Jane Somers and whispered, "my carriage is waiting on the bridge. Lady Teysham, and the other ladies at my shooting-box, expect us every moment; so be under no alarm."
Jane bowed her head and yielded to her destiny, and since that time has been as happy a specimen of the married life as is often to be met with. Ben-na-Groich, on finding out the hoax, was too much afraid of the ridicule of his friends to make it public; and to this hour, Aunt Alice tells the most wondrous tales of the lawlessness of the Highlands, and the blood-thirstiness and revenge characteristic of a Scottish Chieftain. "Only to think of people cheris.h.i.+ng a resentment for nearly a thousand years, and only satisfying it at last by marriage or murder. Oh, Mrs Hobbins, never believe what people says when they talk to you about the foodle system--the starvation system would be a much better name for it, for the whole country is made of nothing but heath, and the gentlemen's clothes is no covering from the cold; and besides all that, they are indelicate to a degree!"----
