Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume IX Part 8

"Aweel, it may be sae, sir," replied the imperturbable stranger; "but I ken o' nae country whar a calm sough's no guid counsel."

"Ha! ha! ha! right, friend, right," roared mine jolly host of the Drouthsloken, with open mouth and noisy laugh. "It is not goot to say too moosh anywhere; no more in the Hague as any oder place. But here is all honourable gentlemen," he added, casting a furtive glance of good-humoured meaning at the young man who had first addressed the Scotch visiter, "who will not make bad use of what you shall say."

"Ou, I hae nae doot o' that at a', sir," replied the latter; "but, to be plain wi' ye, it's no my intention to say onything that onybody can mak ony use o', either guid, bad, or indifferent." And, having said this, the speaker showed a very palpable desire to put an end to the conference, which he evidently began to think was studiously directed by the other party towards an elucidation of his purposes in visiting the Hague. In this disposition, however, he was by no means joined by the party in whose presence he was, particularly by the young man by whom he had been first addressed, who evinced a gratification in the peculiar humour of the stranger, and an interest in him altogether that would not permit of his being shaken off. So far indeed, was he from permitting this, that he insisted on the latter's joining him in a bottle of wine, which he instantly ordered mine jolly host of the Drouthsloken to produce.

On the return of the latter, bearing a bottle of wine in one hand and a screw in the other--

"Will your--your----" he said, but was here interrupted by a wink from the person he addressed, which had the evident effect of making him subst.i.tute a different word for that which he had intended to use, and he added "your honour." "Will your honour not go up-stairs to your own favourite apartment, de leetle blue parlour?"

"No, no, Mynheer Tromp," replied the young cavalier, "we'll just stay where we are. The night is cold, and I have always thought your kitchen the most comfortable and cheerful apartment in your house. So place us a table here, close by the fire, if you please."

Mynheer Vander Tromp bowed a humble a.s.sent; and, in an instant after, a small round table of walnut-tree, s.h.i.+ning like a mirror, was placed in the desired situation. Bottles and gla.s.ses covered it in a twinkling, and in a twinkling also was the party seated around it, including our friend of the bonnet and plaid. This worthy person at first s.h.i.+ed the good fellows.h.i.+p thus thrust upon him; but, gradually warming with the wine he drank--for bottle succeeded bottle with marvellous celerity--he became by degrees less and less reserved in his manner, until at length his natural caution giving way altogether before the increasing pressure of the vinous influence, he became as communicative as he had before been the reverse.

Availing himself of the altered disposition of the stranger, the young cavalier, whom we have represented as having more especially attached himself to the former, again endeavoured to extract from him the purpose of his visit to the Hague; and his attempt was now successful.

"Aweel, I'll just tell ye Gude's truth, gentlemen," he said, in answer to a question, or rather hint, on the subject of explanation which had just been addressed to him by his young friend; and for the reply to which all waited--"I'll just tell ye Gude's truth, as I think ye're a'

honourable men, and wadna willingly bring a man into trouble, wha has gien ye nae cause o' offence. Ye see, then freends, I hae just arrived frae Scotland, and hae come here to see our unfortunate young king, Charles the Second that should be, whase unhappy story ye dootless a'

ken. I hae been ruined oot o' hoose and ha' for the part I took in his puir faither's behalf, and hae been obliged to flee my ain country, besides, for the same reason; and hae noo come here, to see if His Majesty, G.o.d bless him, could afford me ony sort o' protection till the storm that's noo tearin a' up by the roots in Scotland blaws by; and that's just the hail affair, gentlemen."

Long ere the stranger had concluded this account of the purpose of his visit to the Hague, a look of intelligence, which originated with his young friend, had pa.s.sed amongst his auditors, and, in the case of the former, was a.s.sociated with a peculiar expression of sympathy. Both, however, the look alluded to, and the latter symptom of a yet deeper feeling, was un.o.bserved by the person whose communication had given rise to them. Becoming now querist in turn, he asked, "if ony o' the gentlemen could tell him whar the king leeved, and if they could put him on a way o' gettin introduced to him?"

"Thou couldst not have lighted more luckily for that, my friend," said the young man to whom we have already so often alluded, "than thou hast done in coming amongst us; for it happens that I hold a confidential place near the person of Charles, and will have much pleasure in exerting my influence in procuring you the introduction you desire."

"Mony thanks to ye, freend," replied the martyr to royalty--"mony thanks to ye, if ye mean, by Charles, His Majesty the King o' England--G.o.d bless him!"

"I certainly do, my friend. I mean him and no other."

"Weel, sir--excuse my freedom--if ye do, I think ye micht ca' him sae.

Wha can dispute his t.i.tle, although his back be at the wa'?"

"Oh! no one--no one, my good friend, I believe--that is, lawfully,"

replied the young cavalier, laughingly; "but, seeing his present circ.u.mstances--a wandering exile in a foreign land, crownless and coinless--we, somehow or other, cannot get our tongues about those sounding t.i.tles that are his birthright. We prefer calling him simply Charles, or English Charles; and I rather think he prefers it himself.

His t.i.tles he thinks best left in abeyance in the meantime."

"Aweel, if it be his ain pleasure, I hae nae mair to say. Perhaps it's as prudent and becomin; for, as ye say, sir, a king that has neither a croon on his head nor in his pouch is in but a sair condition for his dignity. That maun be allowed."

There was not much in this remark itself to excite merriment; but there was certainly something in the nave manner in which it was delivered that was calculated to produce this effect; and it did. A shout of laughter, in which the speaker's young friend was the loudest and heartiest performer, acknowledged the peculiarity to which we have alluded. On the laugh subsiding, the latter again addressed the former, saying--

"But, friend, you have not yet told us by what name we should address you."

"As to that," replied the stranger, smilingly, "I believe the maist appropriate name or t.i.tle ye could gie me at the present moment wad be that o' the Launless Laird. But it wasna aye sae. I had a bit guid property in the Loudans, ca'ed Lucky's How, every clod o't my ain, wi' a yearly rental o' forty merks, guid siller, forby the thirlage o' the Mill o' Meldrum, that was worth a guid twa or three merks mair. But a's gane awa like a handfu o' ingan peelins on a windy day; that cursed battle o' Worcester settled a', and left me withoot a groat, and withoot as much grund as wad mak the hillock o' a moudiwart. But it's a' gane in a guid cause; I dinna begrudge't; and, besides, things 'll maybe come roond again; and, if they dinna, there's nae help for't."

"So you were at the battle of Worcester, laird?" said the speaker's young friend.

"Feth! that I was, sir; and there," he added, holding out his right hand, which was minus the forefinger and thumb--"there's a certificate o' the truth o' my statement, gien under the hand o' ane o' Crum'll's praying dragoons. It was an ugly lick; but there were a hantle o' uglier anes than it gaun whar it was gotten. It was a coorse business athegither."

"It was no less, my good friend," said the young cavalier. "I was there, too."

"Was ye, feth?" replied the laird. "Then, if ye was, sir, ye saw a bonny stramash--mair than ye'll forget in a hurry, I daursay. It was an awfu scene yon, when the dragoons cam in upon us in the streets o' Worcester.

'Od! they sliced and slapped aboot them as if they had gotten into a plantation o' lang kale, and no amang Christian men like themsels."

"It was indeed a sad business," replied the young man, with a melancholy smile. "Saw ye the king on that day?"

"I did," replied the laird.

"Wouldst know him again?"

"No; I canna think I wad. I just got a glisk o' him, for the first and last time, in the middle o' the dirdum at Worcester. When I saw him, the puir lad was fechtin like a Turk; but it was a' to nae purpose. He was obleeged to rin for't at last, and to perk himsel up in a tree, like a hoolet, to keep oot o' the way o' Crum'll's sodgers. If they had gotten the puir lad--as it was a G.o.d's mercy they didna--they wad hae taen aff his head, nae doot, as they did his unfortunate faither's; and then, as, indeed, it's said they proposed to do, made a b.u.t.tonmaker o' his sister, and maybe a Spitalfields weaver o' his brither, the Duke o' Gloucester."

"I _have_ heard," replied the young cavalier, with a contemptuous smile, while a blush of deep feeling, it might be indignation, overspread his intelligent countenance--"I have heard that some such idea was actually entertained by the Parliament as that thou hast alluded to."

"There's nae doot that such a report was current, sir; but whether true or no, I winna tak upon me to say. They may hae been belied in't."

"I hope they may," replied the young cavalier, musingly. Then, suddenly recovering himself, and a.s.suming his usual cheerfulness of manner--"And what are the king's friends about in Scotland?" he said, slapping the laird good-humouredly on the knee.

"Dooms little, sir," replied the laird. "They daurna cheep. Monk has gotten his heel fairly on their necks; so that deil a ane o' them can wag either tongue or finger. There's a wheen o' them taen to the hills wi' Glencairn and Balcarras; but what can they do? Naething. It's a puir thing to be in that way, sir. I had a trial o' that mysel. Tak my word for't, that sleepin in a moss hag, or in the lee o' a whin-bush, and leevin upon lavrocks, or raw turnips and bog-water, is nae better than it's ca'ed."

"Well, well, laird, I hope times will mend with our poor friends in Scotland," replied the young cavalier, to whom this picture of the sufferings of the royalists, notwithstanding the strong tincture it exhibited of the speaker's natural humour, seemed to give much pain. "I hope times will mend with them yet, and that feasting and feather-beds will make them forget the raw turnips and whin-bushes ye speak of. In the meantime, my good friend, push round the bottle, and let us talk of other matters; for these make me sad."

Nothing loth, the Laird of Lucky's How filled up a br.i.m.m.i.n.g b.u.mper, and, drinking "better times," sent it down after some two or three dozen that had preceded it.

The party were now getting into high glee. The laugh, the joke, and the bottle went merrily round, and the merriest, and apparently the most jovial of the company, was the young gentleman whom we have hitherto represented as expressly attaching himself to the laird, and whose name, as the latter learned from himself, was Jones. This roysterer was the life and soul of the company, when roystering became the order of the evening; but his mirth was tempered with a gentleness of demeanour, and an air of polished hilarity, if such a phrase may be permitted, as inspired the idea of the presence of a perfect gentleman. His whole manner, in short, was exceedingly captivating. His fancy was ready and playful; his wit brilliant and appropriate; and the affability and winning character of his smile irresistible. Altogether, he was a most delightful companion, and admirably calculated to figure in such circ.u.mstances as those in which he was now placed. How he might acquit himself in a scene of a more grave and serious character, it would not perhaps have been easy to guess.

The mirth of the party in the kitchen of the Drouthsloken had just attained its height, when a circ.u.mstance occurred which did not affect its humour, but somewhat changed its character. This was the entrance of two of the landlord's daughters. Dressed in the neat and simple, although somewhat peculiar, costume of their country, with their hair tightly braided up, and bound with a broad silver frontlet, so as to exhibit in bold relief the contour of their full and fair countenances, two prettier girls than Juliana and Joan Vander Tromp were not within the walls of the Hague.

As they entered the kitchen, to which they had come merely, or, perhaps, we should have said ostensibly, to look after some household affairs, the girls curtsied slightly but gracefully to the company by which it was occupied, and, smiling pleasantly and good-naturedly the while, pa.s.sed on to the upper end of the apartment, and began to occupy themselves in some little domestic duties. They had not, however, been permitted to enter unnoticed. On their appearance, the whole party got up from their seats, and acknowledged their presence by a gallant greeting; and in this courtesy, Mr Jones again shone pre-eminent by the greater grace and deeper devotion he displayed in his chivalrous welcome to the fair visitors.

It might have been observed, too, that to him, in turn, were the curtsies and the looks also of the young ladies most especially directed; but in this case these were a.s.sociated with a degree of respect for which it would not have been easy to account.

"What think ye of our fair Netherlanders, laird?" said Mr Jones to the latter, in a half whisper, when the ladies' attention was, or seemed to be, engrossed by their occupation. "Will they not match your Scotch la.s.ses, think you?"

"That's a pair o' braw queans, I maun allow," replied the laird. "Just twa as bonny bits o' la.s.socks as ane wad wish to see; but I think they want the complexion--they haena the blume o' our kilted heather trampers. They want the caller red that the norland breeze puts on the cheeks o' our Scottish gilpies. That's my humble opinion, sir. But they're twa bonny la.s.socks, for a' that. Nae doot o't."

"On the score of complexion I grant ye, laird, they are, perhaps, deficient a little, but I think this amply compensated by the intellectual expression, the fine contour, and the softer and more intense l.u.s.tre of the eye. I have seen your Scottish maidens, laird, and admired them in my time."

"Feth, sir, I maun say your taste wad hae been very questionable if ye hadna," interposed the laird. "When and whar saw ye them, if ye please, sir? What pairt o' Scotland was ye in?" he added.

The question appeared to place Jones in a difficulty for a moment; but he at length answered--

"Why, laird, I have been in many parts of Scotland in my day. I was with the king at Scone."

"Was that at the time o' his coronation?" inquired the laird.

"It was," said Jones.

"And it wad be there, like, and aboot the quarter o' Perth, that ye saw our bonny Scotch la.s.ses, I warrant," said the laird, laughingly. "Ay, if a' tales be true, the king admired them when he saw them, as muckle as ye could do, sir," continued the laird.

"Why, they do report something of that kind," replied Jones, with some confusion of manner, and slightly colouring as he spoke--indications of a feeling, whatever it was, which seemed highly edifying to his companions, who marked it with repeated bursts of laughter; "they do report something of the kind," said Jones; "but we mustn't credit all we hear, laird."