Anderson, the domestic who had before spoken now respectfully
addressed his master.—“I think, my
lord,” he said, “that, under your lordship’s
favour, I could say something to remove Captain Dalgetty’s
second objection also. He asks us where we are
to collect our pay; now, in my poor mind, the resources
are as open to us as to the Covenanters. They
tax the country according to their pleasure, and dilapidate
the estates of the King’s friends; now, were
we once in the Lowlands, with our Highlanders and
our Irish at our backs, and our swords in our hands,
we can find many a fat traitor, whose ill-gotten wealth
shall fill our military chest and satisfy our soldiery.
Besides, confiscations will fall in thick; and, in
giving donations of forfeited lands to every adventurous
cavalier who joins his standard, the King will at once
reward his friends and punish his enemies. In
short, he that joins these Roundhead dogs may get
some miserable pittance of pay—he that joins
our standard has a chance to be knight, lord, or earl,
if luck serve him.”
“Have you ever served, my good friend?”
said the Captain to the spokesman.
“A little, sir, in these our domestic quarrels,”
answered the man, modestly.
“But never in Germany or the Low Countries?”
said Dalgetty.
“I never had the honour,” answered Anderson.
“I profess,” said Dalgetty, addressing
Lord Menteith, “your lordship’s servant
has a sensible, natural, pretty idea of military matters;
somewhat irregular, though, and smells a little too
much of selling the bear’s skin before he has
hunted him.—I will take the matter, however,
into my consideration.”
“Do so, Captain,” said Lord Menteith;
“you will have the night to think of it, for
we are now near the house, where I hope to ensure you
a hospitable reception.”
“And that is what will be very welcome,”
said the Captain, “for I have tasted no food
since daybreak but a farl of oatcake, which I divided
with my horse. So I have been fain to draw my
sword-belt three bores tighter for very extenuation,
lest hunger and heavy iron should make the gird slip.”
CHAPTER IV.
Once on a time, no matter
when,
Some Glunimies met in
a glen;
As deft and tight as
ever wore
A durk, a targe, and
a claymore,
Short hose, and belted
plaid or trews,
In Uist, Lochaber, Skye,
or Lewes,
Or cover’d hard
head with his bonnet;
Had you but known them,
you would own it.—MESTON.
A hill was now before the travellers, covered with
an ancient forest of Scottish firs, the topmost of
which, flinging their scathed branches across the
western horizon, gleamed ruddy in the setting sun.
In the centre of this wood rose the towers, or rather
the chimneys, of the house, or castle, as it was called,
destined for the end of their journey.
As usual at that period, one or two high-ridged narrow
buildings, intersecting and crossing each other, formed
the corpsde LOGIS. A protecting bartizan
or two, with the addition of small turrets at the
angles, much resembling pepper-boxes, had procured
for Darnlinvarach the dignified appellation of a castle.
It was surrounded by a low court-yard wall, within
which were the usual offices.
