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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Sit ye down there," at last said the Cornal, "with my brother the General's leave." And he waved to the high-backed haffit chair Miss Mary had so sparely filled an hour ago. Then he withdrew the stopper of the bottle, poured a tiny drop of the spirits into both tumblers, and drank "The King and his Arms," a sentiment the General joined in with his hand tremulous around the glass.
And you argued with him about that! I would have put a hand on his cravat and throttled him." The Paymaster was abashed, but "Just consider, Colin," he pleaded. "I am not so young as I was, and a bonny-like thing it would be to throttle him on the ground he gave." "Old Mars!" cried the Cornal, with a sneer.
Not of John the Captain, for he is different, with a tongue that goes, but I'm frightened when the General and the Cornal sit and look at me saying nothing because I am a woman." "I do not like people to sit looking at me saying nothing," said Gilian, "because when I sit and look at people without saying anything I am reading them far in. But mostly I would sooner be making up things in my mind."
Gilian leaned upon his other foot and was on the verge of crying at his situation. The day had been far too crowded with strangers and new experience for his comfort; he felt himself cruelly plucked out of his own sufficient company and jarred by contact with a very complex world. With a rude loud sound that shook the toddy ladles in the cupboard the Cornal cleared his throat.
It was the formula of the afternoon; sometimes they never put a lip to the glass, but it was always necessary that the bottle should be in the party. For a space that seemed terribly long to the boy they said no word but looked at him. The eyes of the Cornal seemed to pierce him through; the General in a while seemed to forget his presence, turning upon him a flat, vacant eye.
Gilian hesitated, vaguely fearing to reveal her identity, and Nan shrank back, all her memories of conversation in Maam telling her that here was an enemy. Again the Cornal bent and looked more closely, lifting her chin up that he might see the better. She flashed a glance of defiance in his scarred old parchment face, and he drew his hand back as if he had been stung. "Nan!
"Which was left behind, I think you said at first," said the Cornal, annoyed at some apparent link a missing in the chain of circumstance. "If the boat was left behind as well as the tiller I think you mentioned the tiller how did they get ashore in it? Did you see them get ashore?"
"Listen to me," said the Cornal, "and here I speak, I think, for my brother the General, who has too much to be thinking about to be troubling with these little affairs. Listen to me. I fought in Corunna, in Salamanca, Vittoria and Waterloo, and at Waterloo I led the Royals up against the yetts of hell. Did I not, Dugald?"
I wish it was, but books of any kind come now, Cornal, you can hardly expect me to condemn them in the hands of youth," He fondled the little Horace in his pocket as a man in company may squeeze his wife's hand. "They made my bread and butter, did the books, for fifty years, and Gilian will get no harm there.
"I was a thought later than I intended," said the Paymaster quickly, putting his cane softly into a corner. "I had a little encounter with that fellow Turner and it put by the time." "What Jamie?" "No; Charlie." "Man! I wonder at you, John," said the Cornal with a contempt in his utterance and a tightening of the corner of his lips. "I wonder at you changing words with him.
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