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Updated: May 28, 2025
"And I woul drink it on my knee," said Craigengelt, "if I thought the girl had the spirit to jilt that d d son of a Spaniard." "I am to request you will not use the word 'jilt' and Miss Ashton's name together," said Bucklaw, gravely. "Jilt, did I say?
"No more you should, if you are a lad of mettle," said Craigengelt, the matter now taking a turn in which he could sympathise; "and if you carry this wench from him, it will break his heart." "That it will not," said Bucklaw; "his heart is all steeled over with reason and philosophy, things that you, Craigie, know nothing about more than myself, God help me.
Recovering him, however, with the bridle, he pushed for the gate, and rode sharply back again in the direction of the village. As Ravenswood turned round to leave the courtyard after this dialogue, he found that the Lord Keeper had descended from the hall, and witnessed, though at the distance prescribed by politeness, his interview with Craigengelt.
However," added Craigengelt, pocketing the money, "if you will have me so far indebted to you, I must be conforming." "Well, horse and away!" said the patron, "so soon as you have got your riding livery in trim. You may ride the black crop-ear; and, hark ye, I'll make you a present of him to boot." "I drink to the good luck of my mission," answered the ambassador, "in a half-pint bumper."
Egad, we'll make a night on't!" And soon they spied the merry-men green, And eke the coach and four. Duke upon Duke. CRAIGENGELT set forth on his mission so soon as his equipage was complete, prosecuted his journey with all diligence, and accomplished his commission with all the dexterity for which bucklaw had given him credit. As he arrived with credentials from Mr.
It grows late, and a night-cowl of good claret is worth all the considering-caps in Europe." It was the copy of our conference. In bed she slept not, for my urging it; At board she fed not, for my urging it; Alone, it was the subject of my theme; In company I often glanced at it. Comedy of Errors. THE next morning saw Bucklaw and his faithful Achates, Craigengelt, at Ravenswood Castle.
As he descended the outward stair which led from the terrace, he was a second time interrupted by Craigengelt, who, on the part of his principal, the Laird of Bucklaw, expressed a hope that Ravenswood would not leave Scotland within ten days at least, as he had both former and recent civilities for which to express his gratitude.
"One man is enough to right his own wrong," said the taller and older personage; "we venture our lives for him in coming thus far on such an errand." "You are but a craven after all, Craigengelt," answered the younger, "and that's what many folk have thought you before now."
"Hark ye, Craigengelt; as you are going into the society of women of rank," said Bucklaw, "I'll thank you to forget your strange blackguard oaths and 'damme's. I'll write to them, though, that you are a blunt, untaught fellow." "Ay, ay," replied Craigengelt "a plain, blunt, honest, downright soldier."
"Satisfaction! and equal arms!" repeated Ravenswood, who, the reader will recollect, had no reason to suppose he had given the slightest offence to his late intimate; "upon my word, Captain Craigengelt, either you have invented the most improbable falsehood that ever came into the mind of such a person, or your morning draught has been somewhat of the strongest.
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