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Updated: May 14, 2025
Good-e'en to you, gentlemen, thought I, if that is to be the gate of it. If you have any further word with me, you maun come as far as Carriefraw-gauns.
Indeed, little Hortense seemed altogether such a great lady that I held back, though she was looking straight towards me. "Give you good-e'en, Ramsay," salutes M. Picot, a small, thin man with pointed beard, eyebrows of a fierce curlicue, and an expression under half-shut lids like cat's eyes in the dark. "Give you good-e'en! Can you guess who this is?" As if any one could forget Hortense!
"Good-e'en t'ye, dame," said the stout hunter, doffing his cap, and resting his rifle in a corner, while Dick rose and placed a chair for him. "The same to you, Master Blunt," answered the widow; "you've jist comed in good time for a cut o' venison." "Thanks, mistress, I s'pose we're beholden to the silver rifle for that." "To the hand that aimed it, rather," suggested the widow.
Country-folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e'en.
Nick came straight to where they stood, and bowing, he and Cicely together, doffed his cap, and said in his most London tone, "We bid ye all good-e'en, good folk." His courtly speech and manner, as well as his clothes and Cicely's jaunty gown, no little daunted the simple country folk.
A thin, sleety scuff of passing snow-cloud beat in my face. A tall man wrapped in a cloak edged suspiciously nearer as if to take stock of me, but my haste, and perhaps a certain wildness in the disorder of my dress and hat made him think better of it that is, if indeed he ever thought ill of it and with a muttered "Good-e'en to ye," he passed upon his way. I could see it now.
Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good-e'en.
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