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You are conveying to her the idea that, at one time, I was quite given up to the pursuit of pleasure, and she is shocked, and no wonder. Now, my own impression is, that I was never very fond of going into society, as you call it. I certainly never met you more than two or three times at large parties, I mean." Mr Proudfute bowed low.
"Surely," said Bailie Craigdallie, "it would be to no purpose to stir at court without Sir Patrick Charteris's countenance: the ready answer would be, 'Go to your provost, you borrel loons. So, neighbours and townsmen, if you will stand by my side, I and our pottingar Dwining will repair presently to Kinfauns, with Sim Glover, the jolly smith, and gallant Oliver Proudfute, for witnesses to the onslaught, and speak with Sir Patrick Charteris, in name of the fair town."
"The truth is, however," persevered Master Oliver, "there I was, and I will give Master Bailie my account of the matter; for the smith and I were first up to the fray." "Enough at present," said the bailie, waving to Master Proudfute an injunction of silence. "The precognition of Simon Glover and Henry Gow would bear out a matter less worthy of belief.
But, ere he guessed where he was going, the leech was hurried into the house of the late Oliver Proudfute, from which he heard the chant of the women as they swathed and dressed the corpse of the umquhile bonnet maker for the ceremony of next morning, of which chant the following verses may be received as a modern imitation: Viewless essence, thin and bare, Well nigh melted into air, Still with fondness hovering near The earthly form thou once didst wear,
Every one knew what Oliver Proudfute was, how wide he would speak, and how little he would do. He has Henry Smith's buff coat, target, and head piece. All the town know them as well as I do: there is no doubt on't. He had the trick, as you know, of trying to imitate the smith in most things.
Who can compare with her?" said Graeme. "But she must not be spoiled. She is best at home." "Proudfute tells me this is to be a reception in honour of your friend Ruthven, and Miss Elphinstone," said Arthur. "It seems the wedding is to come off soon. Proudfute is a relation of theirs, you know."
Mr Proudfute divided his attention between them and the piano, to which Rose and Fanny had betaken themselves, till at the suggestion of Mrs Grove, Arthur challenged him to a game of chess, which lasted all the evening.
He had arrived at the fatal spot where the unlucky bonnet maker's body was lying, just in time to discover, to his great relief, that when it was turned with the face upwards by Bailie Craigdallie's orders, the features of the poor braggart Proudfute were recognised, when the crowd expected to behold those of their favorite champion, Henry Smith.
There was a crowd, as usual, on the boat, and Graeme made haste to get a seat with Mrs Snow, in a quiet corner out of the way. "Look, Graeme," said Rose. "There is Mr Proudfute, and there are the Roxburys, and ever so many more people. And there is Mr Ruthven. I wonder if they are going away to-day." "I don't know. Don't let us get into the crowd," said Graeme, rather hurriedly.
"I will do your message, sir," replied Oliver Proudfute, meekly enough; for he began to be very desirous to get free of the embassy which he had so rashly undertaken, and was in the act of turning his horse's head, when the Annandale man added: "And take you this to boot, to keep you in mind that you met the Devil's Dick, and to teach you another time to beware how you spoil the sport of any one who wears the flying spur on his shoulder."
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