Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 17, 2025
'I didna fess ye here to speyk aboot mysel'. He's efter mair mischeef, and gin onything cud be dune to haud him frae 't 'Wha's efter mischeef, Jessie? interrupted Robert. 'Lord Rothie. He's gaein' aff the nicht in Skipper Hornbeck's boat to Antwerp, I think they ca' 't, an' a bonnie young leddy wi' 'im. They war to sail wi' the first o' the munelicht.
Happily Lord Rothie was at some little distance talking to a priest about one of Rubens's pictures. I slipped unseen behind the nearest pillar, and then flew from the church. How I got to the hotel I do not know, but I did reach it. 'Lady Janet, was all I could say. The waiter knew the name, and led me to her room. I threw myself on my knees, and begged her to save me.
Her beauty was greatly gone, and Lord Rothie did not pay her much attention. Robert had as yet made no attempt to communicate with her, for there was scarcely a chance of her concealing a letter from the baron.
George Macdonald, in his 'Robert Falconer, whispers, in a sort of stage aside, his wish that it were possible to be both decent and honest in the exposition of the character of the Baron of Rothie, who is a seducer by profession.
Ye needna du as they du. Jock Mitchell was airin' Reid Rorie an' Black Geordie. An' says Jock, "Brawly. Wha the deevil are ye?" An' says I, "Nae mair o' a deevil nor yersel', Jock Mitchell, or Alexander, Baron Rothie, either though maybe that's no little o' ane." "Preserve me!" cried Jock, "it's Shargar."
'I thank you, gentleman, he said, with a mixture of irony and contempt, 'for the interest you take in my private history. I should have thought it had been as little to the taste as it is to the honour of some of you to listen to such a farrago of lies. 'Lees! my lord, said MacGregor, starting to his feet. Mr. Cocker looked dismayed, and Mr. Lord Rothie turned in a rage.
Till 'im I ran, an' he was an auld man, an' maist at the last gasp wi' the weicht o' 't, an' gae me 't to carry. An' wha duv ye think gae me a shillin' the verra first nicht? Wha but my brither Sandy? 'Lord Rothie? 'Ay, faith. I kent him weel eneuch, but little he kent me. There he was upo' Black Geordie. He's turnin' auld noo. 'Yer brither? 'Na.
She assured me no one should touch me. I gasped 'Lord Rothie, and fainted. When I came to myself but I need not tell you all the particulars. Lady Janet did take care of me. Till last night I never saw Lord Rothie again. I did not acknowledge him, but he persisted in talking to me, behave as I would, and I saw well enough that he knew me. Falconer took her hand and kissed it.
As sure 's deith he's efter her. Whaur cud he hae heard tell o' her? Lord Rothie came, a moment after, sauntering into the bar-parlour, where Lizzie, the third Miss Napier, a red-haired, round-eyed, white-toothed woman of forty, was making entries in a book. 'She's a bonnie lassie that, that came in the coach to-night, they say, Miss Lizzie. 'As ugly 's sin, my lord, answered Lizzie.
'I beg yer lordship's pardon. Caumill! Yer lordship never said ye wanted yer lordship's horse ta'en. I thocht ye micht be gaein' on to The Bothie. Tak' Black Geordie here, Caumill. Come in to the parlour, my lord. 'How d'ye do, Miss Naper? said Lord Rothie, as he entered the room.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking