The Three Perils of Man: War, Women, and Witchcraft (Vol.1-3). James Hogg

said Charlie, "Gude faith, ye ken that's nonsense. He can as easily hang ye, or do ought else w' ye, as I can wipe my beard. An' as for the thing that the Douglas darena do, gude faith, ye ken, I never saw it yet. But I'm sure I wish ye may be safe, for it wad do little good to me to see your bit pease-weep neck rackit."

      "It was most unfair, as well as most ungenerous in your prince to detain me," said she, "as my business required urgency. I had regular signed warrandice, and went on the kindest intent; besides, I have a great aversion to be put into the hands of Douglas. How many cows and ewes would you take to set me at liberty?"

      "Whisht, whisht, Sir!" said Charlie; "Gudesake haud your tongue! That's kittle ground. Never speak o' sic a thing. But how many could ye afford to gie, an I were to set you at liberty?"

      "In the first place, I will give you five hundred head of good English nolt," said Lady Jane.

      "Eh? What?" said Charlie, holding his horse still, and turning his ear close round to the lady's face, that he might hear with perfect distinctness the extraordinary proffer. It was repeated. Charlie was almost electrified with astonishment. "Five hunder head o' nout!" exclaimed he: "But d'ye mean their heads by theirsels?—cuttit aff, like?"

      "No, no; five hundred good live cattle."

      "Mercy on us! Gude faith, they wad stock a' Yardbire—an' Raeburn," added he, after a pause, putting his horse again slowly in motion; "an' Watkerrick into the bargain," added he, with a full drawn sigh, putting the spurs to his beast, that he might go quicker to carry him away from the danger. "For troth, d' ye ken, my lord, we're no that scarce o' grund in Scotland; we can get plenty o' that for little thing, gin we could get ought to lay on't. But it's hard to get beasts, an' kittle to keep them i' our country. Five hunder head o' black cattle! Hech! an Charlie Scott had a' thae, how mony braw lads could he tak at his back o'er Craikcorse to join his master the warden! But come, come, it canna be. War somebody a Scots lord, as he's an English ane, an i' the same danger, I wad risk muckle to set him free. But come, Corby, my fine naig, ye hae carried me into mony a scrape, ye maun carry me out o' this ane, or, gude faith, your master's gane. Ha, lad, ye never had sic a back-fu' i' your life! Ye hae five hunder head o' black cattle on't, ye dog, an' ye're carrying them a' away frae your master an' Yardbire wi' as little ceremony as he took you frae Squire Weir o' Cockermouth. Ah, Corby, ye're gayan like your master, ye hae a lang free kind o' conscience, ye tike!"

      "But, my dear Sir," said Lady Jane, "you have not heard the half of my proffer. You seem to be a generous, sensible, and good natured gentleman."

      "Do I?" said Charlie," Thanks t' ye, my lord."

      "Now," continued she, "if you will either set me and my page safely down on English ground, or within the ports of Edinborough, I'll add five thousand sheep to the proffer I have already made you."

      "Are ye no joking?" said Charlie, again stopping his horse.

      "On my honour I am not," was the answer.

      "They'll stock a' Blake-Esk-head an' the Garald-Grains," said Charlie: "Hae ye a free passport to the Scottish court?"

      "Yes, I have, and signed with the warden's name."

      "Na, na, haud your tongue there; my master has nae name," said Charlie: "He has a good speaking name, an' ane he disna think shame o', but nae name for black an' white."

      "I'll show you it," said Lady Jane.

      "Na, ye needna fash," said Charlie; "I fear it wad be unmannerly in me to doubt a lord's word."

      "How soon could you carry us to Edinborough?" inquired Lady Jane, anxious to keep muckle Charlie in the humour of taking her any where save into the hands of Douglas.

      "That's rather a question to speer at Corby than me," said Charlie; "but I think if we miss drowning i' Tweed, an' breaking our necks o'er the Red-brae, an' sinking out o' sight i' Soutra-flow, that I could tak in hand to hae ye in Edinborough afore twal o'clock at night.—Bad things for you, Corby."

      "Never say another word about it then," said Lady Jane; "the rest are quite gone before us, and out of sight. Turn to the left, and ride for Edinborough. Think of the five hundred cows and five thousand sheep."

      "Oh, that last beats a'!" said Charlie. "Five thousand sheep! how mony is that? Five score's a hunder—I'm sure o' that. Every hunder's five score; then—and how mony hunder maks a thousand?"—

      "Ten," said the page, who was forced to laugh at Charlie's arithmetic.

      "Ten?" repeated Charlie. "Then ten times five hunder that maks but ae thousand; an' other ten times five hunder—D—n me if I ken how mony is o' them ava. What does it signify for a man to hae mair gear than he can count? I fancy we had better jogg on the gate we're gaun, Corby."

      "I am sure, friend, ye never had such a chance of being rich," said Lady Jane, "and may never, in all likelihood, have such a chance again."

      "That is a' true ye're saying, my lord, an' a sair heart it has gi'en me," said Charlie; "but your offer's ower muckle, an' that maks me dread there's something at the bottom o't that I dinna comprehend. Gude faith, an the warden war to suffer danger or disgrace for my greed o' siller, it wad be a bonny story! Corby, straight on, ye dog: ding the brains out o' the gutters, clear for the camp, ye hellicat of an English hound. What are ye snoring an' cocking your lugs at? Od an ye get company like yoursel, ye carena what mischief ye carry your master into. Get on, I say, an' dinna gie me time to hear another word or think about this business again."

      The young lady began here to lose heart, seeing that Charlie had plucked up a determination. But her companion attacked him in her turn with all the flattery and fair promises she could think of, till Charlie found his heart again beginning to waver and calculate; so that he had no other shift but to croon a border war-song, that he might not hear this dangerous conversation. Still the page persevered, till Charlie, losing all patience, cried out as loud and as bitterly as he could, "Haud your tongue, ye slee-gabbit limb o' the auld ane. D—n ye, d'ye think a man's conscience is to be hadden abreed like the mou' of a sack, an' crammed fu' o' beef an' mutton whether he will or no? Corby, another nicker an' another snore, lad, an' we'll soon see you aff at the gallop."

      Thus ended the trying colloquy between muckle Charlie Scott o' Yardbire and his two prisoners; the rest of his conversation was to Corby, whom he forthwith pushed on by spur and flattery to the camp.

      When the truth came to be discovered, many puzzled themselves endeavouring to guess what Charlie would actually have done had he known by the way what a treasure he had in his arms—the greatest beauty, and the greatest heiress in England;—for Charlie was as notable for kindness and generosity as he was for bodily strength; and, besides, he was poor, as he frankly acknowledged; but then he only wished for riches to be able to keep more men for the service of his chief. Some thought he would have turned his horse round without further ceremony, and carried her straight to Yardbire, on purpose to keep her there for a wife; others thought he would have risked his neck, honour, and every thing, and restored her again to her friends. But it was impossible for any of them to guess what he would have done, as it was proved afterwards that Charlie could not guess himself. When the truth came to be divulged, and was first told to him, his mouth, besides becoming amazingly extended in its dimensions, actually grew four-square with astonishment; and when asked what he would have done had he known, he smacked his lips, and wiped them with the back of his hand as if his teeth had been watering—and, laughing to himself with a chuckling sound, like a moor-cock, he turned about his back to conceal his looks, and only answered with these emphatic words: "Gude faith, it was as weel I didna ken."

      CHAPTER VI.

       Table of Contents

      Some write of preclair conquerouris,

       And some of vallyeant emperouris,

       And some of nobill mychtie kingis,

       That royally did reull the ringis;