第104章
- The Art of Writing
- Robert Louis Stevenson
- 721字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:21
``Maister Dustandsnivel,'' said the narrator, ``it's an unco while since I heard this business treated anent;--for the lairds of Knockwinnock, neither Sir Arthur, nor his father, nor his grandfather--and I mind a wee bit about them a'--liked to hear it spoken about; nor they dinna like it yet--But nae matter; ye may be sure it was clattered about in the kitchen, like onything else in a great house, though it were forbidden in the ha'--and sae I hae heard the circumstance rehearsed by auld servants in the family; and in thir present days, when things o' that auld-warld sort arena keepit in mind round winter fire-sides as they used to be, I question if there's onybody in the country can tell the tale but mysell--aye out-taken the laird though, for there's a parchment book about it, as I have heard, in the charter-room at Knockwinnock Castle.''
``Well, all dat is vary well--but get you on with your stories, mine goot friend,'' said Dousterswivel.
``Aweel, ye see,'' continued the mendicant, ``this was a job in the auld times o' rugging and riving through the hale country, when it was ilka ane for himsell, and God for us a'--when nae man wanted property if he had strength to take it, or had it langer than he had power to keep it.It was just he ower her, and she ower him, whichever could win upmost, a' through the east country here, and nae doubt through the rest o' Scotland in the self and same manner.
``Sae in these days Sir Richard Wardour came into the land, and that was the first o' the name ever was in this country.
There's been mony o' them sin' syne; and the maist, like him they ca'd Hell-in-Harness, and the rest o' them, are sleeping down in yon ruins.They were a proud dour set o' men, but unco brave, and aye stood up for the weel o' the country, God sain them a'--there's no muckle popery in that wish.They ca'd them the Norman Wardours, though they cam frae the south to this country.So this Sir Richard, that they ca'd Red-hand, drew up wi' the auld Knockwinnock o' that day--for then they were Knockwinnocks of that Ilk--and wad fain marry his only daughter, that was to have the castle and the land.
Laith, laith was the lass--(Sybil Knockwinnock they ca'd her that tauld me the tale)--laith, laith was she to gie into the match, for she had fa'en a wee ower thick wi' a cousin o' her ain that her father had some ill-will to; and sae it was, that after she had been married to Sir Richard jimp four months--for marry him she maun, it's like--ye'll no hinder her gieing them a present o' a bonny knave bairn.Then there was siccan a ca'-thro', as the like was never seen; and she's be burnt, and he's be slain, was the best words o' their mouths.But it was a' sowdered up again some gait, and the bairn was sent awa, and bred up near the Highlands, and grew up to be a fine wanle fallow, like mony ane that comes o' the wrang side o' the blanket;and Sir Richard wi' the Red-hand, he had a fair offspring o'his ain, and a was lound and quiet till his head was laid in the ground.But then down came Malcolm Misticot--(Sir Arthur says it should be _Misbegot,_ but they aye ca'd him Misticot that spoke o't lang syne)--down cam this Malcolm, the love-begot, frae Glen-isla, wi' a string o' lang-legged Highlanders at his heels, that's aye ready for onybody's mischief, and he threeps the castle and lands are his ain as his mother's eldest son, and turns a' the Wardours out to the hill.There was a sort of fighting and blude-spilling about it, for the gentles took different sides; but Malcolm had the uppermost for a lang time, and keepit the Castle of Knockwinnock, and strengthened it, and built that muckle tower that they ca' Misticot's tower to this day.''
``Mine goot friend, old Mr.Edie Ochiltree.'' interrupted the German, ``this is all as one like de long histories of a baron of sixteen quarters in mine countries; but I would as rather hear of de silver and gold.''