第143章
- The Art of Writing
- Robert Louis Stevenson
- 937字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:21
``better that she were justly convicted of deceit, should that be found necessary, than that others should be unjustly accused of crimes so much more dreadful.''
``Then, my lord,'' said Oldbuck, ``our first business must be to put the information of the old woman, Elspeth, into a regular and authenticated form.''
``That,'' said Lord Glenallan, ``will be at present, I fear, impossible.She is exhausted herself, and surrounded by her distressed family.To-morrow, perhaps, when she is alone--and yet I doubt, from her imperfect sense of right and wrong, whether she would speak out in any one's presence but my own.
I am too sorely fatigued.''
``Then, my lord,'' said the Antiquary, whom the interest of the moment elevated above points of expense and convenience, which had generally more than enough of weight with him, ``I would propose to your lordship, instead of returning, fatigued as you are, so far as to Glenallan House, or taking the more uncomfortable alternative of going to a bad inn at Fairport, to alarm all the busybodies of the town--I would propose, I say, that you should be my guest at Monkbarns for this night.By to-morrow these poor people will have renewed their out-of-doors vocation--for sorrow with them affords no respite from labour, --and we will visit the old woman Elspeth alone, and take down her examination.''
After a formal apology for the encroachment, Lord Glenallan agreed to go with him, and underwent with patience in their return home the whole history of John of the Girnel, a legend which Mr.Oldbuck was never known to spare any one who crossed his threshold.
The arrival of a stranger of such note, with two saddle-horses and a servant in black, which servant had holsters on his saddle-bow, and a coronet upon the holsters, created a general commotion in the house of Monkbarns.Jenny Rintherout, scarce recovered from the hysterics which she had taken on hearing of poor Steenie's misfortune, chased about the turkeys and poultry, cackled and screamed louder than they did, and ended by killing one-half too many.Miss Griselda made many wise reflections on the hot-headed wilfulness of her brother, who had occasioned such devastation, by suddenly bringing in upon them a papist nobleman.And she ventured to transmit to Mr.Blattergowl some hint of the unusual slaughter which had taken place in the _basse-cour,_ which brought the honest clergyman to inquire how his friend Monkbarns had got home, and whether he was not the worse of being at the funeral, at a period so near the ringing of the bell for dinner, that the Antiquary had no choice left but to invite him to stay and bless the meat.Miss M`Intyre had on her part some curiosity to see this mighty peer, of whom all had heard, as an eastern caliph or sultan is heard of by his subjects, and felt some degree of timidity at the idea of encountering a person, of whose unsocial habits and stern manners so many stories were told, that her fear kept at least pace with her curiosity.The aged housekeeper was no less flustered and hurried in obeying the numerous and contradictory commands of her mistress, concerning preserves, pastry and fruit, the mode of marshalling and dishing the dinner, the necessity of not permitting the melted butter to run to oil, and the danger of allowing Juno--who, though formally banished from the parlour, failed not to maraud about the out-settlements of the family--to enter the kitchen.
The only inmate of Monkbarns who remained entirely indifferent on this momentous occasion was Hector M`Intyre, who cared no more for an Earl than he did for a commoner, and who was only interested in the unexpected visit, as it might afford some protection against his uncle's displeasure, if he harboured any, for his not attending the funeral, and still more against his satire upon the subject of his gallant but unsuccessful single combat with the _phoca,_ or seal.
To these, the inmates of his household, Oldbuck presented the Earl of Glenallan, who underwent, with meek and subdued civility, the prosing speeches of the honest divine, and the lengthened apologies of Miss Griselda Oldbuck, which her brother in vain endeavoured to abridge.Before the dinner hour, Lord Glenallan requested permission to retire a while to his chamber.
Mr.Oldbuck accompanied his guest to the Green Room, which had been hastily prepared for his reception.He looked around with an air of painful recollection.
``I think,'' at length he observed, ``I think, Mr.Oldbuck, that I have been in this apartment before.''
``Yes, my lord,'' answered Oldbuck, ``upon occasion of an excursion hither from Knockwinnock--and since we are upon a subject so melancholy, you may perhaps remember whose taste supplied these lines from Chaucer, which now form the motto of the tapestry.''
``I guess'', said the Earl, ``though I cannot recollect.She excelled me, indeed, in literary taste and information, as in everything else; and it is one of the mysterious dispensations of Providence, Mr.Oldbuck, that a creature so excellent in mind and body should have been cut off in so miserable a manner, merely from her having formed a fatal attachment to such a wretch as I am.''
Mr.Oldbuck did not attempt an answer to this burst of the grief which lay ever nearest to the heart of his guest, but, pressing Lord Glenallan's hand with one of his own, and drawing the other across his shaggy eyelashes, as if to brush away a mist that intercepted his sight, he left the Earl at liberty to arrange himself previous to dinner.