Chapter 28

Was ever woman in this humor wooed?
Was ever woman in this humour won?
I'll have her.

Richard III.

TWELVE months had passed away since the Master of Ravenswood's departure
for the continent, and, although his return to Scotland had been
expected in a much shorter space, yet the affairs of his mission,
or, according to a prevailing report, others of a nature personal to
himself, still detained him abroad. In the mean time, the altered state
of affairs in Sir William Ashton's family may be gathered from the
following conversation which took place betwixt Bucklaw and his
confidential bottle companion and dependant, the noted Captain
Craigengelt. They were seated on either side of the huge
sepulchral-looking freestone chimney in the low hall at Girnington.
A wood fire blazed merrily in the grate; a round oaken table, placed
between them, supported a stoup of excellent claret, two rummer glasses,
and other good cheer; and yet, with all these appliances and means
to boot, the countenance of the patron was dubious, doubtful, and
unsatisfied, while the invention of his dependant was taxed to the
utmost to parry what he most dreaded, a fit, as he called it, of
the sullens, on the part of his protector. After a long pause, only
interrupted by the devil's tattoo, which Bucklaw kept beating against
the hearth with the toe of his boot, Craigengelt at last ventured to
break silence. "May I be double distanced," said he, "if ever I saw a
man in my life have less the air of a bridegroom! Cut me out of feather,
if you have not more the look of a man condemned to be hanged!"

"My kind thanks for the compliment," replied Bucklaw; "but I suppose you
think upon the predicament in which you yourself are most likely to be
placed; and pray, Captain Craigengelt, if it please your worship, why
should I look merry, when I'm sad, and devilish sad too?"

"And that's what vexes me," said Craigengelt. "Here is this match, the
best in the whole country, and which were so anxious about, is on the
point of being concluded, and you are as sulky as a bear that has lost
its whelps."

"I do not know," answered the Laird, doggedly, "whether I should
conclude or not, if it was not that I am too far forwards to leap back."

"Leap back!" exclaimed Craigengelt, with a well-assumed air of
astonishment, "that would be playing the back-game with a witness! Leap
back! Why, is not the girl's fortune----"

"The young lady's, if you please," said Hayston, interrupting him.

"Well--well, no disrespect meant. Will Miss Ashton's tocher not weigh
against any in Lothian?"

"Granted,"