Chapter 31

Many, come up, sir, with your gentle blood!
Here's a red stream beneath this coarse blue doublet,
That warms the heart as kindly as if drawn
From the far source of old Assyrian kings.
Who first made mankind subject to their sway.
_Old Play_.

The sounds to which we alluded in our last, were no other than the
grumbling tones of Richie Moniplies's voice.

This worthy, like some other persons who rank high in their own
opinion, was very apt, when he could have no other auditor, to hold
conversation with one who was sure to be a willing listener--I mean
with himself. He was now brushing and arranging Lord Glenvarloch's
clothes, with as much composure and quiet assiduity as if he had never
been out of his service, and grumbling betwixt whiles to the following
purpose:--"Hump--ay, time cloak and jerkin were through my hands--I
question if horsehair has been passed over them since they and I last
parted. The embroidery finely frayed too--and the gold buttons of the
cloak--By my conscience, and as I am an honest man, there is a round
dozen of them gane! This comes of Alsatian frolics--God keep us with
his grace, and not give us over to our own devices!--I see no sword--
but that will be in respect of present circumstances."

Nigel for some time could not help believing that he was still in a
dream, so improbable did it seem that his domestic, whom he supposed
to be in Scotland, should have found him out, and obtained access to
him, in his present circumstances. Looking through the curtains,
however, he became well assured of the fact, when he beheld the stiff
and bony length of Richie, with a visage charged with nearly double
its ordinary degree of importance, employed sedulously in brushing his
master's cloak, and refreshing himself with whistling or humming, from
interval to interval, some snatch of an old melancholy Scottish
ballad-tune. Although sufficiently convinced of the identity of the
party, Lord Glenvarloch could not help expressing his surprise in the
superfluous question--"In the name of Heaven, Richie, is this you?"

"And wha else suld it be, my lord?" answered Richie; "I dreamna that
your lordship's levee in this place is like to be attended by ony that
are not bounded thereto by duty."

"I am rather surprised," answered Nigel, "that it should be attended
by any one at all--especially by you, Richie; for you know that we
parted, and I thought you had reached Scotland long since."

"I crave your lordship's pardon, but we have not parted yet, nor are
soon likely so to do; for there gang twa folk's votes to the unmaking
of a bargain, as to the making of ane. Though it was your lordship's
pleasure