Part 9 (1/2)
”Then I will have your hand on it,” said he, ”and may Homer go to the devil. But Theocritus and Oppian, ay, even Plato, mention it without disrespect, and does not Horace himself say 'Piscemur'? Surely we have authority.”
But this was all the taste I had of my preceptor's conversation, for he had been walking all day in miry ways, and his limbs were tired: nor was I surprised to see his head soon sink forward on his breast; and in a trice he was sleeping the sleep of the just and labouring man.
And now we were joined by a newcomer, no less than Mistress Kate Wishart, as pretty a la.s.s as you will see in a day's journey. She had been nurtured by her father amid an aroma of learning, and, truly, for a maid, she was wondrous learned, and would dispute and cite instances with a fine grace and a skill which astonished all. To me, who am country-bred and a trifle over-fastidious, she seemed a thought pedantic and proud of her knowledge; but what is hateful in a hard-featured woman is to be pardoned in a fresh la.s.s. Her father brought me to her and presented me, which she acknowledged with a courtsey which became her mightily; but I spoke not two words to her, for the old man led me away down one of the alleys among the trees.
”Kate'll look after thae auld dotterels,” said he, speaking in the broadest Scots; ”I brocht her out that I micht get a word wi' ye my lane, for I'm fair deein' for news frae the auld country. First of a', how is Saunders Blackett at Peebles? Him and me were aince weel acquant.” And when I had told him, he ran off into a string of inquiries about many folk whom I knew, and whom he once had known, which I answered according to my ability.
”And now,” he says, ”I've bidden twa-three o' the officers o' the Scots brigade to supper the nicht, so ye'll see some guid Scots physiogs after thae fosy Dutchmen. Ye'll maybe ken some o' them.”
I thanked him for his consideration, and after I had answered his many questions, we returned to the others, whom I found busily arguing some point in divinity, with Mistress Kate very disgusted in their midst.
”Gang intil the house wi' my dochter, John,” said Master Wishart, and, giving her my arm, I did as I was bid, while the others straggled after in twos and threes.
CHAPTER III
THE STORY OF A SUPPER PARTY
My first thought on entering the supper-room was one of amazement. The owner of the house, whom I had taken to be a man of simple tastes, here proved himself to be a very Caliph for magnificence. Many choice paintings looked down at us from the sides, richly framed, and fitting into recesses in the panelled walls. The floor was laid with bright-dyed rugs and carpets of Venetian stuff, and the chairs and couches were of finely carven wood. The whole was lit with a long line of waxen candles in silver sconces, which disputed the sovereignty with the departing daylight. But the choicest sight was the table which was laden, nay heaped, with rich dishes and rare meats, while in the gla.s.s and metal flagons the wine danced and flamed. I was of country-bred habits, and the display at first all but took the breath from me; indeed it was not a little time ere I could take my eyes from it and turn them on the a.s.sembled guests.
Those who had not been present in the garden were gathered at the lower end of the room, whither the master of the place betook himself to greet them. I marked two or three of the burgher folk by their dress and well-filled bellies, contrasting strangely with the lean figure of a minister who stood among them clothed in some decent, dark stuff, and wearing white bands ostentatiously. There were also some of the officers in the Scots regiment, at least of that portion of it which was then lying at Leyden. Their dress was sober compared with the richness of such soldiery as I had seen in my own land, but against the attire of the citizens, it was gaudiness itself.
I found myself sitting close to the head of the table, on the right hand of my host, betwixt a portly doctor of laws and my worthy Master Quellinus. This latter was now all but recovered from his fatigue, having slept soundly in the arbour. He was in a high good humour at the sight of the many varied dishes before him, and cried out their merits to me in a loud, excited tone, which made my cheeks burn. ”There,” he cried, ”there is the dish I love above all others. 'Tis hashed venison with young herbs, and sour wine for a relish. Ah, I have already enjoyed it in antic.i.p.ation. In a few seconds I shall have enjoyed it in reality. Therefore I argue I have gained two pleasures from it, whereas men of no imagination have but one. And, G.o.d bless my eyes! do I see a plate of stewed eels over there before that thick man in the brown coat?
Gad! I fear he will devour them all himself, for he looks to have capacity and judgment. Plague take him, I am in a very torment of anxiety. Prithee, my good John, seek out a servant and bid him bring it over here.” I know not how far he might have gone, had not all talking been put an end to by the minister arising and saying a lengthy Latin grace. In the midst of it I stole a glance at my neighbour, and his face wore so comical an expression of mingled disgust and eagerness that I could scarcely refrain from laughing. But all did not conduct themselves so well, for there was a great disputation going on among some of the regiment which much hindered the effect of the minister's Latin. Indeed, I believe had he spoken another dozen words, the patience of some would have gone altogether.
”Now,” said Master Wishart from the head of the table, ”I trust, gentlemen, that ye may find the entertainment to your liking. Fall to heartily, for this weather gives a keen edge to the appet.i.te. _Occupet extremum scabies_, as Horatius hath it; which being translated into the vulgar idiom is 'Deil tak the hin-most.' Know you that proverb, John?
Come, Master Quellinus, set to, man, ye've had a serious day's work, and our fleshly tabernacles will not subsist on nothing,” adding in an undertone to me, ”though it's little pressing ye need, for to press ye to eat is like giving a shog to a cairt that's fa'in ower the Castle Rock.”
I paid little heed to Master Quellinus's conversation, which ran chiefly on viands, or to that of my left-hand neighbour, whose mouth was too full for words. But I found great entertainment in watching the faces and listening to the speech of some of the other guests. The table was wide and the light dim, so that I had much ado to make out clearly those opposite me. I marked Mistress Kate, very daintily dressed, talking gaily to some one at her side.
”Well, to tell you the truth, my dear Mistress Kate, this land of yours is not very much to my liking. To be sure a soldier is contented wherever his duty calls him, but there is no fighting to be done, and the sport is not what I have found it elsewhere. I am in such a devilish strict place that, Gad, I cannot have a game with a fat citizen without having to listen to a rigmarole of half an hour's duration on the next morning. There is so much psalm-singing in the place that an honest gentleman can scarcely raise a merry song without having his voice stopped by half a dozen sour-faced knaves. 'Faith, I wish I were back in my own land, where there is some work for a cavalier. There is but one thing that I should except,” and he bowed low to his neighbour, ”the women, who are as beautiful as the men-folk are hideous. Though, in truth, I believe that the most lovely of them all is a countrywoman of my own”; and again he made her a fine bow.
The voice and the tone were strangely familiar, but for the life of me, I could not give them a name. I could only note that the man was a big, squarely-made fellow, and that he seemed to be in a mind to make love to his host's daughter. She made some blus.h.i.+ng reply to his compliments, and then, as luck would have it, a servant set a light between us, and the faces of both were revealed clearly to me.
I sat bolt upright in my chair with sheer astonishment. For there, dressed in the habiliments of the Scots regiment, and bearing himself with all his old braggadocio, sat my cousin Gilbert.
Then I remembered how I had heard that he had gone abroad to some foreign service, partly to escape the consequences of some sc.r.a.pes into which he had fallen, partly to get rid of his many debts. And here he was, coming to the one place in Europe to which I had chosen to go, and meeting me at the one table which I had chosen to frequent. In that moment I felt as if the man before me were bound up in some sinister way with my own life.
Almost at the same instant he turned his eyes upon me, and we stared in each other's face. I saw him start, bend his head toward his companion and ask some question. I judged it to be some query about my name and doings, for the next moment he looked over to me and accosted me with a great semblance of hilarity.
”What,” he cries. ”Do I see my cousin John? I had not dared to hope for such a welcome meeting. How came you here?” And he asked me a string of questions.
I answered shortly and with no great cordiality, for I still remembered the doings in Tweeddale, and my heart was still sore in the matter of my father's death. Forbye this, Gilbert spoke with not a little covert scorn in his tone, which I, who knew his ways well, was not slow to detect. It nettled me to think that I was once more to be made to endure the pleasantries of my cousin.
”And how goes all in Tweeddale, my dear cousin?” said he. ”I condole with you on your father's death. Ah, he was a good man indeed, and there are few like him nowadays. And how does Tam Todd, my friend, who has such a thick skull and merciless arm? And ah, I forgot! Pray forgive my neglect. How is fair Mistress Marjory, the coy maid who would have none of my courtesies?”
The amazing impudence of the fellow staggered me. It almost pa.s.sed belief that he should speak thus of my father whose death had lain so heavily at his door. This I might have pardoned; but that at a public table he should talk thus of my love irritated me beyond measure. I acted as I do always when thus angered: I gave him a short answer and fell into a state of moody disquietude.