"We have no twopence ale," answered Ralph Heskett the landlord; "but as thou find'st thy own tobacco, it's like thou mayst find thy own liquor too--it's the wont of thy country, I wot."
"Shame, goodman," said the landlady, a blithe, bustling housewife, hastening herself to supply the guest with liquor.
"Thou knowest well enow what the strange man wants, and it's thy trade to be civil, man. Thou shouldst know, that if the Scot likes a small pot, he pays a sure penny."
Without taking any notice of this nuptial dialogue, the Highlander took the flagon in his hand, and addressing the company generally, drank the interesting toast of "Good markets" to the party assembled.
"The better that the wind blew fewer dealers from the north," said one of the farmers, "and fewer Highland runts to eat up the English meadows."
"Saul of my pody, put you are wrang there, my friend," answered Robin, with composure; "it is your fat Englishmen that eat up our Scots cattle, puir things."
"I wish there was a summat to eat up their drovers," said another; "a plain Englishman canna make bread within a kenning of them."
"Or an honest servant keep his master's favour but they will come sliding in between him and the sunshine," said the bailiff.
"If these pe jokes," said Robin Oig, with the same composure, "there is ower mony jokes upon one man."
"It is no joke, but downright earnest," said the bailiff.
"Harkye, Mr. Robin Ogg, or whatever is your name, it's right we should tell you that we are all of one opinion, and that is, that you, Mr. Robin Ogg, have behaved to our friend Mr. Harry Wakefield here, like a raff and a blackguard."
"Nae doubt, nae doubt," answered Robin, with great composure; "and you are a set of very pretty judges, for whose prains or pehaviour I wad not gie a pinch of sneeshing. If Mr. Harry Waakfelt kens where he is wranged, he kens where he may be righted."
"He speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened to what passed, divided between the offence which he had taken at Robin's late behaviour, and the revival of his habitual feelings of regard.
He now rose, and went towards Robin, who got up from his seat as he approached, and held out his hand.
"That's right, Harry--go it--serve him out," resounded on all sides--"tip him the nailer--show him the mill."
"Hold your peace all of you, and be--," said Wakefield; and then addressing his comrade, he took him by the extended hand, with something alike of respect and defiance. "Robin," he said, "thou hast used me ill enough this day; but if you mean, like a frank fellow, to shake hands, and take a tussle for love on the sod, why I'll forgie thee, man, and we shall be better friends than ever."
"And would it not pe petter to pe cood friends without more of the matter?" said Robin; "we will be much petter friendships with our panes hale than proken."
Harry Wakefield dropped the hand of his friend, or rather threw it from him.
"I did not think I had been keeping company for three years with a coward."
"Coward pelongs to none of my name," said Robin, whose eyes began to kindle, but keeping the command of his temper. "It was no coward's legs or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of Frew, when you was drifting ower the plack rock, and every eel in the river expected his share of you."
"And that is true enough, too," said the Englishman, struck by the appeal.
"Adzooks!" exclaimed the bailiff--"sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw Bank, is not going to show white feather? Ah, this comes of living so long with kilts and bonnets--men forget the use of their daddles."
"I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have not lost the use of mine," said Wakefield and then went on. "This will never do, Robin. We must have a turn-up, or we shall be the talk of the country-side. I'll be d--d if I hurt thee--I'll put on the gloves gin thou like. Come, stand forward like a man."
"To be peaten like a dog," said Robin; "is there any reason in that? If you think I have done you wrong, I'll go before your shudge, though I neither know his law nor his language."
A general cry of "No, no--no law, no lawyer! a bellyful and be friends," was echoed by the bystanders.
"But," continued Robin, "if I am to fight, I have no skill to fight like a jackanapes, with hands and nails."
"How would you fight then?" said his antagonist; "though I am thinking it would be hard to bring you to the scratch anyhow."
"I would fight with proadswords, and sink point on the first plood drawn--like a gentlemans."
A loud shout of laughter followed the proposal, which indeed had rather escaped from poor Robin's swelling heart, than been the dictate of his sober judgment.
"Gentleman, quotha!" was echoed on all sides, with a shout of unextinguishable laughter; "a very pretty gentleman, God wot.
--Canst get two swords for the gentleman to fight with, Ralph Heskett?"
"No, but I can send to the armoury at Carlisle, and lend them two forks, to be ****** shift with in the meantime."
"Tush, man," said another, "the bonny Scots come into the world with the blue bonnet on their heads, and dirk and pistol at their belt."
"Best send post," said Mr. Fleecebumpkin, "to the Squire of Corby Castle, to come and stand second to the GENTLEMAN."
In the midst of this torrent of general ridicule, the Highlander instinctively griped beneath the folds of his plaid, "But it's better not," he said in his own language. "A hundred curses on the swine-eaters, who know neither decency nor civility!"
"Make room, the pack of you," he said, advancing to the door.
But his former friend interposed his sturdy bulk, and opposed his leaving the house; and when Robin Oig attempted to make his way by force, he hit him down on the floor, with as much ease as a boy bowls down a nine-pin.
"A ring, a ring!" was now shouted, until the dark rafters, and the hams that hung on them, trembled again, and the very platters on the BINK clattered against each other. "Well done, Harry"
--"Give it him home, Harry"--"Take care of him now--he sees his own blood!"
