Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 240: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

anne JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. Lochiel. Now, if I had been the fortunate de- | liverer, I should certainly, in claiming the boon, have insisted upon the building of the bridge. And now I bethink me, it was Mr. Stuart who saved Lochiel I wrote to Saltcoats and also to Baillie Owlhead I would have written to the worthy Widow Glenbucket, only she’s dead 4 Here the Dominie interrupted himself to take a pinch of snuff; and I could not help noticing that the mention of Donald Stuart’s name in connexion with that gallant exploit, conjured up a blush of mingled tenderness and pleasure to the lovely Emmeline’s cheeks. “ How foolish it was of me the other day,” re- sumed the Dominie, “when Mr. Start so posi- tively refused to name any boon at present, not to have dropped him a hint about the bridge. I don’t think Baillie Owlhead of the Gallowgate would have neglected such an opportunity to ac- complish a good purpose. It was very stupid of me! [remember [I told Mr. Stuart of several things that he might not ask; but I did not tell _ him what he ought to demand. And, by the bye, Miss Emmeline, I sai1 amongst other things that he must not have the impudence to demand your hand in marriage os “Look, Mr. Clackmannan!” said the blushing girl, speaking hastily, but full of confusion, “ how beautiful the Inch appears from the middle of the loch !” “ Tt’s just that,” rejoined the Dominie: “ but it would look much better from the top of a bridge. Of course I told Donald Stuart that he must not aspire to your hand—because I not cnly knew that he has neither family nor fortune, but also that you are as deep in love with your cousin Lennox as a young lady can be. And this reminds me of what I said to Saltcoats ss But here the Dominie’s anecdote was nipped in the very bud, by the circumstance of a little gust of wind blowing the contents of his snuff-box ‘into his face: so that it occupied some minutes for him to wipe the powder out of his eyes, which it left all bleared and watery. I pitied Miss Ven- nachar while the obtuse old Dominie was dwelling at more than his usual length wpon topics which must have been so painful for her; and I could not therefore commiserate the Dominie on account of the incident of the snuff-box, because it so for- tunately cut short his prating. The bank was reached: Mr. Clackmannan of- fered his arm to Miss Vennachar ; and I followed at a little distance. On entering the village, the Dominie separated from her to enter the tobacco- nist’s shop; and when he had disappeared from view, I accosted Emmeline, saying, “If you please, Miss, I have a little business to attend to on my own account. May I crave half-an-houv’s leisure while you are at the school ?” She looked hard at me for a few. moments, while the colour went and came upon her cheeks: but I retained a perfect command over my own countenance—because I would not for the world humiliate her by suffering her to think that I, a mere menial, knew the secret of her love, and that I was studiously affording her an opportunity to meet her lover. “You know, Joseph,” she answered, in a slightly tremulous tone, “that my uncle’s orders are positive 4 | ‘ eS ee 227 — “But when I am in attendance upon you, Miss,” I interjected, “I conceive that your orders are paramount. JI hope you will grant me half. an-hour. I have a certain payment to make else- where: it must in honour be made—and I am going to ask the Chief’s factor to remit the money for me.” “In that case, Joseph,” responded Emmeline, “you can of course go. Perhaps you will wait for me in the neighbourhood of the church when you have finished your business.” I hastened away, perfectly weil assured that Mr. Stuart—who had left the Castle before us— would not fail to be on the watch, and that the lovers would enjoy the pleasure of at least a few minutes’ meeting. I proceeded to the factor’s, and explained to him what I wanted. He under- took the commission with his wonted urbanity, and without asking me any questions as to my reasons for remitting a sum of money to a person at Rotterdam. I sauntered back to the village, and deposited in the post-office a letter which I had written to the Dutch captain, advising him of the remittance, and renewing the expressions of my gratitude for all the kindness I had received at his hands. As I came forth from the little shop where the letter-box was kept, whom should I suddenly run against but Mr. Duncansby! The worthy lawyer could not believe his eyes when he beheld me apparelled in a livery-garb; and I felt so overwhelmed with shame and confusion, that I wished the earth would open to swallow me up. The thoughts which naturally swept through my brain, were to the effect that he would be deeply indignant at my conduct in placing myself on a ‘footing of equality with him on the two occasions that we had previously met ; and moreover, that he would regard me asa vile spy on the Chief of Inch Methglin’s part at the time that I fell in with him at Carrondale. He stared at me in a sort of stupid amazement: his look, naturally so good- humoured, grew severe; and he said, “So, young man, it is now no secret how you came to be a visitor ’’—and he ironically accentuated the word —“at Inch Methglin.” “Mr. Duncansby,’ I said, recovering my self- possession, “I beseech you not to misjudge me! Pray listen for a few moments while I explain.” “ Well, well,” said the worthy lawyer, softening somewhat, “1 took you all along for a straight- forward young man; and I hope that I shall have no reason to alter my opinion.” You will not, sir—believe me that you will not !” I exclaimed. “ You treated me kindly—and not for the world could I have proved ungrateful for your goodness, nor for the confidence you to a certain extent reposed in me.” “It’s just that,’ observed Duncansby. “I don’t care about your passing yourself off as something you were not: but if I thought you had striven to worm yourself into my confidence on certain points However, come in here, young man, and we will talk it over.” Thus speaking, he hastily led the way into the little village inn: and entering a parlour, sat down, bidding me take a chair hkewise. “You remember, Mr. Duncansby,” I said, “ we first met at Perth; and you proposed that I should accompany you in a chaise as far as Carrondale. I was going to tell you at the time that the indi- ElO@QO) cS co im