``What the deuce is the matter here?'' he exclaimed, hastily adjusting his head-gear; ``I have been following you in fear of finding your idle loggerhead knocked against one rock or other, and here I find you parted with your Bucephalus, and quarrelling with Sweepclean.A messenger, Hector, is a worse foe than a _phoca,_ whether it be the _phoca barbata,_ or the _phoca vitulina_ of your late conflict.''
``D--n the _phoca,_ sir,'' said Hector, ``whether it be the one or the other--I say d--n them both particularly! I think you would not have me stand quietly by and see a scoundrel like this, because he calls himself a king's messenger, forsooth--(Ihope the king has many better for his meanest errands)--insult a young lady of family and fashion like Miss Wardour?''
``Rightly argued, Hector,'' said the Antiquary; ``but the king, like other people, has now and then shabby errands, and, in your ear, must have shabby fellows to do them.But even supposing you unacquainted with the statutes of William the Lion, in which _capite quarto versu quinto,_ this crime of deforcement is termed _despectus Domini Regis_--a contempt, to wit, of the king himself, in whose name all legal diligence issues,--could you not have inferred, from the information I took so much pains to give you to-day, that those who interrupt officers who come to execute letters of caption, are _tanquam participes criminis rebellionis?_ seeing that he who aids a rebel, is himself, _quodammodo,_ an accessory to rebellion--But I'll bring you out of this scrape.''
He then spoke to the messenger, who, upon his arrival, had laid aside all thoughts of making a good by-job out of the deforcement, and accepted Mr.Oldbuck's assurances that the horse and taxed-cart should be safely returned in the course of two or three hours.
``Very well, sir,'' said the Antiquary, ``since you are disposed to be so civil, you shall have another job in your own best way --a little cast of state politics--a crime punishable _per Legem Juliam,_ Mr.Sweepclean--Hark thee hither.''
And after a whisper of five minutes, he gave him a slip of paper, on receiving which, the messenger mounted his horse, and, with one of his assistants, rode away pretty sharply.The fellow who remained seemed to delay his operations purposely, proceeded in the rest of his duty very slowly, and with the caution and precision of one who feels himself overlooked by a skilful and severe inspector.
In the meantime, Oldbuck, taking his nephew by the arm, led him into the house, and they were ushered into the presence of Sir Arthur Wardour, who, in a flutter between wounded pride, agonized apprehension, and vain attempts to disguise both under a show of indifference, exhibited a spectacle of painful interest.
``Happy to see you, Mr.Oldbuck--always happy to see my friends in fair weather or foul,'' said the poor Baronet, struggling not for composure, but for gaiety--an affectation which was strongly contrasted by the nervous and protracted grasp of his hand, and the agitation of his whole demeanour--``I am happy to see you.You are riding, I see--I hope in this confusion your horses are taken good care of--I always like to have my friend's horses looked after--Egad! they will have all my care now, for you see they are like to leave me none of my own--he! he! he! eh, Mr.Oldbuck?''
This attempt at a jest was attended by a hysterical giggle, which poor Sir Arthur intended should sound as an indifferent laugh.
``You know I never ride, Sir Arthur,'' said the Antiquary.
``I beg your pardon; but sure I saw your nephew arrive on horseback a short time since.We must look after officers'
horses, and his was as handsome a grey charger as I have seen.''
Sir Arthur was about to ring the bell, when Mr.Oldbuck said, ``My nephew came on your own grey horse, Sir Arthur.''
``Mine!'' said the poor Baronet; ``mine was it? then the sun had been in my eyes.Well, I'm not worthy having a horse any longer, since I don't know my own when I see him.''
``Good Heaven!'' thought Oldbuck, ``how is this man altered from the formal stolidity of his usual manner!--he grows wanton under adversity--_Sed pereunti mille figur<ae>._''--He then proceeded aloud--``Sir Arthur, we must necessarily speak a little on business.''
``To be sure,'' said Sir Arthur; ``but it was so good that Ishould not know the horse I have ridden these five years--ha!
ha! ha!''
``Sir Arthur,'' said the Antiquary, ``don't let us waste time which is precious; we shall have, I hope, many better seasons for jesting--_desipere in loco_ is the maxim of Horace.I more than suspect this has been brought on by the villany of Dousterswivel.''
``Don't mention his name, sir!'' said Sir Arthur; and his manner entirely changed from a fluttered affectation of gaiety to all the agitation of fury; his eyes sparkled, his mouth foamed, his hands were clenched--``don't mention his name, sir,'' he vociferated, ``unless you would see me go mad in your presence! That I should have been such a miserable dolt--such an infatuated idiot--such a beast endowed with thrice a beast's stupidity, to be led and driven and spur-galled by such a rascal, and under such ridiculous pretences!--Mr.Oldbuck, Icould tear myself when I think of it.''
``I only meant to say,'' answered the Antiquary, ``that this fellow is like to meet his reward; and I cannot but think we shall frighten something out of him that may be of service to you.He has certainly had some unlawful correspondence on the other side of the water.''
``Has he?--has he?--has he indeed?--then d--n the house-hold goods, horses, and so forth--I will go to prison a happy man, Mr.Oldbuck.I hope in heaven there's a reasonable chance of his being hanged?''
