“Ay, a marriage, man,” said Bucklaw; “but wherefore droops they might spirit, and why grow the rubies on they cheek so pale?  The board will have a corner, and the corner will have a trencher, and the trencher will have a glass beside it; and the board-end shall be filled, and the trencher and the glass shall be replenished for thee, if all the petticoats in Lothian had sworn the contrary.  What, man!  I am not the boy to put myself into leading-strings.”

“So says many an honest fellow,” said Craigengelt, “and some of my special friends; but, curse me if I know the reason, the women could never bear me, and always contrived to trundle me out of favour before the honeymoon was over.”

“If you could have kept your ground till that was over, you might have made a good year’s pension,” said Bucklaw.

“But I never could,” answered the dejected parasite.  “There was my Lord Castle-Cuddy—­we were hand and glove:  I rode his horses, borrowed money both for him and from him, trained his hawks, and taught him how to lay his bets; and when he took a fancy of marrying, I married him to Katie Glegg, whom I thought myself as sure of as man could be of woman.  Egad, she had me out of the house, as if I had run on wheels, within the first fortnight!”

“Well!” replied Bucklaw, “I think I have nothing of Castle-Cuddy about me, or Lucy of Katie Glegg.  But you see the thing will go on whether you like it or no; the only question is, will you be useful?”

“Useful!” exclaimed the Captain, “and to thee, my lad of lands, my darling boy, whom I would tramp barefooted through the world for!  Name time, place, mode, and circumstances, and see if I will not be useful in all uses that can be devised.”

“Why, then, you must ride two hundred miles for me,” said the patron.

“A thousand, and call them a flea’s leap,” answered the dependant; “I’ll cause saddle my horse directly.”

“Better stay till you know where you are to go, and what you are to do,” quoth Bucklaw.  “You know I have a kinswoman in Northumberland, Lady Blenkensop by name, whose old acquaintance I had the misfortune to lose in the period of my poverty, but the light of whose countenance shone forth upon me when the sun of my prosperity began to arise.”

“D—­n all such double-faced jades!” exclaimed Craigengelt, heroically; “this I will say for John Craigengelt, that he is his friend’s friend through good report and bad report, poverty and riches; and you know something of that yourself, Bucklaw.”

“I have not forgot your merits,” said his patron; “I do remember that, in my extremities, you had a mind to crimp me for the service of the French king, or of the Pretender; and, moreover, that you afterwards lent me a score of pieces, when, as I firmly believe, you had heard the news that old Lady Girnington had a touch of the dead palsy.  But don’t be downcast, John; I believe, after all, you like me very well in your way, and it is my misfortune to have no better counsellor at present.  To return to this Lady Blenkensop, you must know, she is a close confederate of Duchess Sarah.”