"
"A secret that there is little use in keeping," said Richie; "only ye
ken that our northern stomachs are ower proud to call in witnesses to
our distress. No that my master is in mair than present pinch, sir,"
he added, looking towards the two English apprentices, "having a large
sum in the Royal Treasury--that is," he continued, in a whisper to
Master George,--"the king is owing him a lot of siller; but it's ill
getting at it, it's like.--My master is the young Lord Glenvarloch."
Master George testified surprise at the name.--"_You_ one of the young
Lord Glenvarloch's followers, and in such a condition?"
"Troth, and I am all the followers he has, for the present that is;
and blithe wad I be if he were muckle better aff than I am, though I
were to bide as I am."
"I have seen his father with four gentlemen and ten lackeys at his
heels," said Master George, "rustling in their laces and velvets.
Well, this is a changeful world, but there is a better beyond it.--The
good old house of Glenvarloch, that stood by king and country five
hundred years!"
"Your honour may say a thousand," said the follower.
"I will say what I know to be true, friend," said the citizen, "and
not a word more.--You seem well recovered now--can you walk?"
"Bravely, sir," said Richie; "it was but a bit dover. I was bred at
the West-Port, and my cantle will stand a clour wad bring a stot
down.
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