Sir Mungo, in the meanwhile, caught up, as usual, Nigel's last words,
or rather the sound of them, and amplified and interpreted them in his
own way. "Tolerable luck!" he repeated; "yes, truly, my lord, I am
told that you have tolerable luck, and that ye ken weel how to use
that jilting quean, Dame Fortune, like a canny douce lad, willing to
warm yourself in her smiles, without exposing yourself to her frowns.
And that is what I ca' having luck in a bag."
"Sir Mungo Malagrowther," said Lord Glenvarloch, turning towards him
seriously, "have the goodness to hear me for a moment."
"As weel as I can, my lord--as weel as I can," said Sir Mungo, shaking
his head, and pointing the finger of his left hand to his ear.
"I will try to speak very distinctly," said Nigel, arming himself with
patience. "You take me for a noted gamester; I give you my word that
you have not been rightly informed--I am none such. You owe me some
explanation, at least, respecting the source from which you have
derived such false information."
"I never heard ye were a _great_ gamester, and never thought or said
ye were such, my lord," said Sir Mungo, who found it impossible to
avoid hearing what Nigel said with peculiarly deliberate and distinct
pronunciation." I repeat it--I never heard, said, or thought that you
were a ruffling gamester,--such as they call those of the first head.
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