There he stands, and
wha kens if he wants the money on the nail, or if he might not be as
weel pleased wi' a bit rescript on our treasury some six months hence?
Ye ken that our Exchequer is even at a low ebb just now, and ye cry
pay, pay, pay, as if we had all the mines of Ophir."
"Please your Majesty," said Heriot, "if this man has the real right to
these monies, it is doubtless at his will to grant forbearance, if he
will. But when I remember the guise in which I first saw him, with a
tattered cloak and a broken head, I can hardly conceive it.--Are not
you Richie Moniplies, with the king's favour?"
"Even sae, Master Heriot--of the ancient and honourable house of
Castle Collop, near to the West Port of Edinburgh," answered Richie.
"Why, please your Majesty, he is a poor serving-man," said Heriot.
"This money can never be honestly at his disposal."
"What for no?" said the king. "Wad ye have naebody spraickle up the
brae but yoursell, Geordie? Your ain cloak was thin enough when ye cam
here, though ye have lined it gay and weel. And for serving-men, there
has mony a red-shank cam over the Tweed wi' his master's wallet on his
shoulders, that now rustles it wi' his six followers behind him. There
stands the man himsell; speer at him, Geordie."
"His may not be the best authority in the case," answered the cautious
citizen.
"Tut, tut, man," said the king, "ye are over scrupulous.
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