"
"Very true, my lord," replied the trusty adherent, and with ready wit
instantly added, "and the lazy sclater loons have never come to put it
on a' this while, your lordship."
"If I were disposed to jest at the calamities of my house," said
Ravenswood, as he led the way upstairs, "poor old Caleb would furnish me
with ample means. His passion consists in representing things about our
miserable menage, not as they are, but as, in his opinion, they ought
to be; and, to say the truth, I have been often diverted with the poor
wretch's expedients to supply what he though was essential for the credit
of the family, and his still more generous apologies for the want of
those articles for which his ingenuity could discover no substitute.
But though the tower is none of the largest, I shall have some trouble
without him to find the apartment in which there is a fire."
As he spoke thus, he opened the door of the hall. "Here, at least," he
said, "there is neither hearth nor harbour."
It was indeed a scene of desolation. A large vaulted room, the beams of
which, combined like those of Westminster Hall, were rudely carved at
the extremities, remained nearly in the situation in which it had been
left after the entertainment at at Allan Lord Ravenswood's funeral.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165