"
And Caleb boldly departed.
Every expended butt in the old cellar did he set a-tilt, and shake with
the desperate expectation of collecting enough of the grounds of claret
to fill the large pewter measure which he carred in his hand. Alas!
each had been too devoutly drained; and, with all the squeezing and
manoeuvring which his craft as a butler suggested, he could only collect
about half a quart that seemed presentable. Still, however, Caleb was
too good a general to renounce the field without a strategem to cover
his retreat. He undauntedly threw down an empty flagon, as if he had
stumbled at the entrance of the apartment, called upon Mysie to wipe up
the wine that had never been spilt, and placing the other vessel on the
table, hoped there was still enough left for their honours. There
was indeed; for even Bucklaw, a sworn friend to the grape, found no
encouragement to renew his first attack upon the vintage of Wolf's
Crag, but contented himself, however reluctantly, with a draught of
fair water. Arrangements were now made for his repose; and as the
secret chamber was assigned for this purpose, it furnished Caleb with a
first-rate and most plausible apology for all deficiencies of furniture,
bedding, etc.
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