``I ken weel that you mean the solemn League and Covenant; but if all the Whigs in hell had taken the''------Here the Baron and Waverley both spoke at once, the former calling out, ``Be silent, sir! ye not only show your ignorance but disgrace your native country before a stranger and an Englishman;'' and Waverley, at the same moment, entreating Mr.Bradwardine to permit him to reply to an affront which seemed levelled at him personally.But the Baron was exalted by wine, wrath, and scorn, above all sublunary considerations.
``I crave you to be hushed, Captain Waverley; you are elsewhere, peradventure, _sui juris,_---foris-familiated, that is, and entitled, it may be, to think and resent for yourself; but in my domain, in this poor Barony of Bradwardine, and under this roof, which is _quasi_ mine, being held by tacit relocation by a tenant at will, I am _in loco parentis_ to you, and bound to see you scathless.---And for you, Mr.Falconer of Balmawhapple, I warn ye, let me see no more aberrations from the paths of good manners.''
``And I tell you, Mr.Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, of Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan,'' retorted the sportsman, in huge disdain, ``that I'll make a moor-cock of the man that refuses my toast, whether it be a crop-eared English Whig wi' a black ribband at his lug, or ane wha deserts his ain friends to claw favour wi' the rats of Hanover.''
In an instant both rapiers were brandished, and some desperate passes exchanged.Balmawhapple was young, stout, and active;but the Baron, infinitely more master of his weapon, would, like Sir Toby Belch, have tickled his opponent other gates than he did, had he not been under the influence of Ursa Major.
Edward rushed forward to interfere between the combatants, but the prostrate bulk of the Laird of Killancureit, over which he stumbled, intercepted his passage.How Killancureit happened to be in this recumbent posture at so interesting a moment, was never accurately known.Some thought he was about to ensconce himself under the table; he himself alleged that he stumbled in the act of lifting a joint-stool, to prevent mischief, by knocking down Balmawhapple.Be that as it may, if readier aid than either his or Waverley's had not interposed, there would certainly have been bloodshed.But the well-known clash of swords, which was no stranger to her dwelling, aroused Luckie Macleary as she sat quietly beyond the hallan or earthen partition of the cottage, with eyes employed on Boston's Crook of the Lot, while her ideas were engaged in summing up the reckoning.She boldly rushed in, with the shrill expostulation, ``Wad their honours slay ane another there, and bring discredit on an honest widow-woman's house, when there was a' the lee land in the country to fight upon?'' a remonstrance which she seconded by flinging her plaid with great dexterity over the weapons of the combatants.The servants by this time rushed in, and being, by great chance, tolerably sober, separated the incensed opponents, with the assistance of Edward and Killancureit.
The latter led off Balmawhapple, cursing, swearing, and vowing revenge against every Whig, Presbyterian, and fanatic in England and Scotland, from John-o'-Groat's to the Land's End, and with difficulty got him to horse.Our hero, with the assistance of Saunders Saunderson, escorted the Baron of Bradwardine to his own dwelling, but could not prevail upon him to retire to bed until he had made a long and learned apology for the events of the evening, of which, however, there was not a word intelligible, except something about the Centaurs and the Lapith<ae>.