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A Legend of Montrose-Part23_WALTER SCOTT(1771-1832)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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uniform in colour, and rather rich than gay. His dark



complexion, furrowed forehead, and downcast look, gave him the

appearance of one frequently engaged in the consideration of



important affairs, and who has acquired, by long habit, an air of

gravity and mystery, which he cannot shake off even where there



is nothing to be concealed. The cast with his eyes, which had

procured him in the Highlands the nickname of Gillespie Grumach



(or the grim), was less perceptible when he looked downward,

which perhaps was one cause of his having adopted that habit.



In person, he was tall and thin, but not without that dignity of

deportment and manners, which became his high rank. Something



there was cold in his address, and sinister in his look, although

he spoke and behaved with the usual grace of a man of such



quality. He was adored by his own clan, whose advancement he had

greatly studied, although he was in proportiondisliked by the



Highlanders of other septs, some of whom he had already stripped

of their possessions, while others conceived themselves in danger



from his future schemes, and all dreaded the height to which he

was elevated.



We have already noticed, that in displaying himself amidst his

councillors, his officers of the household, and his train of



vassals, allies, and dependents, the Marquis of Argyle probably

wished to make an impression on the nervoussystem of Captain



Dugald Dalgetty. But that doughty person had fought his way, in

one department or another, through the greater part of the Thirty



Years' War in Germany, a period when a brave and successful

soldier was a companion for princes. The King of Sweden, and,



after his example, even the haughty Princes of the Empire, had

found themselves fain, frequently to compound with their dignity,



and silence, when they could not satisfy the pecuniary claims of

their soldiers, by admitting them to unusual privileges and



familiarity. Captain Dugald Dalgetty had it to boast, that he

had sate with princes at feasts made for monarchs, and therefore



was not a person to be brow-beat even by the dignity which

surrounded M'Callum More. Indeed, he was naturally by no means



the most modest man in the world, but, on the contrary, had so

good an opinion of himself, that into whatever company he chanced



to be thrown, he was always proportionally elevated in his own

conceit; so that he felt as much at ease in the most exalted



society as among his own ordinary companions. In this high

opinion of his own rank, he was greatly fortified by his ideas of



the military profession, which, in his phrase, made a valiant

cavalier a camarade to an emperor.



When introduced, therefore, into the Marquis's presence-chamber,

he advanced to the upper end with an air of more confidence than



grace, and would have gone close up to Argyle's person before

speaking, had not the latter waved his hand, as a signal to him



to stop short. Captain Dalgetty did so accordingly, and having

made his military congee with easy confidence, he thus accosted



the Marquis: "Give you good morrow, my lord--or rather I should

say, good even; BESO A USTED LOS MANOS, as the Spaniard says."



"Who are you, sir, and what is your business?" demanded the

Marquis, in a tone which was intended to interrupt the offensive



familiarity of the soldier.

"That is a fair interrogative, my lord," answered Dalgetty,



"which I shall forthwith answer as becomes a cavalier, and that

PEREMPTORIE, as we used to say at Mareschal-College."



"See who or what he is, Neal," said the Marquis sternly, to a

gentleman who stood near him.



"I will save the honourable gentleman the labour of

investigation," continued the Captain. "I am Dugald Dalgetty, of



Drumthwacket, that should be, late Ritt-master in various

services, and now Major of I know not what or whose regiment of



Irishes; and I am come with a flag of truce from a high and

powerful lord, James Earl of Montrose, and other noble persons



now in arms for his Majesty. And so, God save King Charles!"

"Do you know where you are, and the danger of dallying with us,



sir," again demanded the Marquis, "that you reply to me as if I

were a child or a fool? The Earl of Montrose is with the English






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