's
scheme, which was just then broached, and offered his services to travel
express to Paris for the purpose. But Bucklaw had so far derived wisdom
from adversity, that he would listen to no proposal which Craigengelt
could invent, which had the slightest tendency to risk his
newly-acquired independence. He that had once eat pease-bannocks, drank
sour wine, and slept in the secret chamber at Wolf's Crag, would, he
said, prize good cheer and a soft bed as long as he lived, and take
special care never to need such hospitality again.

Craigengelt, therefore, found himself disappointed in the first hopes
he had entertained of making a good hand of the Laird of Bucklaw. Still,
however, he reaped many advantages from his friend's good fortune.
Bucklaw, who had never been at all scrupulous in choosing his
companions, was accustomed to, and entertained by, a fellow whom he
could either laugh with or laugh at as he had a mind, who would take,
according to Scottish phrase, "the bit and the buffet," understood all
sports, whether within or without doors, and, when the laird had a mind
for a bottle of wine (no infrequent circumstance), was always ready to
save him from the scandal of getting drunk by himself. Upon these terms,
Craigengelt was the frequent, almost the constant, inmate of the house
of Girnington.

In no time, and under no possibility of circumstances, could good have
been derived from such an intimacy, however its bad consequences might
be qualified by the thorough knowledge which Bucklaw possessed of his
dependant's character, and the high contempt in which he held it. But,
as circumstances stood, this evil communication was particularly liable
to corrupt what good principles nature had implanted in the patron.

Craigengelt had never forgiven the scorn with which Ravenswood had torn
the mask of courage and honesty from his countenance; and to exasperate
Bucklaw's resentment against him was the safest mode of revenge which
occurred to his cowardly, yet cunning and malignant, disposition.

He brought up on all occasions the story of the challenge which
Ravenswood had declined to accept, and endeavoured, by every possible
insinuation, to make his patron believe that his honour was concerned
in bringing that matter to an issue by a present discussion with
Ravenswood. But respecting this subject Bucklaw imposed on him, at
length, a peremptory command of silence.

"I think," he said, "the Master has treated me unlike