"
The steady coolness and assurance with which these words were uttered,
although the voice was the very voice he had heard at the old convent,
and although the features more nearly resembled those of Catharine
when seen close than when viewed from a distance, produced,
nevertheless, such a confusion in Roland's mind, that he became
uncertain whether he was not still under a mistake from the beginning;
the knowing shrewdness which should have animated his visage faded
into a sheepish bashfulness, and the half-suppressed but most
intelligible smile, became the senseless giggle of one who laughs to
cover his own disorder of ideas.
"Do they understand a Scotch tongue in thy country, Holly-top?" said
this marvellous specimen of metamorphosis. "I said I would speak with
thee."
"What is your business with my comrade, my young chick of the game?"
said Adam Woodcock, willing to step in to his companion's assistance,
though totally at a loss to account for the sudden disappearance of
all Roland's usual smartness and presence of mind.
"Nothing to you, my old cock of the perch," replied the gallant; "go
mind your hawk's castings. I guess by your bag and your gauntlet that
you are squire of the body to a sort of kites."
He laughed as he spoke, and the laugh reminded Roland so irresistibly
of the hearty fit of risibility, in which Catherine had indulged at
his expense when they first met in the old nunnery, that he could
scarce help exclaiming, "Catherine Seyton, by Heavens!"--He checked
the exclamation, however, and only said, "I think, sir, we two are not
totally strangers to each other.
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