Caleb was calling for
grooms and lackeys, and would never have proceeded without two hours'
apology for the absence of men that were a hundred miles off. Get up,
Master; I say the hounds are out--get up, I say; the hunt is up." And
off ran Bucklaw.

"And I say," said the Master, rising slowly, "that nothing can concern
me less. Whose hounds come so near to us?"

"The Honourable Lord Brittlebrains's," answered Caleb, who had followed
the impatient Laird of Bucklaw into his master's bedroom, "and truly I
ken nae title they have to be yowling and howling within the freedoms
and immunities of your lordship's right of free forestry."

"Nor I, Caleb," replied Ravenswood, "excepting that they have bought
both the lands and the right of forestry, and may think themselves
entitled to exercise the rights they have paid their money for."

"It may be sae, my lord," replied Caleb; "but it's no gentleman's deed
of them to come here and exercise such-like right, and your lordship
living at your ain castle of Wolf's Crag. Lord Brittlebrains would weel
to remember what his folk have been."

"And what we now are," said the Master, with suppressed bitterness of
feeling. "But reach me my cloak, Caleb, and I will indulge Bucklaw with
a sight of this chase. It is selfish to sacrifice my guest's pleasure to
my own."

"Sacrifice!" echoed Caleb, in a tone which seemed to imply the total
absurdity of his master making the least concession in deference to any
one--"sacrifice, indeed!--but I crave your honour's pardon, and whilk
doublet is it your pleasure to wear?"

"Any one you will, Caleb; my wardrobe, I suppose, is not very
extensive."

"Not extensive!" echoed his assistant; "when there is the grey and
silver that your lordship bestowed on Hew Hildebrand, your outrider;
and the French velvet that went with my lord your father--be gracious
to him!--my lord your father's auld wardrobe to the puir friends of the
family; and the drap-de-Berry----"

"Which I gave to you, Caleb, and which, I suppose, is the only dress we
have any chance to come at, except that I wore yesterday; pray, hand me
that, and say no more about it."

"If your honour has a fancy," replied Caleb, "and doubtless it's a
sad-coloured suit, and you are in mourning; nevertheless, I have never
tried on the drap-de-Berry--ill wad it become me--and your honour having
no change of claiths at this present--and it's weel brushed, and as
there are leddies down yonder----"