[Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott]@TWC D-Link book
Rob Roy

CHAPTER SEVENTH
7/13

Thornie shall be my sergeant-major, Dickon my riding-master, and Wilfred, with his deep dub-a-dub tones, that speak but three syllables at a time, my kettle-drummer." "And Rashleigh ?" "Rashleigh shall be my scout-master." "And will you find no employment for me, most lovely colonel ?" "You shall have the choice of being pay-master, or plunder-master, to the corps.

But see how the dogs puzzle about there.

Come, Mr.Frank, the scent's cold; they won't recover it there this while; follow me, I have a view to show you." And in fact, she cantered up to the top of a gentle hill, commanding an extensive prospect.

Casting her eyes around, to see that no one was near us, she drew up her horse beneath a few birch-trees, which screened us from the rest of the hunting-field--"Do you see yon peaked, brown, heathy hill, having something like a whitish speck upon the side ?" "Terminating that long ridge of broken moorish uplands ?--I see it distinctly." "That whitish speck is a rock called Hawkesmore-crag, and Hawkesmore-crag is in Scotland." "Indeed! I did not think we had been so near Scotland." "It is so, I assure you, and your horse will carry you there in two hours." "I shall hardly give him the trouble; why, the distance must be eighteen miles as the crow flies." "You may have my mare, if you think her less blown--I say, that in two hours you may be in Scotland." "And I say, that I have so little desire to be there, that if my horse's head were over the Border, I would not give his tail the trouble of following.

What should I do in Scotland ?" "Provide for your safety, if I must speak plainly.


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