He then called Cosmo and Agnes, who were talking together in a low voice at the other end of the kitchen, and taking them to Grizzie in the spare room, told them to help her, that she might the sooner come and get the supper ready.
"I am afraid, my lord," he said, returning, "we are but poorly provided for such guests as your lordship, but we will do what we can." "A horrible country!" growled his lordship; "but look you, I don't want jaw--I want drink." "What drink would your lordship have?
If it be in my power--" "I doubt, for all your talk, if you've got anything but your miserable whisky!" interrupted Lord Mergwain.
Now the laird had some remnants of old wine in the once well stored cellar, and, thankless as his visitor seemed likely to turn out, his hospitality would not allow him to withhold what he had.
"I have a few bottles of claret," he said, "-- if it should not be over-old!--I do not understand much about wine myself." "Let's have it up," cried his lordship.

"We'll see.

If you don't know good wine, I do.

I'm old enough for any wine." The laird would have had more confidence in recommending his port, which he had been told was as fine as any in Scotland, but he thought claret safer for one in his lordship's condition--one who having drunk would drink again.

He went therefore to the wine cellar, which had once been the dungeon of the castle, and brought thence a most respectable-looking magnum, dirty as a burrowing terrier, and to the eye of the imagination hoary with age.