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

CHAPTER THIRD
10/11

Pray, what may that portmanteau of yours weigh ?" "My p-p-portmanteau ?" replied he, hesitating--"O very little--a feather--just a few shirts and stockings." "I should think it heavier, from its appearance.

I'll hold you the quart of claret it makes the odds betwixt our weight." "You're mistaken, sir, I assure you--quite mistaken," replied my friend, edging off to the side of the road, as was his wont on these alarming occasions.
"Well, I am willing to venture the wine; or, I will bet you ten pieces to five, that I carry your portmanteau on my croupe, and out-trot you into the bargain." This proposal raised my friend's alarm to the uttermost.

His nose changed from the natural copper hue which it had acquired from many a comfortable cup of claret or sack, into a palish brassy tint, and his teeth chattered with apprehension at the unveiled audacity of my proposal, which seemed to place the barefaced plunderer before him in full atrocity.

As he faltered for an answer, I relieved him in some degree by a question concerning a steeple, which now became visible, and an observation that we were now so near the village as to run no risk from interruption on the road.

At this his countenance cleared up: but I easily perceived that it was long ere he forgot a proposal which seemed to him so fraught with suspicion as that which I had now hazarded.


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