Craigie was a sort of gambling acquaintance; he saw my condition, and, as the devil is always at one's elbow, told me fifty lies about his credentials from Versailles, and his interest at Saint Germains, promised me a captain's commission at Paris, and I have been ass enough to put my thumb under his belt.

I dare say, by this time, he has told a dozen pretty stories of me to the government.

And this is what I have got by wine, women, and dice, cocks, dogs, and horses." "Yes, Bucklaw," said the Master, "you have indeed nourished in your bosom the snakes that are now stinging you." "That's home as well as true, Master," replied his companion; "but, by your leave, you have nursed in your bosom one great goodly snake that has swallowed all the rest, and is as sure to devour you as my half-dozen are to make a meal on all that's left of Bucklaw, which is but what lies between bonnet and boot-heel." "I must not," answered the Master of Ravenswood, "challenge the freedom of speech in which I have set example.

What, to speak without a metaphor, do you call this monstrous passion which you charge me with fostering ?" "Revenge, my good sir--revenge; which, if it be as gentle manlike a sin as wine and wassail, with their et coeteras, is equally unchristian, and not so bloodless.

It is better breaking a park-pale to watch a doe or damsel than to shoot an old man." "I deny the purpose," said the Master of Ravenswood.