As it was, he started at the sight of what he had not yet happened to
see, a mountaineer in his full national costume. The individual Gael was
a stout, dark, young man, of low stature, the ample folds of whose plaid
added to the appearance of strength which his person exhibited. The short
kilt, or petticoat, showed his sinewy and clean-made limbs; the goatskin
purse, flanked by the usual defences, a dirk and steel-wrought pistol,
hung before him; his bonnet had a short feather, which indicated his
claim to be treated as a duinhe-wassel, or sort of gentleman; a
broadsword dangled by his side, a target hung upon his shoulder, and a
long Spanish fowling-piece occupied one of his hands. With the other hand
he pulled off his bonnet, and the Baron, who well knew their customs, and
the proper mode of addressing them, immediately said, with an air of
dignity, but without rising, and much, as Edward thought, in the manner
of a prince receiving an embassy, 'Welcome, Evan Dhu Maccombich; what
news from Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich lan Vohr?'
'Fergus Mac-Ivor Vich lan Vohr,' said the ambassador, in good English,
'greets you well, Baron of Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, and is sorry
there has been a thick cloud interposed between you and him, which has
kept you from seeing and considering the friendship and alliances that
have been between your houses and forebears of old; and he prays you that
the cloud may pass away, and that things may be as they have been
heretofore between the clan Ivor and the house of Bradwardine, when there
was an egg between them for a flint and a knife for a sword.
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