Castle Gay - MVK World

Craw's bones are to be picked it will be me that has the picking of them,
and not those London corbies."
But this truculence did not represent Dougal's true mind, which
presently became apparent to his companion as they bumped their way
among the heather bushes and flood-gravel which composed the upper
part of the Garroch road. He was undeniably excited. He was a subaltern
officer in a great army, and now he had been brought face to face with
the general-in-chief. However ill he might think of that general, there
was romance in the sudden juxtaposition, something to set the heart
beating and to fire the fancy. Dougal regarded Mr Craw much as a stalwart
republican might look on a legitimate but ineffectual monarch; yet
the stoutest republican is not proof against an innocent snobbery and
will hurry to a street corner to see the monarch pass. Moreover, this
general-in-chief was in difficulties; his immediate comfort depended
upon the humble subaltern. So Dougal was in an excited mood and inclined
to babble. He was determined to do his best for his chief, but he
tried to salve his self-respect by a critical aloofness.
"What do you think of the great Craw?" he asked Jaikie.
"He seems a pleasant fellow," was the answer.
"Oh, he's soft-spoken enough. He has the good manners of one accustomed
to having his own way. But, man, to hear him talk was just like
hearing a grandfather-clock ticking. He's one mass of artifice."
Dougal proceeded to a dissection of Mr Craw's mind which caused
him considerable satisfaction. He proved beyond question that the great
man had no brains of his own, but was only an echo, a repository for other
men's ideas. "A cistern, not a spring," was his conclusion. But he was a
little dashed by Jaikie, who listened patiently to the analysis, and then remarked
that he was talking rubbish.
"If a man does as much in the world as Craw, and makes himself as
important, it's nonsense to say he has no brains. He must have plenty,
though they may not be the kind you like. You know very well, Dougal,
that you're mightily pleased to have the chance of doing the great man a
favour. And maybe rather flattered."
The other did not reply for a moment. "Perhaps I am," he said at
length. "We're all snobs in a way—all but you. You're the only true
democrat I know. What's the phrase—'Fellow to a beggar and brother to
a king, if he be found worthy'? It's no credit to you—it's just the way
you're made."
After that it was impossible to get a word out of Jaikie, and even Dougal
drifted by way of monosyllables into silence, for the place and the
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