--'Lord love your handsome face,
Madam Nosebag, is it you? Why, if a poor fellow does happen to fire a
slug of a morning, I am sure you were never the lady to bring him to
harm.'
'Well, you rascallion, go, mind your duty; this gentleman and I belong
to the service; but be sure you look after that shy cock in the slouched
hat that sits in the corner of the coach. I believe he's one of the
rebels in disguise.'
'D--n her gooseberry wig!' said the corporal, when she was out of
hearing. 'That gimlet-eyed jade--mother adjutant, as we call her--is a
greater plague to the regiment than prevot-marshal, sergeant-major,
and old Hubble-de-Shuff the colonel into the bargain.--Come, Master
Constable, let's see if this shy cock, as she calls him' (who, by the
way, was a Quaker from Leeds, with whom Mrs. Nosebag had had some tart
argument on the legality of bearing arms), 'will stand godfather to a
sup of brandy, for your Yorkshire ale is cold on my stomach.'
The vivacity of this good lady, as it helped Edward out of this scrape,
was like to have drawn him into one or two others. In every town where
they stopped, she wished to examine the CORPS DE GARDE, if there
was one, and once very narrowly missed introducing Waverley to a
recruiting-sergeant of his own regiment.
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