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The Lion of the North - A tale of the times of Gustavus Adolphus by G. A. (George Alfred) Henty
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purposes of defence, like most Scottish residences in those days.
The floor was thickly strewn with rushes. Arms and trophies of the
chase hung on the walls, and a bright fire blazing on the hearth
gave it a warm and cheerful aspect. As his guests entered the room
Graheme presented them with a large silver cup of steaming liquor.

"Drain this," he said, "to begin with. I will warrant me a draught
of spiced wine will drive the cold of the Nith out of your bones."

The travellers drank off the liquor.

"'Tis a famous drink," Hume said, "and there is nowhere I enjoy it
so much as in Scotland, for the cold here seems to have a knack of
getting into one's very marrow, though I will say there have been
times in the Low Countries when we have appreciated such a draught.
Well, and how goes it with you, Graheme?"

"Things might be better; in fact, times in Scotland have been getting
worse and worse ever since King James went to England, and all the
court with him. If it were not for an occasional raid among the
wild folks of Galloway, and a few quarrels among ourselves, life
would be too dull to bear here."

"But why bear it?" Captain Hume asked. "You used to have plenty
of spirit in our old college days, Graheme, and I wonder at your
rusting your life out here when there is a fair field and plenty of
honour, to say nothing of hard cash, to be won in the Low Country.
Why, beside Hepburn's regiment, which has made itself a name
throughout all Europe, there are half a score of Scottish regiments
in the service of the King of Sweden, and his gracious majesty
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