“There is some glimmer of sense in what you
say,” returned his lordship. “But
you know it won’t do to let anybody that pleases
get over the park walls. Why didn’t you
go out at the gate?”
“The burn was atween me an’ hit, an’
it’s a lang road roon’.”
“Well, I must lay some penalty upon you, to
deter others,” said the marquis.
“Verra well, my lord. Sae lang ‘s
it’s fair, I s’ bide it ohn grutten (without
weeping).”
“It shan’t be too hard. It’s
just this—to give John Bykes the thrashing
he deserves, as soon as you’re out of sight of
the House.”
“Na, na, my lord; I canna do that,” said
Malcolm.
“So you’re afraid of him, after all!”
“Feared at Johnnie Bykes, my lord! Ha!
ha!”
“You threatened him a minute ago, and now, when
I give you leave to thrash him, you decline the honour!”
“The disgrace, my lord. He’s an aulder
man, an’ no abune half the size. But fegs!
gien he says anither word agen my gran’father,
I will gin ’s neck a bit thaw”
“Well, well, be off with you both,” said
the marquis rising.
No one heard the rustle of Lady Florimel’s dress
as she sped up the stair, thinking with herself how
very odd it was to have a secret with a fisherman;
for a secret it was, seeing the reticence of Malcolm
had been a relief to her; when she shrunk from what
seemed the imminent mention of her name in the affair
before the servants. She had even felt a touch
of mingled admiration and gratitude when she found
what a faithful squire he was—capable of
an absolute obstinacy indeed, where she was concerned.
For her own sake as well as his she was glad that
he had got off so well, for otherwise she would have
felt bound to tell her father the whole story, and
she was not at all so sure as Malcolm that he would
have been satisfied with his reasons, and would not
have been indignant with the fellow for presuming
even to be silent concerning his daughter. Indeed
Lady Florimel herself felt somewhat irritated with
him, as having brought her into the awkward situation
of sharing a secret with a youth of his position.
For a few days the weather was dull and unsettled,
with cold flaws, and an occasional sprinkle of rain.
But after came a still gray morning, warm and hopeful,
and ere noon the sun broke out, the mists vanished,
and the day was glorious in blue and gold. Malcolm
had been to Scaurnose, to see his friend Joseph Mair,
and was descending the steep path down the side of
the promontory, on his way home, when his keen eye
caught sight of a form on the slope of the dune which
could hardly be other than that of Lady Florimel.
She did not lift her eyes until he came quite near,
and then only to drop them again with no more recognition
than if he had been any other of the fishermen.
Already more than half inclined to pick a quarrel
with him, she fancied that, presuming upon their very
commonplace adventure and its resulting secret, he
approached her with an assurance he had never manifested
before, and her head was bent motionless over her
book when he stood and addressed her.
