"If I have the fish by nine o'clock, that will be early enough,"
she returned.
"I wad na like to wait sae lang for my brakfast," remarked Malcolm.
"You wouldn't mind it much, if you waited asleep," said Mrs Courthope.
"Can onybody sleep till sic a time o' day as that?" exclaimed the
youth.
"You must remember my lord doesn't go to bed for hours after you,
Malcolm."
"An' what can keep him up a' that time? It's no as gien he war
efter the herrin', an' had the win' an' the watter an' the netfu's
o' waumlin craturs to baud him waukin'."
"Oh! he reads and writes, and sometimes goes walking about the
grounds after everybody else is in bed," said Mrs Courthope, "he
and his dog."
"Well, I wad rather be up ear'," said Malcolm; "a heap raither. I
like fine to be oot i' the quaiet o' the mornin' afore the sun's
up to set the din gaun; whan it's a' clear but no bricht--like
the back o' a bonny sawmon; an' air an' watter an' a' luiks as
gien they war waitin' for something--quaiet, verra quaiet, but
no content."
Malcolm uttered this long speech, and went on with more like it,
in the hope of affording time for the stormy waters of Duncan's
spirit to assuage. Nor was he disappointed; for, if there was a
sound on the earth Duncan loved to hear, it was the voice of his
boy; and by degrees the tempest sank to repose, the gathered glooms
melted from his countenance, and the sunlight of a smile broke out.
"Hear to him!" he cried.
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