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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Malcolm"

"
"Are you sure?"
"As sure's death, my lord."
The marquis tried the door and found it immovable. "You say she
had the key?"
"No, my lord: I said she had keys, but whether she had the key, I
doobt if she kent hersel'. It may ha' been ane o' the bundle yet
to try."
"You're a sharp fellow," said the marquis. "I wish I had such a
servant about me."
"I wad mak a some rouch ane, I doobt," returned Malcolm, laughing.
His lordship was of another mind, but pursued the subject no farther.
"I have a vague recollection," he said, "of some room in the house
having an old story or legend connected with it. I must find out.
I daresay Mrs Courthope knows. Meantime you hold your tongue. We
may get some amusement out of this."
"I wull, my lord, like a deid man an' beeryt."
"You can--can you?"
"I can, my lord."
"You're a rare one!" said the marquis.
Malcolm thought he was making game of him as heretofore, and held
his peace.
"You can go home now," said his lordship. "I will see to this
affair."
"But jist be canny middlin' wi' Mistress Catanach, my lord: she's
no mowse."
"What! you're not afraid of an old woman?"
"Deil a bit, my lord!--that is, I'm no feart at a dogfish or a
rottan, but I wud tak tent an' grip them the richt gait, for they
hae teeth. Some fowk think Mistress Catanach has mair teeth nor
she shaws."
"Well, if she's too much for me, I'll send for you," said the
marquis good humouredly.
"Ye canna get me sae easy, my lord: we're efter the herrin' noo.


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