"
Duncan yielded, for the sake of better instruction in the circumstances;
over the whole of which Malcolm now went. But before he came to a
close, he had skilfully introduced and enlarged upon the sorrows
and sufferings and dangers of the laird, so as to lead the old
man away from the quarrel, dwelling especially on the necessity of
protecting Mr Stewart from the machinations of his mother. Duncan
listened to all he said with marked sympathy.
"An' gien the markis daur to cross me in 't," said Malcolm at last,
as he ended, "lat him leuk till himsel', for it's no at a buffet
or twa I wad stick, gien the puir laird was intill 't."
This assurance, indicative of a full courageous intent on the part
of his grandson, for whose manliness he was jealous, greatly served
to quiet Duncan; and he consented at last to postpone all quittance,
in the hope of Malcolm's having the opportunity of a righteous
quarrel for proving himself no coward. His wrath gradually died
away, until at last he begged his boy to take his pipes, that he
might give him a lesson. Malcolm made the attempt, but found it
impossible to fill the bag with his swollen and cut lips, and had
to beg his grandfather to play to him instead. He gladly consented,
and played until bedtime; when, having tucked him up, Malcolm
went quietly to his own room, avoiding supper and the eyes of Mrs
Courthope together. He fell asleep in a moment, and spent a night
of perfect oblivion, dreamless of wizard lord or witch lady.
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