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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Malcolm"

I will go and see, or
rather hear, what they are about: after that I shall be in a position
to judge."
"Your lordship's presence will put them on their guard."
"If the mere sight of me is a check," returned the marquis, "extreme
measures will hardly be necessary."
He spoke definitively, and made a slight movement, which his visitor
accepted as his dismissal. He laughed aloud when the door closed,
for the spirit of what the Germans call Schadenfreude was never
far from his elbow, and he rejoiced in the parson's discomfiture.
It was in virtue of his simplicity, precluding discomfiture, that
Malcolm could hold his own with him so well. For him he now sent.
"Well, MacPhail," he said kindly, as the youth entered, "how is
that foot of yours getting on?"
"Brawly, my lord; there's naething muckle the maitter wi' hit or
me aither, noo 'at we're up. But I was jist nearhan' deid o' ower
muckle bed."
"Had n't you better come down out of that cockloft?" said the
marquis, dropping his eyes.
"Na, my lord; I dinna care aboot pairtin' wi' my neebour yet."
"What neighbour?"
"Ow, the auld warlock, or whatever it may be 'at hauds a reemish
(romage) there."
"What! is he troublesome next?
"Ow, na! I'm no thinkin' 't; but 'deed I dinna ken, my lord!" said
Malcolm.
"What do you mean, then?"
"Gien yer lordship wad aloo me to force yon door, I wad be better
able to tell ye."
"Then the old man is not quiet?"
"There's something no quaiet.


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