Aal is not well, my son."
"Weel, dinna distress yersel', daddy. Lat come what wull come.
Foreseein' 's no forefen'in'. Ye ken yersel' at mony 's the time the
seer has broucht the thing on by tryin' to haud it aff."
"It will be true, my son. Put it would aalways haf come."
"Nae doubt. Sae ye jist come in wi' me, daddy, an' sit doon by the ha'
fire, an' I'll come to ye as sune's I've been to see 'at the maister
disna want me. But ye'll better come up wi' me to my room first," he
went on, "for the maister disna like to see me in onything but the
kilt."
"And why will he not pe in ta kilts aal as now?"
"I hae been ridin', ye ken, daddy, an' the trews fits the saiddle
better nor the kilts."
"She'll not pe knowing tat. Old Allister, your creat--her own
crandfather, was ta pest horseman ta worlt efer saw, and he'll nefer
pe hafing ta trews to his own lecks nor ta saddle to his horse's pack.
He'll chust make his men pe strap on an old plaid, and he'll be kive
a chump, and away they wass, horse and man, one peast, aal two of tem
poth together."
Thus chatting, they went to the stable, and from the stable to the
house, where they met no one, and went straight up to Malcolm's room,
the old man making as little of the long ascent as Malcolm himself.
CHAPTER LXVI.
THE CRY FROM THE CHAMBER.
Brooding--if a man of his temperament may ever be said to brood--over
the sad history of his young wife and the prospects of his daughter,
the marquis rode over fields and through gates--he never had been one
to jump a fence in cold blood--till the darkness began to fall; and
the bearings of his perplexed position came plainly before him.
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