's the end o' the auld ballant," went on the
little man. "I've kept auld Doom in times o' rowth and splendour,
and noo I'm spared to see't rouped, the laird a dyvour and a nameless
wanderer ower the face o' the earth. He's gaun abroad, he tells me, and
settles to sit doon aboot Dunkerque in France. It's but fair, maybe, that
whaur his forbears squandered he should gang wi' the little that's to
the fore. I mind o' his faither gaun awa at the last hoved up, a fair
Jeshurun, his een like to loup oot o' his heid wi' fat, and comin'
back a pooked craw frae the dicing and the drink, nae doot amoung the
scatter-brained white cockades. Whatna shilpit man's this that Leevie's
gotten for her new jo? As if I dinna see through them! The tawpie's taen
the gee at the Factor because he played yon ploy wi' his lads frae the
Maltland barracks, and this Frenchy's ower the lugs in love wi' her, I
can see as plain as Cowal, though it's a shameless thing to say't. He's
gotten gey far ben in a michty short time. Ye're aye saying them that
come unsent for should sit unserved; but wha sent for this billy oot o'
France? and wha has been sae coothered up as he has since he cam' here?
The Baron doesnae ken the shifts that you and me's been put to for to
save his repitation. Mony a lee I tauld doon there i' the clachan to
soother them oot o' butter and milk and eggs, and a bit hen at times;
mony a time I hae gie'n my ain dinner to thae gangrel bodies frae
Glencro sooner nor hae them think there was nae rowth o' vivers whaur
they never wer sent awa empty-haunded afore. I aye keepit my he'rt up
wi' the notion that him doon-bye the coat belangs to wad hae made a
match o't, and saved us a' frae beggary. But there's an end o' that,
sorry am I. And sorry may you be; ye auld runt, to hear't, for he's
been the guid enough friend to me; and there wad never hae been the Red
Sodger Tavern for us if it wasnae for his interest in a man that has aye
kep' up the airmy."

Annapla seemed to find the dialect of Fife most pleasing and melodious.
She listened to his monologue with approving smiles, and sitting on a
stool, cowered within the arch, warming her hands at the apology for a
flame.

"Wha the deevil could hae tauld her it was the lad himsel' was here that
nicht wi' his desperate chiels frae the barracks? It couldna' be you,
for I didna' tell ye mysel' for fear ye wad bluitter it oot and spoil
his chances. She kent onyway, and it was for no ither reason she