k yard."

As Donal went through the house to the yard, he passed the door of a
room where some of the townsfolk sat, and heard the earl mentioned.

He had not asked Andrew anything about the young man he had spoken
with; for he understood that his host held himself not at liberty to
talk about the family in which his granddaughter was a servant. But
what was said in public he surely might hear! He requested the
landlord to let him have a bottle of ale, and went into the room and
sat down.

It was a decent parlour with a sanded floor. Those assembled were a
mixed company from town and country, having a tumbler of whisky-toddy
together after the market. One of them was a stranger who had been
receiving from the others various pieces of information concerning the
town and its neighbourhood.

"I min' the auld man weel," a wrinkled gray-haired man was saying as
Donal entered, "--a varra different man frae this present. He wud sit
doon as ready as no--that wud he--wi' ony puir body like mysel', an'
gie him his cracks, an' hear his news, an' drink his glaiss, an' mak
naething o' 't. But this man, haith! wha ever saw him cheenge word wi'
brither man?"

"I never h'ard hoo he came to the teetle: they say he was but some far
awa' cousin!" remarked a farmer-looking man, florid and stout.

"Hoots! he was ain brither to the last yerl, wi' richt to the teetle,
though nane to the property. That he's but takin' care o' till his
niece come o' age. He was a heap aboot the place afore his brither
dee'd, an' they war freen's as weel 's brithers. They say 'at the lady
Arctoora--h'ard ye ever sic a hathenish name for a lass!--is b'un' to
merry the yoong lord. There 's a sicht o' clapper-clash aboot the
place, an' the fowk, an' their strange w'ys. They tell me nane can be
said to ken the yerl but his ain man. For mysel' I never cam i' their
coonsel--no' even to the buyin' or sellin' o' a lamb."

"Weel," said a fair-haired, pale-faced man, "we ken frae scriptur 'at
the sins o' the fathers is veesitit upo' the children to the third an'
fourth generation--an' wha can tell?"

"Wha can tell," rejoined another, who had a judicial look about him, in
spite of an unshaven beard, and a certain general disregard to
appearances, "wha can tell but the sins o' oor faithers may be lyin'
upo' some o' oorsel's at this varra moment?"

"In oor case, I canna see the thing wad be fair," said a fifth: "we
dinna even ken what they did!"

"We'