e
window; for in his amusement at the scene, the old man forgot the sick
boy and all about him, and only thought of the ridiculous interview he
had witnessed.

"His ain father--his ain father!" muttered Sir Archy, as with his
brows contracted and his hands clasped behind his back, he ruminated in
sadness on all he saw. "What brings ye back again, ye lazy scoundrels?
How dare ye venture in here again?"

This not over-courteous interrogatory was addressed to poor Terry the
Woods, who, followed by one of Sir Marmaduke's footmen, had at that
instant entered the yard.

"What for, are ye come, I say? and what's the flunkie wanting beside
ye?"

Terry stood thunderstruck at the sudden outbreak of temper, and turned
at once to the responsible individual, to whom he merely acted as guide,
to make a reply.

"And are ye tramping it too?" said M'Nab, with a sneering accent as he
addressed the footman. "Methinks ye might hae a meal's meat out o'
the goold lace on your hat, and look mair like a decent Christian
afterwards. Ye'r out of place maybe."

These last words were delivered in an irony, to which a tone of
incredulity gave all the sting; and these only were intelligible to the
sleek and well-fed individual to whom they were addressed.

In all likelihood, had he been charged with felony or highway robbery,
his self-respect might have sustained his equanimity; any common
infraction of the statute-law might have been alleged against him
without exciting an undue indignation; but the contemptuous insinuation
of being "out of place"--that domestic outlawry, was more than human
endurance could stomach; nor was the insult more palatable coming from
one he believed to be a servant himself. It was therefore with the true
feeling of outraged dignity he replied--

"Not exactly out of place jest now, friend; though, if they don't treat
you better than your looks show, I'd recommend you trying for a new
situation."

Of a verity, Sir Archibald's temper was destined to sore trials that
morning; but this was a home thrust, for which no forethought could have
prepared him.

"I hope I am no' going to lose my senses," said he, as he pressed his
hands on either side of his temples. "May the Lord keep me from that
worst of a' human calamities."

This pious wish, uttered with real, unfeigned fervency, seemed to act
like a charm upon the old man's temper, as though the very appeal had
suggested a calmer and more patient frame of mind.