“I have a design upon him too,” returned the marquis. “They’re building a little yacht for me—a pleasure-boat, you understand —at Aberdeen, and I want Malcolm to be skipper. But he is such a useful fellow, and so thoroughly to be depended upon, that I should prefer his having a room in the house. I should like to know he was within call any moment I might want him.”
Duncan did not clutch at the proposal. He was silent so long that the marquis spoke again.
“You do not quite seem to like the plan, Mr MacPhail,” he said.
“If aal wass here as it used to wass in ta Highlants, my lort,” said Duncan, “when efery clansman wass son or prother or father to his chief, tat would pe tifferent; put my poy must not co and eat with serfants who haf nothing put teir waches to make tem love and opey your lortship. If her poy serfs another man, it must pe pecause he loves him, and looks upon him as his chief, who will shake haands with him and take ta father’s care of him; and her poy must tie for him when ta time comes.”
Even a feudal lord cannot be expected to have sympathized with such grand patriarchal ideas; they were much too like those of the kingdom of heaven; and feudalism itself had by this time crumbled away—not indeed into monthly, but into half-yearly wages. The marquis, notwithstanding, was touched by the old man’s words, matter-of-fact as his reply must sound after them.
“I would make any arrangements you or he might wish,” he said. “He should take his meals with Mrs Courthope, have a bedroom to himself, and be required only to look after the yacht, and now and then do some bit of business I couldn’t trust any one else with.”
The highlander’s pride was nearly satisfied.
“So,” he said, “it’ll pe his own henchman my lort will pe making of her poy?”
“Something like that. We’ll see how it goes. If he doesn’t like it, he can drop it. It’s more that I want to have him about me than anything else. I want to do something for him when I have a chance. I like him.”
“My lort will pe toing ta laad a creat honour,” said Duncan. “Put,” he added, with a sigh, “she’ll pe lonely, her nainsel!”