“I havena been sulkin’, my lord,” answered Malcolm. “Yer lordship tauld me to haud oot o’ the gait till I was fit to be seen, an’ no a sowl has set an ee upo’ me till this verra moment ’at yer lordship has me in yer ain.”
“Where have you been then?”
“I’ my ain room at nicht, an’ doon at my gran’father’s as lang ’s fowk was aboot—wi’ a bit dauner (stroll) up the burn i’ the mirk.”
“You couldn’t encounter the shame of being seen with such a face —eh?”
“It micht ha’ been thoucht a disgrace to the tane or the tither o’ ’s, my lord—maybe to baith.”
“If you don’t learn to curb that tongue of yours, it will bring you to worse.”
“My lord, I confessed my faut, and I pat up wi’ the blow. But if it hadna been that I was i’ the wrang—weel, things micht hae differt.”
“Hold your tongue, I tell you. You’re an honest, good fellow, and I’m sorry I struck you. There!”
“I thank yer lordship.”
“I sent for you because I’ve just heard from Aberdeen that the boat is on her way round. You must be ready to take charge of her the moment she arrives.”