That instant he went staggering back to the wall of the lodge, with the gate after him.
“Stick to the wa’ there,” said Malcolm, as he strode in.
The keeper pursued him with frantic abuse, but he never turned his head. Arrived at the House, he committed the volume to the cook, with a brief account of where he had picked it up, begging her to inquire whether it belonged to the House. The cook sent a maid with it to Lady Florimel, and Malcolm waited until she returned—with thanks and a half-crown. He took the money, and returned by the upper gate through the town.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE ACCUSATION.
The next morning, soon after their early breakfast, the gatekeeper stood in the door of Duncan MacPhail’s cottage, with a verbal summons for Malcolm to appear before his lordship.
“An’ I’m no to lowse sicht o’ ye till ye hae put in yer appearance,” he added; “sae gien ye dinna come peaceable, I maun gar ye.”
“Whaur’s yer warrant?” asked Malcolm coolly.
“Ye wad hae the impidence to deman’ my warrant, ye yoong sorner!” cried Bykes indignantly. “Come yer wa’s, my man, or I s’ gar ye smairt for ’t”
“Haud a quaiet sough, an’ gang hame for yer warrant,” said Malcolm. “It’s lyin’ there, doobtless, or ye wadna hae daured to shaw yer face on sic an eeran’.”
Duncan, who was dozing in his chair, awoke at the sound of high words. His jealous affection perceived at once that Malcolm was being insulted. He sprang to his feet, stepped swiftly to the wall, caught down his broadsword, and rushed to the door, making the huge weapon quiver and whir about his head as if it had been a slip of tin-plate.