Sae I could see little or naething
o' her, or I wad hae had the truth o' her situation out o' her, I'se
warrant ye--But we a' think her sister maun be able to speak something to
clear her."
"The haill Parliament House," said Saddletree, "was speaking o' naething
else, till this job o' Porteous's put it out o' head--It's a beautiful
point of presumptive murder, and there's been nane like it in the
Justiciar Court since the case of Luckie Smith the howdie, that suffered
in the year saxteen hundred and seventy-nine."
"But what's the matter wi' you, Mr. Butler?" said the good woman; "ye are
looking as white as a sheet; will ye tak a dram?"
"By no means," said Butler, compelling himself to speak. "I walked in
from Dumfries yesterday, and this is a warm day."
"Sit down," said Mrs. Saddletree, laying hands on him kindly, "and rest
ye--yell kill yoursell, man, at that rate.--And are we to wish you joy o'
getting the scule, Mr. Butler?"
"Yes--no--I do not know," answered the young man vaguely. But Mrs.
Saddletree kept him to point, partly out of real interest, partly from
curiosity.
"Ye dinna ken whether ye are to get the free scule o' Dumfries or no,
after hinging on and teaching it a' the simmer?"
"No, Mrs. Saddletree--I am not to have it," replied Butler, more
collectedly. "The Laird of Black-at-the-Bane had a natural son bred to
the kirk, that the Presbytery could not be prevailed upon to license; and
so"
"Ay, ye need say nae mair about it; if there was a laird that had a puir
kinsman or a bastard that it wad suit, there's enough said.
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