Grizel, that came when the
leddy died? Wad--"
Strickland smiled. "You must just come up to the house, Mrs. Macmurdo,
and have a talk with Mrs. Grizel.--I hope the laird may last the
week."
"You're a close ane!" thought the disappointed Mrs. Macmurdo. Aloud
she said, "Aweel, sir, Mr. Alexander that will be laird is coming hame
frae foreign parts?"
"Yes."
"Sic a wanderer as he has been! But there!" said Mrs. Macmurdo, "ony
that saw him when he was a laddie gaeing here and gaeing there by his
lane-some, glen and brae and muir, might ha' said, 'Ye're a
wanderer--and as sune as ye may ye'll wander farther!'"
"You're quite right, Mrs. Macmurdo," said Strickland, and took his
parcel from her.
"A wanderer and a seeker!" Mrs. Macmurdo was loth to let him go. "And
his great friend is still Captain Ian Rullock?"
"Yes, still."
Mrs. Macmurdo reluctantly opened the shop door. "Aweel, sir, if ye
maun gae.--There'll be snaw the night, I'm thinking! Do ye stop at the
inn? There's twa-three sogers in town."
Strickland had not meant to stop. But, coming to the Jardine Arms and
glancing through the window, he saw by the light of the fire in the
common room four men in red coats sitting at table, drinking. He felt
jaded and depressed, needing distraction from the gray chill day and
the laird's dying. Curiosity faintly stretched herself.
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