Greenlaw untied his horse.
"I hope that we're not facing another 'fifteen! _'Scotland's ain
Stewarts, and Break the Union!'_ It sounds well, but it's not in the
line of progression. What does Captain Ian Rullock think about it?"
"I don't know. He hasn't been here, you know, for a long while."
"That's true. He and Mr. Alexander are still like brothers?"
"Like brothers."
Greenlaw mounted his horse. "Well, he's a bonny man, but he's got a
piece of the demon in him! So have I, I ken very well, and so,
doubtless, has he who will be Glenfernie, and all the rest of us--"
"I sit down to supper with mine very often," said Strickland.
"Oh yes, he's common--the demon! But somehow I could find him in Ian
Rullock, though all covered up with gold. But doubtless," said
Greenlaw, debonairly, "it would be the much of the fellow in me that
would recognize much in another!" He put his gray into motion. "Good
day, sir!" He was gone, disappearing down the long street, into the
snow that was now falling like a veil.
Strickland turned homeward. The snow fell fast and thick in large
white flakes. Glenfernie House rose before him, crowning the craggy
hill, the modern building and the remnant of the old castle, not a
great place, but an ancient, settled, and rooted, part of a land poor
but not without grandeur, not without a rhythm attained between
grandeur and homeliness.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82