Then Jock burst out into laughter inexplicable at first, but Allen made his voice gentler and graver, as he said, “You don’t mean Kilnaught?” and then he too joined Jock in laughter, as the latter cried—
“Another victim to McNab of Kilnaught! He certainly is the canniest of Scots.”
“He revenges the wrongs of Scotland on innocent young Guardsmen.”
“Well, I’m sure there could not be a more promising advertisement.”
“That’s just it!” said Jock. “Moor and moss. How many acres of heather?”
“How was I to expect a man of family to be a regular swindler?”
“Hush! hush, my dear fellow! Roderick Dhu was a man of family. It is the modern form.”
“But I saw his keeper.”
“Oh!” cried Allen. “I know! Old Rory! Tells you a long story in broad Scotch, of which you understand one word here and there about his Grace the Deuke, and how many miles—miles Scots—he walked.”
“I can see Evelyn listening, and saying ‘yes,’ at polite intervals!”