“So this is where Scotland’s Bard lives,” remarked Mr. Mackenzie, looking about the room critically. “This cheerless hut, which bespeaks naught but poverty. Poor Burns, I pity him.”
“’Tis all his own fault,” testily replied his companion.
“I am not so sure of that, Sir William,” said Mr. Mackenzie with a swift look at him. “I have always believed and maintained that Burns was innocent of that monstrous charge my Lady Glencairn brought against him, even though you did confess to being an eye witness of the occurrence. However, she has received her just deserts. She is at last totally ostracized.”
“Do ye mean to say——” sputtered Sir William.
Mr. Mackenzie raised his hand in a stately gesture. “I really do not care to discuss it, Sir William. But at last Edinburgh is beginning to realize how cruelly they have misjudged him, and they would welcome him back again, but I fear his pride and independence will prevent his accepting any assistance whatever.”
Sir William gave a snort of impatience. “I cannot waste my sympathy on him,” he said angrily. “I am dispatched here to do my duty, and I must do it,” and his mouth set in a straight, determined line.
“’Tis a duty that for once is uncommon pleasant to you,” replied Mackenzie sarcastically. There was silence for a moment, then he continued, “I take it, the decision of the Board is final?” he asked.
“Aye, ’tis irrevocable, sir,” replied Sir William gruffly.