“And he must live on here as a poor exciseman,” murmured Mackenzie half to himself. “Live! In sooth ’tis but an existence,” and he strode to the window in sudden perturbation and gazed thoughtfully out upon the untilled land.
The door of the chamber opened and Robert entered the room, a smile of pleasure lighting up his face. Mr. Mackenzie stepped eagerly forward and clasped his hand and shook it warmly.
“I am uncommon glad to see ye beneath my humble roof,” said Rob earnestly, “and that ye havena’ forgotten poor, hopeless Robert Burns.”
Mackenzie led him to a chair. “Indeed, I have not,” he replied brightly. “Believe me, Mr. Burns, when I say that I prize your friendship above that of all men I know.”
Robert was about to reply, when he caught sight of Sir William Creech watching them impatiently. He gave a great start and rose to his feet.
“Sir William Creech!” he said slowly and bitterly. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“I come on a matter of business,” replied Sir William, a flush rising to his cheek.
“What business can ye have with me noo?” asked Robert with rising anger. “Perjurer, have ye come to gloat over the man ye helped ruin by your iniquitous falsehood? It isna’ good news ye bring, I warrant ye, else ye would not be the bearer of it.” And he gave a scornful little laugh.
“Insulting as ever, Robert Burns,” snarled Sir William, a red spot of anger on each cheek, his eyes flashing wickedly. “Well, I’ll state my business briefly. Ye wrote to the Board of Commissioners for the position of supervisor in the excise. Your request has been voted on and was refused.” He spat the words out with vindictive satisfaction.