David pondered, but asked no questions, and Mrs. Bremner volunteered no information.
Kirsty of course heard the rumour, but she never took much interest in the goings on at the castle. Mrs. Gordon’s doings were not such as the angels desire to look into; and Kirsty, not distantly related to them, and inheriting a good many of their peculiarities, minded her own business.
CHAPTER XXXII
IN THE WORKSHOP
One night in the month of January, when the snow was falling thick, but the air, because of the cloud-blankets overhead, was not piercing, Kirsty went out to the workshop to tell her father that supper was ready. David was a Jack-of-all-trades—therein resembling a sailor rather than a soldier, and by the light of a single dip was busy with some bit of carpenter’s work.
He did not raise his head when she entered, and heard her as if he did not hear. She wondered a little and waited. After a few moments of silence, he said quietly, without looking up—
‘Are ye awaur o’ onything by ord’nar, Kirsty?’
‘Na, naething, father,’ answered Kirsty, wondering still.
‘It’s been beirin ’tsel in upo’ me at my bench here, ’at Steenie’s aboot the place the nicht. I canna help imaiginin he’s been upo’ this verra flure ower and ower again sin’ I cam oot, as gien he wad fain say something, but cudna, and gaed awa again.’
‘Think ye he’s here at this moment, father?’
‘Na, he’s no.’