“He could tell me then what’s going to become of me?”
“As weel ’s ony man, my lord.”
“That’s not saying much, I fear.”
“Maybe mair nor ye think, my lord.”
“Well, take him my compliments, and tell him I should like to see him,” said the marquis, after a pause.
“He’ll come direckly, my lord.”
“Of course he will!” said the marquis.
“Jist as readily, my lord, as he wad gang to ony tramp ’at sent for ’im at sic a time,” returned Malcolm, who did not relish either the remark or its tone.
“What do you mean by that? You don’t think it such a serious affair —do you?”
“My lord, ye haena a chance.”