Mrs Catanach attempted a laugh of scorn, but her face was grey as putty, and its muscles declined response.
“Ay or no,” said Malcolm. “I winna gar ye sweir, for I wad lippen to yer aith no a hair.”
“Ay, my lord,” said the howdy, reassuming at least outward composure, and with it her natural brass, for as she spoke she held out her open palm.
“Na, na!” said Malcolm, “nae forehan’ payments! Three months o’ tongue-haudin’, an’ there’s yer five poun’; an’ Maister Soutar o’ Duff Harbour ’ill pay ’t intill yer ain han’. But brak troth wi’ me, an’ ye s’ hear o’ ’t; for gien ye war hangt, the warl’ wad be but the cleaner. Noo quit the hoose, an’ never lat me see ye aboot the place again. But afore ye gang, I gie ye fair warnin’ ’at I mean to win at a’ yer by-ganes.”
The blood of red wrath was seething in Mrs Catanach’s face; she drew herself up, and stood flaming before him, on the verge of explosion.
“Gang frae the hoose,” said Malcolm, “or I’ll set the muckle hun’ to shaw ye the gait.”
Her face turned the colour of ashes, and with hanging cheeks and scared but not the less wicked eyes, she turned from the room. Malcolm watched her out of the house, then following her into the town, brought Miss Horn back with him to aid in the last of earthly services, and hastened to Duncan’s cottage.
But to his amazement and distress, it was forsaken, and the hearth cold. In his attendance on his father, he had not seen the piper —he could not remember for how many days; and on inquiry he found that, although he had not been missed, no one could recall having seen him later than three or four days agone. The last he could hear of him in the neighbourhood was, that, about a week before, a boy had spied him sitting on a rock in the Baillies’ Barn, with his pipes in his lap. Searching the cottage, he found that his broadsword and dirk, with all his poor finery, were gone.
That same night Mrs Catanach also disappeared.
A week after, what was left of Lord Lossie was buried. Malcolm followed the hearse with the household. Miss Horn walked immediately behind him, on the arm of the schoolmaster. It was a great funeral, with a short road, for the body was laid in the church—close to the wall, just under the crusader with the Norman canopy.