As he turned from him, he saw Caley gliding through the little group of servants towards the door. He walked after her, laid his hand on her shoulder, and whispered a word in her ear, she grew gray rather than white, and stood still.
Turning again to go to Florimel, he saw the fishermen stopped with their charge in the doorway by Mr Morrison and Mr Soutar, entering together.
“My lord! my lord!” said the lawyer, coming hastily up to him, “there can be surely no occasion for such—such—measures!”
Catching sight of Malcolm’s wounded forehead, however, he supplemented the remark with a low exclamation of astonishment and dismay— the tone saying almost as clearly as words, “How ill and foolishly everything is managed without a lawyer!”
Malcolm only smiled, and went up to the magistrate, whom he led into the middle of the room, saying,
“Mr Morrison, every one here knows you: tell them who I am.”
“The Marquis of Lossie, my lord,” answered Mr Morrison; “and from my heart I congratulate your people that at length you assume the rights and honours of your position.”
A murmur of pleasure arose in response. Ere it ceased, Malcolm started and sprung to the door. There stood Lenorme! He seized him by the arm, and, without a word of explanation, hurried him to the room where his sister was. He called Clementina, drew her from the room, half pushed Lenorme in, and closed the door.
“Will you meet me on the sand-hill at sunset, my lady?” he said.
She smiled assent. He gave her the key of the tunnel, hinted that she might leave the two to themselves for awhile, and returned to his friends in the drawing-room.