Ronald had an opportunity of being dignified towards Mr. Callum long before the rent-day came round. The steward’s curiosity led him to visit the tenants and see how they were attempting to improve their croft; and one day in October his boat was seen rounding the Storr, and making for the landing-place. Archie happened to be amusing himself on his island at the time, and Mr. Callum was observed by Ella to turn round as if watching the boy’s proceedings up to the moment of landing. He looked by no means in his pleasantest mood.
“Good morning,” said he, as Ella awaited him at the door of the cottage. “Where are your brothers? I want your brothers.”
“Ronald is in the field. I will call him, if you will please to sit down. He will not detain you.”
“Let him alone, pray. The other lads will do as well.”
“Fergus is gone a trip to-day to sell his peat; we do not expect him till night.”
“To sell his peat! He had better take care of his own supply first, I think. You will want to use all you can get before the winter is over.”
Ella replied by opening a boarded window on one side of the cottage, through which was seen, at a little distance, a large well-built stack of peat. She next added some to her fire, that Mr. Callum might not have to complain that she grudged fuel in her hospitality.
“And pray how does Fergus manage to get peat enough for everybody? He keeps within his boundary, I hope.”
Ella was too much offended to answer otherwise than by pointing the way to the peat-land, where, however, the steward showed no inclination to go.
“I would have him take care what he is about,” continued Callum. “I have the laird’s strict orders that the live turf is to be replaced over every inch from which peat is dug.”