“In a business way, yes,” said Walter.
“There’s a little girl that is living there, that I know slightly,” said Ian.
“What, Mistress Aline Gillespie! the bonniest child I ever saw in my life. I shall never forget that child, although I have only seen her once. ’Sdeath, man, she has the face of an angel and the soul of one too, beshrew me if she has not.”
“Well, she comes from my country, although I cannot say that I have any extended acquaintance with her any more than you have.”
“I am sorry for that bairn,” said Walter, lowering his voice and looking round; “she has none too happy a time with the Mowbrays. But there, it may be gossip,” he continued, as the thought occurred to him that he was not sure of his listener. “One hears such funny tales as one goes about the country; one does not know what to believe.”
“You are going that way again then?” said Ian.
“Yes, yes, and perchance if you know the child, you would like me to tell her that I had seen you.”
“May be so; and I might send her one of your trinkets. I saw a little buckle that might take her fancy.”
Walter got up and fetched the bundle and produced the buckle. “Honestly, man,” he said, “that is a more expensive class of thing than most of my stuff; but I will let you have it cheap. Yes, really cheap; I know you think I always talk like that, but I swear I am speaking true.”
There was an earnestness in the man’s tone and manner that was quite unlike his usual jaunty way of talking and Ian felt he might venture to say more.