'I—I, the Master,' replied the weak voice of Allan Graham.
'You, sir—heaven be gude tae us! You sir! hoo in God's name cam' ye to be doon there?' cried Tappleton, in mingled joy, horror, and great perplexity.
'Summon help—there's a good old fellow; get me out, and then you will know all—quick, Tappleton, or—or I shall not last much longer,' replied Allan, faintly, and at intervals, in a voice so low that his last words seemed to die away, while Tappleton rushed off as fast as his years would permit, to seek Lord Aberfeldie and alarm the whole household, which he did very effectually by a sudden and furious application to the great house-bell, causing a very general idea of fire, and bringing all from their rooms in various kinds of déshabille at that early hour of the morning.
'The Master's found—the Master's found!' he kept shouting on every hand.
'Where—where?' asked twenty voices.
'Ay, ye may weel ask whar,' was the tantalizing response.
In the breast of Lord Aberfeldie and all his household incredulity at first, and then profound astonishment, reigned for a time on the butler making himself understood, and all hastened to the scene of his discovery.
'The Master—the Master down there,' muttered the servants, looking inquiringly in each other's faces. 'How came such a thing to pass?'
They jostled and impeded each other; but Lord Aberfeldie's authority and soldier-like promptitude soon defined a line of action.
'Lights—lights and ropes; look alive, men!' he exclaimed.