“Aye, juist that! Ye see, Johnnie, it so happened the man was like tae dee!”
“To die, Hector? How so?”
“Why, the puir gentleman misjudged his distance, and my Andrew here took him a ding i’ the wame, Johnnie.”
“Aha, a duel, was it? When was this, Hector?”
“Twa-three years aboot, lad. So, bein’ a lone man and weary wi’ my wandering, y’ ken, I minded you, Johnnie, an’ cam’ Sussex-wards a-seekin’ ye. But, learnin’ ye were leevin’ in Parus an’ much too fine a gentleman for Sussex, I bought me a wee bit hoosie ower Alfriston way—an’ there I’m leevin’ yet, God be thankit.”
“Why, then, Hector, since I intend living at High Dering henceforth, you must live there too. You shall have your old rooms in the north wing ... your study, Hector, with so few books and so very many weapons ... ’twas there you gave me my first lesson in fencing. Do you remember?”
“Aye, I do, lad. And you were ower fond o’ the ‘point’ even then, John. But as for comin’ back yonder to live—whisht, laddie! Alfriston suits me fine, an’ ma bit hoosie is nane sae bad for a lonely man, y’ ken!”
“Tush!” exclaimed Sir John, a trifle pettishly. “High Dering won’t seem home without you. And if you are so lonely——”
“Why, I’m no’ juist solitary, John lad. I hae my company for a crack now an’ then and to smoke a pipe wi’ of an evening; there’s Geordie Potter an’ Peter Bunkle, an’ Joe Pursglove an’ Joe Muddle, an’ ane or two mair. So y’ see I’m no’ juist solitary.”
“But you live alone, I suppose?”