‘Has Mr. Whitteret put this into your head?—he was bred wi’ Keelevin, who drew up the deed,’ said the lawyer seriously, struck with the knowledge which the Leddy seemed to have so miraculously acquired of the provisions of the entail.
‘I dinna need Mr. Whitteret, nor ony siclike, to instruct me in terms o’ law—for I got an inkling and an instinct o’ the whole nine points frae my worthy father, that was himsel bred an advocate, and had more law-pleas on his hands when he died than ony ither three lairds in Carrick, Coil, and Cunningham. But no to be my own trumpeter—ye’ll just, Mr. Pitwinnoch, write a mandamus to Milrookit, in a civil manner—mind that; and tell him in the same, that I’ll be greatly obligated if he’ll gie up the house and property of Kittlestonheugh to the heir-male, James Walkinshaw, his cousin; or, failing therein, ye’ll say that I hae implemented you to pronounce an interlocutor against him; and ye may gie him a bit hint frae yoursel—in a noty beny at the bottom—that you advise him to conform, because you are creditably informed that I mean to pursue him wi’ a’ the law o’ my displeasure.’
‘Does your grandson know any thing of this extraordinary business?’ said Pitwinnoch; but the Leddy parried the question by saying,—
‘That’s no our present sederunt; but I would ask you, if ye do not think I hae the justice o’ this plea?’
‘Indeed, Madam, to say the truth, I shall not be surprised if you have; but there is no need to be so peremptory—the business may be as well settled by an amicable arrangement.’
‘What’s the use of an amicable arrangement? Is na the law the law? Surely I did na come to a lawyer for sic dowf and dowie proceedings as amicable arrangements—no, Mr. Pitwinnoch, ye see yoursel that I hae decern’t on the rights o’ the case, and therefore (for I maun be short wi’ you, for talking to me o’ amicable arrangements) ye may save your breath to cool your porridge; my will and pleasure is, that Walkinshaw Milrookit shall do to-morrow morning—in manner of law—then and there—dispone and surrender unto the heir-male of the late Claud Walkinshaw of Kittlestonheugh, in the shire o’ Lanark, and synod of Glasgow and Ayr—all and sundry the houses and lands aforesaid, according to the provisions of an act made and passed in the reign of our Sovereign Lord the King. Ye see, Mr. Pitwinnoch, that I’m no a daw in barrow’t feathers, to be picket and pooket in the way I was by sic trash as the Milrookits.’
The Leddy, having thus instructed her lawyer, bade him adieu, and returned home, leaning on her maid’s arm, and on the best possible terms with herself, scarcely for a moment doubting a favourable result to a proceeding that in courtesy we must call her second law-suit.
CHAPTER XCVI
The shipwreck of the third Laird had left an awful impression on the minds of all the Glengael party, who, immediately after that disaster, returned to the castle. To Mrs. Eadie it afforded the strongest confirmation that she had inherited the inspiring mantle of her maternal race; and her dreams and visions, which happily for herself were of the most encouraging augury, became more and more frequent, and her language increased in mystery and metaphor.
‘Death,’ said she, ‘has performed his task—the winds of heaven and the ocean waves have obeyed the mandate, and the moon has verified her influence on the destinies of men. But the volume, with the brazen clasps, has not yet been opened—the chronicled wisdom of ages has not yet been unfolded—Antiquity and Learning are still silent in their niches, and their faces veiled.’