“He couldna dae that for his principles, although we a’ left the auld manse, as ye ca’d, wi’ a heavy heart;” and Bell spoke to Dan at considerable length about the Disruption, and the family, and brought in “wee Nellie” and her death, and her grave in the old kirkyard very touchingly.
“Aweel,” said Dan, “I think ye were the mair fules to leave. Maister Walker’s a nice man, but so is Mr. Barrie; and for a’ I can see, the tane is exactly the same as the tither. Wad Mr. Barrie no gang back yet?”
“Never,” said Bell warmly; “ye may as weel try to lift the milkin’ stane o’ Dumbarton!”[27]
[27] The name given to an enormous mass of rock, which according to local tradition fell from the Castle rock into the cow park of primitive Dumbarton. One or more women who were milking their cows are said to have been smothered by it: if that is the case, the guide may safely assert that their bodies are there yet, as the “milking stone” will weigh thousands of tons.
DUMBARTON.
As Bell said this, Dan’s pipe dropped out of his cheek, and he gave a nervous start; his only eye fixed itself on Bell with more than usual firmness, and he said, “What do ye ken about the milkin’ stane o’ Dumbarton?”
“I come frae Dumbarton; sae does Mrs. Barrie: did ye no’ ken that afore, Dan?”
“No me,” said Dan; “hoo could I ken’d till ye tell’t me? I never thocht on the matter at a’; it was nae business o’ mine.”
“Oh,” said Bell, “the mistress was a daughter, the only daughter, o’ Mr. Gordon o’ the Grainaries.”
Dan rose in intense excitement, and said, “Preserve me, I maun awa’ Bell; dinna speak to me ony mair about that, I canna bear’t the noo. Oh, let me gang! let me gang!”