Mr. Fergus McAlister returned leisurely to the table after his "wash," remained silent a few minutes longer, then lifted his head and said: "I don't see that I am called upon to transport those legs."
"No," I answered; "but you had best take the remains in a lump and sort them on their arrival."
"I am afraid it will be seriously expensive. My good sir, the property is not now worth what it was in Captain Alister's time. Land has gone down in value, and rents have been seriously reduced. Besides, farmers are now more exacting than formerly; they will not put up with the byres that served their fathers. Then my son in the army is a great expense to me, and my second son is not yet earning his livelihood, and my daughters have not yet found suitors, so that I shall have to leave them something on which to live; besides"—he drew a long breath—"I want to build on to the house a billiard-room."
"I do not think," protested I, "that the cost would be very serious."
"What do you mean by serious?" he asked.
"I think that these relics of humanity might be transported to Auchimachie in a hogshead of cognac, much as the others were."
"What is the price of cognac down there?" asked he.
"Well," I replied, "that is more than I can say as to the cask. Best cognac, three stars, is five francs fifty centimes a bottle."
"That's a long price. But one star?"
"I cannot say; I never bought that. Possibly three francs and a half."