“Did he come originally from Dunse?” returned I, mentioning also the occupation of the person referred to.
“The vera same,” rejoined the miller; “are ye acquainted wi’ him, sir?”
“I ought to be,” replied I; “the person you speak of is merely my father.”
“Your faither!” exclaimed he, opening his mouth and eyes to their full width, and standing for a moment the picture of surprise—“Gude gracious! ye dinna say sae!—is he really your faither? Losh, man, do you no ken, then, that I’m your cousin! Ye’ve heard o’ your cousin, Willie Stewart.”
“Fifty times,” replied I.
“Weel, I’m the vera man,” said he—“Gie’s your hand; for, ’odsake, man, I’m as glad as glad can be. This is real extraordinar’. I’ve often heard o’ you—it will be you that writes the buiks—faith ye’ll be able to mak something o’ this. But come awa’ into the house—ye dinna stir a mile far’er for a week, at ony rate.”
So saying, and still grasping my hand, he led me to the farm-house. On crossing the threshold—
“Here, lassie,” he cried, in a voice that made roof and rafters ring, “bring ben the speerits, and get on the kettle—here’s a cousin that I ne’er saw in my life afore.”
A few minutes served mutually to confirm and explain our newly-discovered relationship.
“Man,” said he, as we were filling a second glass, “ye’ve just come in the very nick o’ time; an’ I’ll tell ye how. Ye see I’m gaun to be married the day after the morn; an’ no haein’ a friend o’ ony kin-kind in this quarter, I had to ask an acquaintance to be the best man. Now, this was vexin’ me mair than ye can think, particularly, ye see, because the sweetheart has aye been hinting to me that it wadna be lucky for me no to hae a bluid relation for a best man. For that matter, indeed, luck here, luck there, I no care the toss up o’ a ha’penny about omens mysel’; but now that ye’ve fortunately come, I’m a great deal easier, an’ it will be ae craik out o’ the way, for it will please her; an’ ye may guess, between you an’ me, that she’s worth the pleasin’, or I wadna had her; so I’ll just step ower an’ tell the ither lad that I hae a cousin come to be my best man, an’ he’ll think naething o’t.”