"Well, my little fellow," he said, "I am going to Blackhouse. You know it, I fancy?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, call upon me there to-morrow forenoon. Ask for Mr M'Donald. I wish to speak further with you."
The boy promised, and Mr M'Donald rode off.
Now, it would not be easy for us to say what were the latter's intentions regarding the little barelegged boy; and for this simple reason—that he did not well know himself. He had, however, taken a fancy to the boy—that is certain—and felt a disposition to do him a service, although he had not yet thought of what nature this should be, or how it was to be done. He had, in truth, no definite views on the subject; but he had not ridden far, when these began to assume something of a tangible shape, and this was, to take the boy into his service as a personal attendant, provided his parents should agree to it.
True to his appointment, little Duncan waited next day on Mr M'Donald, his face well washed, and his hair carefully combed over his forehead.
"Ah, Duncan, are you there?" said the latter, on his entering the apartment where he was. "I'm glad to see you. You said yesterday, Duncan, that you would like to go abroad."
"Weel wad I like that, sir," replied the little bare-breeched Highlander, "if my faither could spare me."
"Did you speak to your father on the subject, Duncan?"
"I tell't him that I met you, sir, and what you said."