The landlord cocked his ears. "And what story's that, Watty?" he said. "I never heard it."
"It's no the waur o' that, however," said Watty, dryly.
"No a grain," replied the other, with one of his good-natured laughs; "but let us judge for oursels."
"I'll do that," quoth Walter; and he immediately began:—"Twa or three years ago, as ye a' ken, Lord Drumlanrig, son o' the Duke o' Queensberry, raised a regiment for what was ca'ed the Holland service. His lordship's headquarters durin the recruitin for the corps was Dumfries, where he used to beat up on the market days. Amongst those who were enlisted on ane o' thae occasions was a young lad o' the name o' Sandy M'Gill—a joiner to trade. Sandy was a handsome, good-lookin young man—very smart and clever, and possessed o' a good education; that is, he wrote and figured weel.
On the regiment being completed, it was embodied at Dunse, and then drilled for some time. It was then marched to Leith, Sandy M'Gill and a', where it was to be embarked for Amsterdam. Two days after the regiment had left Dunse, Lord Drumlanrig, mounted on horseback, and attended by a servant, also mounted, set out from Dumfries, to join his regiment at Leith, whence he meant to sail wi' it for Holland. On approachin the Nether Mill, his lordship was recognised, while yet at some distance, by an auld blacksmith o' the name o' William Thamson.
"There," said he to a bit lively, hardy-lookin auld wifie—it was Widow M'Gill—"there's Lord Drumlanrig comin forrit."
"Is that him?" quoth the auld wife; "feth and I maun speak to him then! He's taen awa my puir Sandy for a sodger."
And she ran into the middle o' the road, and, ere Lord Drumlanrig was aware, she had his horse by the bridle, exclaimin—
"Please yer lordship, ye maun stop and speak to me a wee. I hae something to say to ye."
"What is it, my good woman?" said his lordship, smilin good-naturedly; "but I'm in a great hurry, and you must not detain me a moment."