"Why, I can't say how it was," answered his informant; "but I wish I durst tell all I think."
"Say it!—say it!" exclaimed Willie, vehemently, "what do you mean by, if you durst say all you think? If there be the shadow o' foul play, I will sift it to the bottom, though it cost me a thousand pounds; and there is anither that will gie mair."
"Ah, sir, I am but a friendless old man," replied the other, "that could not stand the weight of a stronger arm."
"Plague take their arms!" cried Willie, handling his cudgel, as if to shew the strength of his own—"tell what ye think, and they'll have strong arms that dare touch a hair o' yer head."
"Well, master," was the reply, "I don't like to say too much to strangers, but if thou makest any stay in these parts, I may tell thee something; and I fear that wherever poor Henry is, he is in need of friends. But perhaps your honour would wish to see her grave?"
"Her grave!" ejaculated Willie—"yes! yes! yes!—her grave!—O misery! have I come frae Dumfries-shire to see a sicht like this?"
The old man led the way over the stile, hanging his head and sighing as he went. Willie followed him, drawing his sleeve across his eyes, as was his custom when his heart was touched, and forgetting the dress of the gentleman which he wore, in the feelings of the man.
"The family vault is in yonder corner," said his conductor, as they turned across the churchyard.
"Save us, friend!" exclaimed Willie, looking towards the spot, "saw ye ever the like o' yon?—a poor miserable dementit creature, wringing his hands as though his heart would break!"
"Tis he! 'tis he!" shouted the old man, springing forward with the alacrity of youth, "my child!—my dear young master!"