Maggie hardly knew whether to turn back or to go on; being undecided, she did neither, but stood still in some bewilderment, the letter still lying at her feet.
'But you have not answered my question, I think,' said the Duke encouragingly.
'I peg Your Grace's pardon again,' replied the girl nervously; 'but it wass—it wass—but it wass Angus'—— And there she stopped abruptly, and fairly broke down.
'Come here, my child,' said the Duke, interested in the girl's manifest grief. 'And what about Angus? Tell me all about it. Who knows, I may be able to help you?'
The Highland maid looked into the thoughtful kind face of the Duke, and went a few steps towards him.
'It wass apoot Angus MacTavish, Your Grace, and he wass—— But Your Grace will not know anything at all, at all apoot Angus.'
'Do you mean the game-keeper's son, one of my crew, Maggie?'
'Ay, Your Grace, that same!' said she with delighted eagerness.
'Oh, he's at the root of your distress, the rascal, is he?'
'And inteed no, Your Grace; it wass not him at all; he wad not hurt nopody's feelings whatefer; oh, inteed, he's as cood and—and as prave a lad as iss in all the Hielants mirofer; and it iss not him, Your Grace, but my father and his father too had some quarrel; not but that they are cood men, poth cood men neither; but it wass all on account o' a gless o' pad whusky or the like o' that, I think; but—but—oh, Your Grace, Angus is going away cass my father has taken a hatred of him, and won't hef a word that iss cood to say to him; and if Angus goes away, it wad preak my heart!'