“Cot tamn,” quo’ Donald; “the note the auld scoundrel, your grandfater, stole frae me.”
“My grandfaither!” answered the ither wi’ amazement. “I am thinking, honest man, ye hae had a glass ower muckle. My grandfaither has been dead for saxteen years, and I ne’er heard tell till now that he was a fief.”
“Weel, weel, then,” quo’ the Heelandman, “I don’t care naething about it. If he’s no your grandfaither, he’ll be your faither, or your brither, or your cousin.”
“My faither or my brither, or my cousin!” repeated Mr Weft. “I maun tell ye plainly, frien’, that I hae neither faither, nor brither, nor cousin of ony description, on this side of the grave. I dinna understand ye, honest man, but I reckon that ye hae sat ower lang at the whisky, and my advice to ye is to stap awa hame and sleep it aff.”
At this speech the Heelandman lost a’ patience, and lookit sae awfully fairce, that ance or twice I was on the nick of coming forrit, and explaining how matters really stood; but curiosity keepit me chained to the back shop, and I just thoucht I would bide a wee, and see how the affair was like to end.
“Pray, wha are you, sir?” said Donald, putting his hands in his sides, and looking through his specks upon Mr Weft, like a deevil incarnit. “Wha are you, sir, that daur to speak to me in this manner?”
“Wha am I?” said the ither, drapping the remnant of the paper, which was burnin’ close to his fingers, “I am Saunders Weft, manufacturer in Hamilton—that’s what I am.”
“And I am Tonald Campbell, piper’s sister’s son to his grace the great, grand Tuke of Argyll,” thundered out the Heelandman, wi’ a voice that was fearsome to hear.
“And what about that?” quo’ Mr Weft, rather snappishly, as I thocht. “If ye were the great, grand Duke of Argyll himsel, as ye ca’ him, I’ll no permit you to kick up a dust in my shop.”
“Ye scounrel,” said Donald, seizing Mr Weft by the throat, and shaking him till he tottered like an aspen leaf, “div ye mean to speak ill of his grace the Tuke of Argyll?” And he gied him anither shake—then, laying haud of his nose, he swore that he would pu’t as lang as a cow’s tail, if he didna that instant restore him his lost property. At this sicht I began to grue a’ ower, and now saw the needcessity of stapping ben, and saving my employer frae farther damage, bodily and itherwise. Nae sooner had I made my appearance than Donald let go his grip of Mr Weft’s nose, and the latter, in a great passion, cried out—