“Ye’re right, miller,” said James, “ye’re quite right. An’ little did ye ken, when ye louped aff your horse to save the robin, an’ to tak it hame wi’ ye, that your sovereign was so near ye, an’ saw it all, as well as the way that ye bring up your family to serve their Maker; an’ it gied me a gude opinion o’ ye, miller, an’ all that I hae learned since has confirmed me in it, an’ makes me say, before a’ the folk here present, that ye’re a gude and an honest man. Ye tell’t me, miller, that ye wad hae to leave the mill; but I tell ye that I hae settled it, an’ that it’s yours at the auld rent, while grass grows an’ water rins, an’ lang may you an’ yours possess it.”
King James having finished, the miller tried to say something; but his lip began to quiver, an’ his ee to fill, an’ he couldna speak; sae he claspit his bonnet between his twa hands, laid it to his breast, and bowed his head in silence to the king.
“It’s enough,” said King James; “an’ now call Geordie Wilson o’ the Hope.” Sae Geordie was brought and placed before him, and the king said to him, “I hear, young man, that ye hae met wi’ some misfortunes of late, an’ I hae been askin’ about you, an’ find that ye’re an industrious man, an’ a man o’ character, an’ hae behaved yoursel weel in a’ respects; sae gang ye hame to the Hope, an’ ye’ll maybe find something, baith in the house an’ out o’ the house, that will please ye. An’ hear ye, Geordie Wilson,” continued King James, “if it happens, as it may happen, that ye court a lass, tak ye gude care that she’s no quick o’ the temper” (an’ he glanced at Jeanie); “an’ dinna mak ower muckle o’ her, or gie her a’ her ain way; for there’s a saying, A birkie wife, an’ a new lightit candle, are the better o’ haein’ their heads hauden doun.”
“Come hither, William Marshall,” said King James; “this prize was for the best runner among his subjects, and the king canna tak it, sae it’s yours; and, young man,” continued the king, in a lower voice, “ye got a sairer fa’ than I intended ye, but my blude was up at the time,—for kings are no muckle used to haein’ hands laid on them.”
“My liege,” cried the Earl of Lennox, “the Queen fears that danger may arise from your Majesty’s remaining so long uncovered after your late exertion, and her Majesty entreats that you will be pleased to throw this cloak around you.”
“’Tis well thought of, Lennox,” said the king; “and now for a brisk walk, and a change of dress, and all will be well;” and as he went away the people threw up their hats and bonnets, and the air resounded with cries of, “Long live the good King James!”
Chapter IV.
An’ now the folk set aff for their ain hames, an’ the miller and his family crackit wi’ their neebours till they parted at the road that led to the mill; and then nane o’ them said onything, for they were a’ busy wi’ their ain thoughts; an’ when the miller gaed into the kitchen, the robin chirped and chirped, for he aye fed it, an’ it was glad to see him.
The miller gets some seed in his hand, an’ as he’s feeding the robin, his heart begins to swell, an’ his ee to fill, an’ he says, “Bairns, wha wad hae thought it; I say,” clearing his throat, “wha wad hae thought it, bairns, that sae muckle gude wad hae fa’en to our lot, an’ a’ coming out o’ saving the life o’ a bit burdie?”
“An’ wha kens, father,” said Jeanie, “but ye may be now rewarded for a’ the gude that grandfather Thomas did, an’ about which ye hae often tell’t us? For ye ken there’s a promise to that effect in the Bible, an’ as the Bible canna lie, I ken wha’ll hae a gude chance too.”