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Updated: June 3, 2025
"I hae whiles thoucht mysel', sir," said Malcolm, "it was gey strange like to hae a wuman o' the mak o' Mistress Catanach sittin' at the receipt o' bairns, like the gatekeeper o' the ither wan', wi' the hasp o' 't in her han': it doesna promise ower weel for them 'at she lats in.
Catanach was the only woman he had ever looked upon with dislike and that dislike had generated no more than the vaguest suspicion. Let a woman's faults be all that he had ever known in woman; he yet could look on her with reverence and the very heart of reverence is love, whence it may be plainly seen that Malcolm's nature was at once prepared for much delight, and exposed to much suffering.
She raved and scolded and abused Mrs Catanach, till at last she was driven to that final resource the airs of an injured woman. She turned and walked back to the upper town, while Mrs Findlay went on to take what share she might in the worship of the congregation.
For Mrs Catanach herself, she never alluded to the subject, and indeed when it was mentioned in her hearing pretended to avoid it; but at the same time she took good care that her silence should be not only eloquent, but discreetly so, that is, implying neither more nor less than she wished to be believed.
"My Malcolm will always pe speaking tat which will pe worth ta hearing with ta ears. Poth of you and me will be knowing ta Mistress Catanach pretty well eh, Malcolm, my son? We'll not be trusting her fery too much will we, my son?" "No a hair, daddy," returned Malcolm.
He had been feart o' sleepin' ower lang, ye see, an' sae had waukit ower sune. I was oot efter the fish mysel." "Ow, ay! I fired the gun. The puir man wod hae bursten himsel' gien I hadna." "Deil gien he had bursten himsel' the auld heelan' sholt!" exclaimed Mrs Catanach spitefully. "Ye sanna even sic words to my gran'father, Mrs Catanach," said Malcolm with rebuke. She laughed a strange laugh.
He closed the door behind him, and lest Mrs Catanach should repossess herself of the key, drew it from the lock, and, removing a few yards, sat down in the passage by his own door. A good many minutes passed, during which he heard not a sound. At length the door opened, and his lordship came out.
Jean, however, was on the shady side of fifty, more likely to have already yielded than to be liable to a first assault of corruption; and little did Miss Horn think how useless was her warning, or where Barbara Catanach was at that very moment Trusting to Jean's cunning, as well she might; she was in the dead chamber, and standing over the dead.
Malcolm spent nearly two hours on the way, and met the boy returning, who told him that Mrs. Catanach was not to be found. His road lay down the glen, past Duncan's cottage, at whose door he dismounted, but he did not find him. Taking the bridle on his arm, he walked by his horse the rest of the way. It was about nine o'clock, and the night very dark.
His claim 'll want nae supportin'. Dinna ye believe a word Mistress Stewart or Bauby Catanach aither wad say to ye. Gien he be Mistress Stewart's, wha was his father?" "You think he resembles my late brother: he has a look of him, I confess." "He has, my lord. But onybody 'at kent the mither o' 'im, as you an' me did, my lord, wad see anither lik'ness as weel." "I grant nothing."
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