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Updated: May 14, 2025
"We'll warm ye, we'll teach ye." At the edge of the Stony Bottom he, as always, left Red Wull. Crossing it himself, and rounding Langholm How, he espied James Moore, David, and Owd Bob walking away from him and in the direction of Kenmuir. The gray dog and David were playing together, wrestling, racing, and rolling. The boy had never a thought for his father.
"I should be sorry to have to meet it," observed Langholm, "if I were he." "I should find out a little more," was the retort, "if I were you!" "And then?" "Oh, then I should do my duty like a man and take all the emoluments I could." The sneer was intolerable. Langholm turned the color of brick. "I shall!" said he through his mustache. "I have consulted you; there will be no need to do so again.
"Oh, no, we live in London," the young girl was saying; "only I go to the same school as Ida Uniacke, and I am staying here on a visit." "I've finished it," whispered Langholm to Rachel, "this very afternoon; and now I'm ready for yours!
Thus far Langholm had simply satisfied his own curiosity upon one or two points concerning a dead man who had been little more than a name to him hitherto. His one discovery of the least potential value was that Minchin had evidently died in difficulties. He now consulted some notes jotted down on an envelope upon his way to the City. "Mr.
You seem to know him better than he knows you," added the hall-porter, with whom Langholm had made friends. "He wasn't certain whether it was the Mr. Langholm he wanted who was staying here, and he asked to look at the register." "Did you let him see it?" cried Langholm, quickly. "I did, sir." "Then let me have another look at it, please!" It was as Langholm feared.
And, again from sheer force of instinct, Rachel gave a nod. "Were you ever out there, Mrs. Steel?" inquired Langholm, carelessly. "I never was, but the sort of thing has been done to death in books, and I only wonder I didn't recognize it at once. Well, it was the last type one thought to meet with in broad daylight on an English country road!"
Currie had found among Burns's papers a copy of some verses, addressed to the poet, which Telford recognised as his own, written many years before while working as a mason at Langholm.
"Ah!" said Langholm, as though that would require consideration; unluckily, he paused to consider on the spot. "Who are you talking about?" inquired Mr. Venables, who had caught Rachel's last words. "Mrs. Minchin," she told him steadily. "Guilty!" cried Mr. Venables, with great energy. "Guilty, and I'd have gone to see her hanged myself!" And Mr.
At any rate, Tam wouldn't go back; and in the end, a well-to-do cousin, who had risen to the proud position of steward at the great hall of the parish, succeeded in getting another mason at Langholm, the little capital of Eskdale, to take over the runaway for the remainder of the term of his indentures.
It had grown there like Jonah's gourd; only his flippancy affected it; and Steel was far from flippant now. Langholm signed to him to lead the way, and in a very few minutes they were scaring the wildfowl in mid-water, Steel sculling from the after thwart, while Langholm faced him from the crimson cushions.
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