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He mentions that M'Gregor of Glenstrae and some of his people had surrendered themselves to one of the Earls of Argyle, upon the express condition that they should be conveyed safe into England. The Maccallum Mhor of the day kept the word of promise, but it was only to the ear.
"Good-night, Mr. Keppel." "Good-night, Mrs. M'Gregor." She retired, and Stuart sat staring out into the darkness. He was not prone to superstition, but it seemed like tempting providence to remain there with the windows open any longer. Yet paradoxically, he lacked the moral courage to close them to admit to himself that he was afraid!
I was there mysel'," said M'Gregor. "Hae ye the fever on ye still?" "Yes goin' home to get rid of it." A man can only get Queensland fever in a malarial district, but he can carry it with him wherever he goes.
Has not master sent me often enough to know how she is? He appears to be very much interested about her health. Only yesterday he sent me again to inquire how Lady M'Gregor had passed the night." "Well."
In what way does she differ from my other lady patients?" And even as he spoke the words he knew in his heart that she differed from every other woman in the world. Mrs. M'Gregor sniffed. "Do your other lady patients wear furs that your airnings for six months could never pay for, Mr. Keppel?" she inquired. "No, unfortunately they pin their faith, for the most part, to gaily coloured shawls.
Eighteen solid years clean throwed away!" "Well, I am after somebody. I'm after ole M'Gregor at least, I'll be after him as soon 's I git this reservoy off o' my mind. Daresay I'll git you to understand by-'n'-by.
Grand grass there, an' most o' the road down. I come with some fats as fur as Wilcannia; an' a drover took charge o' them there; an' my orders was to come on to Mondunbarra. I been here goin' on for three weeks, rasslin' with that reservoy, an' cursin' M'Gregor an' Smythe for bein' man-eaters, an' myself for bein' a born fool." "Then why don't you leave?" asked Thompson.
The shipbuilding is fast leaving the Thames and finding its way here. It is a pleasure to hear people say: "There is a fine ship she is Clyde-built." "Who built her? Was it Napier, or Thomson, or Tod, or M'Gregor, or Randolph & Elder, or Caird, or Denny of Dumbarton, or Cunliff & Dunlop?" Pardon me if I have left out any name, for all are good builders.
It may be mentioned that in 1842 they opened an additional retail warehouse in Buchanan Street, under the firm of Campbell & Co. a business afterwards disposed of to Neilson, Shaw, & M'Gregor; and that the retail business in Candleriggs Street was disposed of to Donald & Sellar.
Notwithstanding this notice, Madame George, uneasy at my silence respecting her protegee cannot, she writes me, resist her desire to have some news of her cherished daughter, as she calls the poor child." "This is strange, my lord." "For what end should she have been carried off?" "My lord," said Murphy, suddenly, "the Countess M'Gregor is no stranger to this affair." "Sarah?
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