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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Ye was some sair upo' me, Ma'colm," he went on, grasping the youth's hand. "I doobt I was ower sair," said Malcolm, who could hardly speak for a lump in his throat. "Weel, I deserved it. But eh, Ma'colm! I canna believe it was me: it bude to be the drink."
"I wadna say a word 'at micht fa' sair on a sair hert," he returned; "but gien ye kent a', ye wad ken I hed a gey sized craw to pluck wi' 's lordship mysel'." The girl gave a low cry. "Ye wadna hurt 'im, Ma'colm?" she said, in terror at the thought of the elegant youth in the clutches of an angry fisherman, even if he were the generous Malcolm MacPhail himself.
"I thank ye frae mine," answered Malcolm, and again they shook hands. "But eh, Ma'colm, my man!" said the factor, "hoo will I ever shaw my face again?" "Fine that!" returned Malcolm, eagerly. "Fowk's terrible guid natur'd whan ye alloo 'at ye're i' the wrang. I do believe 'at whan a man confesses till 's neebour, an' says he's sorry, he thinks mair o' 'im nor afore he did it.
"It was the drink," rejoined Malcolm; "an' eh sir! afore ye rise frae that bed, sweir to the great God 'at ye'll never drink nae mair drams, nor onything 'ayont ae tum'ler at a sittin'." "I sweir't; I sweir't, Ma'colm!" cried the factor. "It's easy to sweir't noo, sir, but whan ye're up again it'll be hard to keep yer aith.
Jest make your apoalogies till 'im, an' tell 'im you had a drop too much, and you're soary for misbehavin' yerself to wann sae much your shuperrior. Tell 'im that, Ma'colm, an' there's a half-croon to ye." She wished much to speak English, and I have tried to represent the thing she did speak, which was neither honest Scotch nor anything like English.
"There was a time, Ma'colm, whan what was mine was yours, an' what was yours was mine, but that time's gane." "I'm sorry to hear that, Peter; but still I owe you as much as that for bare wages." "There was no word o' wages when ye said, Peter, come to Lon'on wi' me. Davie there he maun hae his wauges."
"I want to speak to ye, Ma'colm MacPhail," she said, in a tone whose very stillness revealed a depth of trouble. "I doobt I canna hearken to ye richt the noo," said Malcolm. "But bide a wee." He swung himself from Kelpie's back, and, hanging hard on the bit with one hand, searched with the other in the pocket of his coat, saying, as he did so "Sugar, Kelpie! sugar!"
"Ye was some sair upo' me, Ma'colm," he went on, grasping the youth's hand. "I doobt I was ower sair," said Malcolm, who could hardly speak for a lump in his throat. "Weel, I deserved it. But eh, Ma'colm! I canna believe it was me: it bude to be the drink."
Ma'colm, man!" and with a bitter cry he started to his feet "I maist dinna believe there's a God ava'. It disna luik like it dis 't noo?" There came an answering cry from the closet; Annie rushed out, half undressed, and threw her arms about her husband. "Joseph! Joseph!" she said, in a voice hard with agony almost more dreadful than a scream "gien ye speyk like that, ye 'll drive me mad.
"'Deed, my leddy," said Lizzy, "Ma'colm's been ower guid to me, no to gar me du onything he wad hae o' me. I can haud my tongue whan I like, my leddy. An' dinna doobt my thouchts, my leddy, for I ken Ma'colm as weel's ye du yersel', my leddy." While she was speaking Clementina rose, and they went straight to the door in the bank.
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