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Updated: May 3, 2025
Meantime Lady Clementina, her maid having gone to send her man to get horses for her at once, was alone in her room, which was close to the drawing room: hearing Malcolm's voice, she ran to the door, and saw Rose in a listening attitude at that of the drawing room. "What are you doing there?" she said. "Mr MacPhail told me to follow him, my lady, and I am waiting here till he wants me."
He laughed aloud when the door closed, for the spirit of what the Germans call Schadenfreude was never far from his elbow, and he rejoiced in the parson's discomfiture. It was in virtue of his simplicity, precluding discomfiture, that Malcolm could hold his own with him so well. For him he now sent. "Well, MacPhail," he said kindly, as the youth entered, "how is that foot of yours getting on?"
Lord Liftore was one of the company, and so, to Malcolm's pleasure, for he felt in him an ally against the earl, was Florimel's mysterious friend. Scarcely had the ladies gone to the drawing room, when Florimel's maid, who knew Malcolm, came in quest of him. Lady Lossie desired to see him. "What is the meaning of this, MacPhail?" she said, when he entered the room where she sat alone.
He found the governor at home. He was a large, handsome man, a sailor, with a grey toothbrush moustache; and he wore a spotless uniform of white drill. "I've come to see you about a woman who's lodging in the same house as we are," he said. "Her name's Thompson." "I guess I've heard nearly enough about her, Dr Macphail," said the governor, smiling.
I had a tariff, and every sin had to be paid for either in money or work. And at last I made them understand." "But did they never refuse to pay?" "How could they?" asked the missionary. "It would be a brave man who tried to stand up against Mr Davidson," said his wife, tightening her lips. Dr Macphail looked at Davidson with troubled eyes.
The rain poured down without ceasing. "I'm not going to unpack more than we actually need," said Mrs Macphail. Mrs Davidson came into the room as she was unlocking a portmanteau. She was very brisk and alert. The cheerless surroundings had no effect on her.
They lay side by side with their eyes wide open, listening to the cruel singing of the mosquitoes outside their curtain. "What's that?" whispered Mrs Macphail at last. They heard a voice, Davidson's voice, through the wooden partition. It went on with a monotonous, earnest insistence. He was praying aloud. He was praying for the soul of Miss Thompson. Two or three days went by.
"Sir, I have read with amusement, not wholly unmixed with some less complimentary emotion, the complacent and wholly fatuous letter of James Wilson MacPhail which has lately appeared in your columns upon the subject of the blurring of Fraunhofer's lines in the spectra both of the planets and of the fixed stars. He dismisses the matter as of no significance.
"My brave fisherman!" she cried. "Take that bad man MacPhail, and put him out of my grounds ." "I canna du't, my leddy," answered their leader. "Take Lord Liftore," said Malcolm, "and hold him, while I make him acquainted with a fact or two which he may judge of consequence to him." The men walked straight up to the earl. He struck right and left, but was overpowered in a moment, and held fast.
Yet less could the far stronger contrast escape him, between the picture in his own mind of the mother of the mad laird, and the woman before him; he could not by any effort cause the two to coalesce. "You have had a long ride, Mr MacPhail," she said; "you must be tired." "What wad tire me, mem?" returned Malcolm. "It's a fine caller evenin', an' I hed ane o' the marquis's best mears to carry me."
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