Now Steenie was a kind of favourite with his master, and kend a’ the folks about the Castle, and was often sent for to play the pipes when they were at their merriment.  Auld Dougal MacCallum, the butler, that had followed Sir Robert through gude and ill, thick and thin, pool and stream, was specially fond of the pipes, and aye gae my gudesire his gude word wi’ the Laird; for Dougal could turn his master round his finger.

Weel, round came the Revolution, and it had like to have broken the hearts baith of Dougal and his master.  But the change was not a’thegether sae great as they feared, and other folk thought for.  The Whigs made an unco crawing what they wad do with their auld enemies, and in special wi’ Sir Robert Redgauntlet.  But there were ower mony great folks dipped in the same doings, to mak a spick and span new warld.  So Parliament passed it a’ ower easy; and Sir Robert, bating that he was held to hunting foxes instead of Covenanters, remained just the man he was.  His revel was as loud, and his hall as weel lighted, as ever it had been, though maybe he lacked the fines of the nonconformists, that used to come to stock his larder and cellar; for it is certain he began to be keener about the rents than his tenants used to find him before, and they behoved to be prompt to the rent-day, or else the Laird wasna pleased.  And he was sic an awsome body, that naebody cared to anger him; for the oaths he swore, and the rage that he used to get into, and the looks that he put on, made men sometimes think him a devil incarnate.[7]

Weel, my gudesire was nae manager—­no that he was a very great misguider—­but he hadna the saving gift, and he got twa terms’ rent in arrear.  He got the first brash at Whitsunday put ower wi’ fair word and piping; but when Martinmas came, there was a summons from the grund-officer to come wi’ the rent on a day preceese, or else Steenie behoved to flit.  Sair wark he had to get the siller; but he was weel-freended, and at last he got the haill scraped thegether—­a thousand merks—­the maist of it was from a neighbour they caa’d Laurie Lapraik—­a sly tod.  Laurie had walth o’ gear—­could hunt wi’ the hound and rin wi’ the hare—­and be Whig or Tory, saunt or sinner, as the wind stood.  He was a professor in this Revolution warld, but he liked an orra sough of this warld, and a tune on the pipes weel aneugh at a by time; and abune a’, he thought he had a gude security for the siller he lent my gudesire ower the stocking at Primrose-Knowe.

Away trots my gudesire to Redgauntlet Castle, wi’ a heavy purse and a light heart, glad to be out of the Laird’s danger.  Weel, the first thing he learned at the Castle was, that Sir Robert had fretted himself into a fit of the gout, because he did not appear before twelve o’clock.  It wasna a’thegether for sake of the money, Dougal thought; but because he didna like to part wi’ my gudesire aff the grund.  Dougal was glad to see Steenie, and brought him into the great oak parlour, and there