‘There was never a prettier bit o’ horse-flesh in the stable o’ the Gordon Arms,’ said the man, which information increased the landlady’s respect for the rider.  Finding, on her return, that the stranger declined to go into another apartment (which, indeed, she allowed, would be but cold and smoky till the fire bleezed up), she installed her guest hospitably by the fireside, and offered what refreshment her house afforded.

‘A cup of your tea, ma’am, if you will favour me.’

Mrs. Mac-Candlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot with hyson, and proceeded in her duties with her best grace.  ’We have a very nice parlour, sir, and everything very agreeable for gentlefolks; but it’s bespoke the night for a gentleman and his daughter that are going to leave this part of the country; ane of my chaises is gane for them, and will be back forthwith.  They’re no sae weel in the warld as they have been; but we’re a’ subject to ups and downs in this life, as your honour must needs ken,—­but is not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to your honour?’

’By no means, ma’am; I am an old campaigner, and perfectly used to it.  Will you permit me to make some inquiries about a family in this neighbourhood?’

The sound of wheels was now heard, and the landlady hurried to the door to receive her expected guests; but returned in an instant, followed by the postilion.  ’No, they canna come at no rate, the Laird’s sae ill.’

‘But God help them,’ said the landlady, ’the morn’s the term, the very last day they can bide in the house; a’ thing’s to be roupit.’

’Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye; Mr. Bertram canna be moved.’

‘What Mr. Bertram?’ said the stranger; ’not Mr. Bertram of Ellangowan, I hope?’

‘Just e’en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o’ his, ye have come at a time when he’s sair bested.’

’I have been abroad for many years,—­is his health so much deranged?’

‘Ay, and his affairs an’ a’,’ said the Deacon; ’the creditors have entered into possession o’ the estate, and it’s for sale; and some that made the maist by him—­I name nae names, but Mrs. Mac-Candlish kens wha I mean (the landlady shook her head significantly)—­they’re sairest on him e’en now.  I have a sma’ matter due myself, but I would rather have lost it than gane to turn the auld man out of his house, and him just dying.’

‘Ay, but,’ said the parish clerk, ’Factor Glossin wants to get rid of the auld Laird, and drive on the sale, for fear the heir-male should cast up upon them; for I have heard say, if there was an heir-male they couldna sell the estate for auld Ellangowan’s debt.’

‘He had a son born a good many years ago,’ said the stranger; ’he is dead, I suppose?’

‘Nae man can say for that,’ answered the clerk mysteriously.

‘Dead!’ said the Deacon, ’I’se warrant him dead lang syne; he hasna been heard o’ these twenty years or thereby.’