"The deil's in this man," said Cuddie to himself; "I wish he would either
light aff or ride on, that he may quarter himsell in Hamilton or the
shower begin."
But the rider sate motionless on his horse for two or three moments after
his last question, like one exhausted by some uncommon effort. At length,
recovering himself as if with a sudden and painful effort, he asked
Cuddie "if Lady Margaret Bellenden still lived."
"She does," replied Cuddie, "but in a very sma' way. They hae been a sad
changed family since thae rough times began; they hae suffered eneugh
first and last,--and to lose the auld Tower and a' the bonny barony and
the holms that I hae pleughed sae often, and the Mains, and my kale-yard,
that I suld hae gotten back again, and a' for naething, as 'a body may
say, but just the want o' some bits of sheep-skin that were lost in the
confusion of the taking of Tillietudlem."
"I have heard something of this," said the stranger, deepening his voice
and averting his head. "I have some interest in the family, and would
willingly help them if I could. Can you give me a bed in your house
to-night, my friend?"
"It's but a corner of a place, sir," said Cuddie, "but we'se try, rather
than ye suld ride on in the rain and thunner; for, to be free wi' ye,
sir, I think ye seem no that ower weel.
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