Malise? Declare it or perish!"

The smith lifted up his voice till it struck on the walls of his
cottage and echoed like thunder along the shores of the lake.

"Dame Barbara," he cried, and again, getting no answer, "ho, Dame
Barbara, I say!"

Then at the second hallo, a shrill and somewhat peevish voice
proceeded from within the house opposite.

"Aye, coming, can you not hear, great nolt! 'Deed and 'deed 'tis a
pretty pass when a woman with the cares of an household must come
running light-toe and clatter-heel to every call of such a lazy lout.
Husband, indeed--not house-band but house-bond, I wot--house-torment,
house-thorn, house-cross--"

A sonsy, well-favoured, middle-aged head, strangely at variance with
the words which came from it, peeped out, and instantly the scolding
brattle was stilled. Back went the head into the dark of the house as
if shot from a bombard.

Malise MacKim indulged in a low hoarse chuckle as he caught the words:
"Eh, 'tis my Lord William! Save us, and me wanting my Ryssil gown that
cost me ten silver shillings the ell, and no even so muckle as my
white peaked cap upon my head."

Her husband glanced at the young Earl to see if he appreciated the
savour of the jest. Then he looked away, turning the enjoyment over
and over under his own tongue, and muttering: "Ah, well, 'tis not his