"'Deed, I didna luik," said the landlord. "Its i' the back yard."

As Donal went through the house to the yard, he passed the door of a
room where some of the townsfolk sat, and heard the earl mentioned.

He had not asked Andrew anything about the young man he had spoken
with; for he understood that his host held himself not at liberty to
talk about the family in which his granddaughter was a servant. But
what was said in public he surely might hear! He requested the
landlord to let him have a bottle of ale, and went into the room and
sat down.

It was a decent parlour with a sanded floor. Those assembled were a
mixed company from town and country, having a tumbler of
whisky-toddy together after the market. One of them was a stranger
who had been receiving from the others various pieces of information
concerning the town and its neighbourhood.

"I min' the auld man weel," a wrinkled gray-haired man was saying as
Donal entered, "--a varra different man frae this present. He wud
sit doon as ready as no--that wud he--wi' ony puir body like mysel',
an' gie him his cracks, an' hear his news, an' drink his glaiss, an'
mak naething o' 't. But this man, haith! wha ever saw him cheenge
word wi' brither man?"

"I never h'ard hoo he came to the teetle: they say he was but some
far awa' cousin!" remarked a farmer-looking man, florid and stout.

"Hoots! he was ain brither to the last yerl, wi' richt to the
teetle, though nane to the property. That he's but takin' care o'