sound of talking and then a heavy step was heard ascending the stairs,
and without introduction a tall man, wrapped in a cloak and carrying a
child of some two years old, strode into the room. He threw his hat on to
a settle and advanced straight towards the bailie, who looked in surprise
at this unceremonious entry.

"Don't you know me, Andrew?"

"Heaven preserve us," the bailie exclaimed, "why it's Malcolm!"

"Malcolm himself," the visitor repeated, "sound in wind and limb."

"The Lord be praised!" the bailie exclaimed as he grasped the other's
hand and wrung it warmly. "I had thought you dead years and years ago.
Janet, this is my brother Malcolm of whom you have often heard me speak."

"And of whom you can have heard little good, mistress, if my brother has
spoken the truth concerning me. I was ever a ne'er do well, while Andrew
struck hard and fast to our father's trade."

"My husband has ever spoken with affection of you," Janet Anderson said.
"The bailie is not given to speak ill of any, much less of his own flesh
and blood."

"And now sit down, Malcolm. Supper is waiting, and you are, I doubt not,
ready for it. It is ill talking to a fasting man. When you have done you
shall tell me what you have been doing for the last fifteen years, and
how it comes that you thus suddenly come back among us with your boy."

"He is no boy of mine," Malcolm said; "but I will tell you all about it