He left his basket at the top of the stairs that led down the rock
to the level of the burn, and walked up the valley of the stream.

The garden was a curious old fashioned place, with high hedges, and
close alleys of trees, where two might have wandered long without
meeting, and it was some time before he found any hint of the
presence of the marquis. At length, however, he heard voices, and
following the sound, walked along one of the alleys till he came
to a little arbour, where he discovered the marquis seated, and,
to his surprise, the white robed lady of the sands beside him. A
great deer hound at his master's feet was bristling his mane, and
baring his eye teeth with a growl, but the girl had a hold of his
collar.

"Who are you?" asked the marquis rather gruffly, as if he had never
seen him before.

"I beg yer lordship's pardon," said Malcolm, "but they telled me
yer lordship wantit to see me, and sent me to the flooer garden.
Will I gang, or will I bide?"

The marquis looked at him for a moment, frowningly, and made
no reply. But the frown gradually relaxed before Malcolm's modest
but unflinching gaze, and the shadow of a smile slowly usurped its
place. He still kept silent, however.

"Am I to gang or bide, my lord?" repeated Malcolm.

"Can't you wait for an answer?"