his way to the dining room, from which came the confused noises of
the feast.

"You'll be come up to wait on Lady Lossie," he said. "I haven't
a moment to speak to you now, for we're at dinner, and there's a
party."

"Never mind me. Give me that dish; I'll take it in: you can go for
another," said Malcolm, laying his pipes in a safe spot.

"You can't go into the dining room that figure," said Wallis, who
was in the Bellair livery.

"This is how I waited on my lord," returned Malcolm, "and this is
how I'll wait on my lady."

Wallis hesitated. But there was that about the fisher fellow was
too much for him. As he spoke, Malcolm took the dish from his hands,
and with it walked into the dining room.

There one reconnoitring glance was sufficient. The butler was at the
sideboard opening a champagne bottle. He had cut wire and strings,
and had his hand on the cork as Malcolm walked up to him. It was
a critical moment, yet he stopped in the very article, and stared
at the apparition.

"I'm Lady Lossie's man from Lossie House. I'll help you to wait,"
said Malcolm.

To the eyes of the butler he looked a savage. But there he