ow any
better."

"The Lord is merciful."

The marquis laughed--that is, he tried, failed, and grinned.

"Mr. Cairns is in the dining-room, my lord."

"Bah! A low pettifogger, with the soul of a bullock. Don't let me hear
the fellow's name. I've been bad enough, God knows, but I haven't sunk
to the level of _his_ help yet. If he's God Almighty's factor, and the
saw holds, 'Like master, like man,' well, I would rather have nothing
to do with either."

"That is, if you had the choice, my lord," said Mrs. Courthope, her
temper yielding somewhat, though in truth his speech was not half so
irreverent as it seemed to her.

"Tell him to go to hell. No, don't: set him down to a bottle of port
and a great sponge-cake, and you needn't tell him to go to heaven,
for he'll be there already. Why, Mrs. Courthope, the fellow isn't a
gentleman. And yet all he cares for the cloth is that he thinks it
makes a gentleman of him--as if anything in heaven, earth or hell
could work that miracle!"

In the middle of the night, as Malcolm sat by his bed, thinking
him asleep, the marquis spoke suddenly. "You must go to Aberdeen
to-morrow, Malcolm," he said.

"Verra weel, my lord."

"And bring Mr. Glennie, the lawyer, back with you."

"Yes, my lord."

"Go to bed, then."

"I wad raither bide, my lord. I cudna sleep a wink for wantin' to be
back aside ye."

The marquis yielded, and Malcolm sat by him all the night through. He
tossed about, would doze off and murmur strangely, then wake up and
ask for brandy and water, yet be content with the lemonade Malcolm
gave him.

Next day he quarreled with every word that Mrs. Courthope uttered,
kept forgetting he had sent Malcolm away, and was continually wanting
him. His fits of pain were more severe, alternated with drowsiness,
which deepened at times to stupor.

It was late before Malcolm returned. He went instantly to his bedside.

"Is Mr. Glennie with you?" asked his master feebly.

"Yes, my lord."

"Tell him to come here at once."

When Malcolm returned with the lawyer the marquis directed him to
place a table and chair by the bedside, light four candles, provide
everything necessary for writing and go to bed.

CHAPTER LXIX.

THE MARQUIS AND THE SCHOOLMASTER.

Before Malcolm was awake his lordship had sent for him. When he
re-entered the sick chamber Mr. Glennie had vanished, the table had
been removed, and, instead of the radiance of the wax-lights, the cold
gleam