“No, it’s a new public, but it’s an auld house; it was aye the Leddy’s jointure-house in the Croftangry folk’s time. But Mr. Treddles has fitted it up for the convenience of the country, poor man, he was a public-spirited man when he had the means.” “Duntarkin a public-house!” I exclaimed. “Ay!” said the fellow, surprised at my naming the place by its former title; “ye’ll hae been in this country before, I’m thinking?” “Long since,” I replied. “And there is good accommodation at the what-d’ye-call-’em arms, and a civil landlord?” This I said by way of saying something, for the man stared very hard at me. “Very decent accommodation. Ye’ll no be for fashing wi’ wine, I’m thinking; and there’s walth o’ porter, ale, and a drap gude whisky” (in an undertone)--“Fairntosh--if you call get on the lee-side of the gudewife--for there is nae gudeman. They ca’ her Christie Steele.” I almost started at the sound. Christie Steele! Christie Steele was my mother’s body-servant, her very right hand, and, between ourselves, something like a viceroy over her. I recollected her perfectly; and though she had in former times been no favourite of mine, her name now sounded in my ear like that of a friend, and was the first word I had heard somewhat in unison with the associations around me. I sallied from Castle Treddles, determined to make the best of my way to Duntarkin, and my cicerone hung by me for a little way, giving loose to his love of talking--an opportunity which, situated as he was, the seneschal of a deserted castle, was not likely to occur frequently. “Some folk think,” said my companion, “that Mr. Treddles might as weel have put my wife as Christie Steele into the Treddles Arms; for Christie had been aye in service, and never in the public line, and so it’s like she is ganging back in the world, as I hear. Now, my wife had keepit a victualling office.” “That would have been an advantage, certainly,” I replied. “But I am no sure that I wad ha’ looten Eppie take it, if they had put it in her offer.” “That’s a different consideration.” “Ony way, I wadna ha’ liked to have offended Mr. Treddles. He was a wee toustie when you rubbed him again the hair; but a kind, weel-meaning man.” I wanted to get rid of this species of chat, and finding myself near the entrance of a footpath which made a short cut to Duntarkin, I put half a crown into my guide’s hand, bade him good-evening, and plunged into the woods. “Hout, sir--fie, sir--no from the like of you. Stay, sir, ye wunna find the way that gate.--Odd’s mercy, he maun ken the gate as weel as I do mysel’. Weel, I wad like to ken wha the chield is.”