“It’s no a laughing matter,” said she bitterly. “Bit hear me oot, and I care na what coms o’ me after! Weel, towerds the glooming then, sure enough, a boat cam fray the ship at we had seen nigh to the shore aw day; and it pot in amang the rocks, just below the woody cliff yonder. And up the sailor-men com, bowling through aw the shrubbery walks, and doon they carried aw the kists and boxes.” The Earl and Lauson looked at each other: there was no ejaculation strong enough for this climax. “And when they were tacking oot the last o’ them,” continued Mrs. M’Kinley, “I followed mysel through the trees, as far as the view seat, and sat mysel doon; and by cam Maister Lauson.” “I’ll prosecute you if you use my name,” said Lauson. “As he cawd himsel at least,” she added. “So, Mrs. M’Kinley,” he said, “I am going with the ship mysel, to see all safe,” and he passed on. “Weel, I looked after him, and after the kists, and doon on the water, for the moon was up, and all was clear as day; and the ship was lying, and I seed the boat put fray the land and gey toward it; and I seed the kists quite plain, lifted oot on the boat, and drawd up the side o’ the ship, ain by ain, till I coonted the last on them; and then they drawd up the boat also. A weel, a weel, thought I, and noo it’s aw ower, it’s been a queer sudden business, amaist like tle a dream. And I gade back ti the hoose; and found Jean sweeping up the strey; and sae I helped her to shut the doors and the windows; and we sat doon by the fire, and thought the hoose mayne lanely like, (the men folk was no com in tle their suppers) than we had thought it, aw the years at we had had the care on’t.” “You should certainly have shut your doors and windows a little sooner, my good woman!” said the Earl. “Here’s locking the stable when the steed is stolen, with the vengeance,” said Lauson. “Hear ye te that, noo!” cried Mrs. M’Kinley, “hoo he threeps me doon; just as if I was na wratched enu awready. It’s easy prophesying when the prophesy is oot! I may be feul, and mad, and aw the rest on’t; bit I’m no sick a feul at I need to be talt noo, at the things wad aw be better i’their places, nor i’ the hands o’a thief and a robber! Bit hoo was I to ken at he was a thief? Did’na he caw himself Maister Lauson, and I kent at his lordship did’na think ye a thief, or he wad’na ha’ geen ye his business.” “Don’t be noisy, my good woman,” said the Earl, but mildly; for he made charitable allowance for the excited state of her feelings. “And pray when did all this happen?” he continued. “Aboot a month syne,” she replied. “Bit the receipts will show.” “What receipts?” asked Lauson.