“Ta turk went trough it, Malcolm! It went into ta table! She knows now! O Malcolm! Malcolm! would to Cod she had killed herself pefore she hurted her poy!” He made Malcolm sit down beside him, and taking the wounded hand in both of his, sunk into a deep silence, utterly forgetful of the presence of Lady Florimel, who retired to her chair, kept silence also, and waited. “It was not a coot choke,” he murmured at length, “upon an honest man, and might pe calling herself a chentleman. A rache is not a choke. To put her in a rache was not coot. See to it. And it was a ferry paad choke, too, to make a pig hole in her poor pag! Och hone! och hone!--Put I’m clad Clenlyon was not there, for she was too plind to kill him.” “But you will surely forgive my father, when he wants to make it up! Those pipes have been in the family for hundreds of years,” said Florimel. “Her own pipes has peen in her own family for five or six chenerations at least,” said Duncan. “--And she was wondering why her poy tidn’t pe mending her pag! My poor poy! Och hone! Och hone!” “We’ll get a new bag, daddy,” said Malcolm. “It’s been lang past men’in’ wi’ auld age.” “And then you will be able to play together,” urged Lady Florimel. Duncan’s resolution was visibly shaken by the suggestion. He pondered for a while. At last he opened his mouth solemnly, and said, with the air of one who had found a way out of a hitherto impassable jungle of difficulty: “If her lord marquis will come to Tuncan’s house, and say to Tuncan it was put a choke and he is sorry for it, then Tuncan will shake hands with ta marquis, and take ta pipes.” A smile of pleasure lighted up Malcolm’s face at the proud proposal. Lady Florimel smiled also, but with amusement. “Will my laty take Tuncan’s message to my lord, ta marquis?” asked the old man. Now Lady Florimel had inherited her father’s joy in teasing; and the thought of carrying him such an overture was irresistibly delightful. “I will take it,” she said. “But what if he should be angry?” “If her lord pe angry, Tuncan is angry too,” answered the piper. Malcolm followed Lady Florimel to the door. “Put it as saft as ye can, my leddy,” he whispered. “I canna bide to anger fowk mair than maun be.” “I shall give the message precisely as your grandfather gave it to me,” said Florimel, and walked away. While they sat at dinner the next evening, she told her father from the head of the table, all about her visit to the piper, and ended with the announcement of the condition--word for word-- on which the old man would consent to a reconciliation.