But it was not so easy to quit Heathknowes. My grandmother held tightly to Duncan the Second. I found myself in good case, after the fatigues of the town, to carry out some work on my own account. This, of course, for the sake of my wife's happiness, I would have given up, but after all Irma's plans went to pieces upon the invincible determination of Sir Louis to remain. He was now a lad of seventeen, but older looking than his age. He had his own room at Heathknowes, his books, his occupations. Indeed we seldom saw him except at meals, and even then often in the middle of dinner he would rise, bow haughtily to the company, and retire without uttering a word. He had learned the lesson from Lalor that plain farm people were no society for such as he. He went as far as he could in the way of insolence, making us pay for the refusal of the lawyers to let him go to London with the member for the county. I could see the blush rise crimson to Irma's neck and face after such a performance. But by some mysterious divine law of compensation, no sooner had she Baby in her arms, than she forgot all about the sulky boy, sitting moping among his books in the wood parlour, looking out on the red-boled firs of Marnhoul forest. Israel Kinmont used to frequent us a good deal about this time. He never preached to us, nor indeed would he talk freely of his "experiences" amongst such Calvinists as my grandfather and grandmother. "The gold of the kingdom doth not need the refiner's art!" he had said once when this remissness was made a reproach to him. Since the loss of his boat, the _Tabernacle_, he had bought first one donkey and then two with his little savings. These he loaded with salt for Cairn Edward and the farms on the way, and so by a natural transition, took to the trade of itinerant voyager on land instead of on the sea, bringing back a store of such cloths and spices as were in most request among the goodwives of the farm-towns. He had been so long a sailor man that he could not help it, if a certain flavour of the brine clung to him still. Besides, there were jerseys and great sea-boots to be worn out. Neddy and Teddy, his two fine donkeys, were soon fitted with "steering gear," among the intricacies of which their active heels often got "foul." They "ran aground" with alarming frequency, scraping their pack-saddles against the walls of narrow lanes. Their master knew no peace of mind till, having passed the narrows, he found on some moor or common "plenty o' sea-room," notwithstanding the danger that "plenty o' sea-room" might induce the too artful Teddy to "turn topsails under," or in other words indulge in a roll upon the grass.