"You don't remember me, apparently," Walter said. "No, I cannot just say that I do; and yet I've seen your face before," said Duncan, with a curious look. "Never mind that. I want you to tell me if you are contented now, and happy in your glen--now that you are free of all your trouble about rent?" Duncan's first impulse was to say, What is that to you, I would like to ken? But the words had already set the slower mechanism of his brain to work; and, after a moment, he took his blue bonnet from his head, and with a bow in which there was a certain rustic dignity, said-- "You'll be the laird, my Lord Erradeen? I have good cause to ken your face that was once to us all just like the face of an angel out o' heaven." "You make too much of it," said Walter, with a smile; for the expression pleased him in spite of himself. "No one could have done otherwise in my place." "The auld wives," said Duncan, with a little huskiness in his throat, "do not think sae, sir. They mind you at their Books, morning and night." Walter did not know very well what "minding him at the Books" meant; but he guessed that somehow or other it must refer to prayers; and he said somewhat lightly-- "Do you think that will do me much good?" Duncan's honest face turned upon him a look of displeasure. The hill-side patriarch put on his bonnet gravely. "It should, if there's truth in Scripture," he said, somewhat sternly; "but nae doubt it is just one of the most awfu' mysteries how a wilful soul will baffle baith God's goodwill and gude folk's prayers." This was so curiously unlike anything he had expected, that Lord Erradeen gave his humble monitor one startled glance, and for the moment was silenced. He resumed, however, a minute after, feeling a certain invigoration come to him from his contact with simple nature. "I acknowledge," he said, "though you are a little hard upon me, Fraser, that I have brought this on myself. But I want to know about you, how things are going. Are you satisfied with your position now? And is everything made smooth for you by the remittal of the rent?" At this Duncan became in his turn confused. "Nae doubt," he said, "it has been a great help, sir--my lord. Ye'll excuse me, but I'm little used to lordships, and I canna get my mouth about it." "Never mind my lordship. I want to know the real truth. Your minister has been talking to me about Thomson--the man at the farm." Walter pointed vaguely to the hill-side, having no idea where Peter Thomson's farm was, about which so much had been said. "He has been sent away while you have stayed. Let me know which has been the best." Duncan looked more embarrassed than ever, and shuffled from one foot to the other, looking down upon the wet and brilliant green of the grass on which he stood. "We were all muckle obliged to you, my lord; and no one of us has grudged to say sae," he said. "But that is not the question," Walter cried, with a little impatience.