“The bottle is empty,” replied his lordship, gruffly, as if reproaching his host for not being aware of the fact, and having another at hand to follow. “Then--” said the laird, and hesitated. “Then you’ll fetch me another!” adjoined his lordship, as if answering an unpropounded question that ought not to be put. Seeing, however, that the laird stood in some hesitation still, he added definitively, “I don’t stir a peg without it. Get me another bottle--another _magnum_, I mean, and I will go at once.” Yet a moment the laird reflected. He said to himself that the wretched man had not had nearly so much to drink that day as he had the day before; that he was used to soaking, and a great diminution of his customary quantity might in its way be dangerous; and that anyhow it was not for him to order the regimen of a passing guest, to whom first of all he owed hospitality. “I will fetch it, my lord,” he said, and disappeared in the milk-cellar, from which a steep stone-stair led down to the ancient dungeon. “The maister’s gane wantin’ a licht,” muttered Grizzie; “I houp he winna see onything.” It was an enigmatical utterance, and angered Lord Mergwain. “What the deuce should he see, when he has got to feel his way with his hands?” he snarled. “There’s some things, my lord, ’at can better affoord to come oot i’ the dark nor the licht,” replied Grizzie. His lordship said nothing in rejoinder, but kept looking every now and then towards the door of the milk-cellar--whether solely in anxiety for the appearance of the magnum, may be doubtful. The moment the laird emerged from his dive into darkness, bearing with him the pearl-oyster of its deep, his lordship rose, proud that for an old man he could stand so steady, and straightened himself up to his full height, which was not great. The laird set down the bottle on the table, and proceeded to wrap him in a plaid, that he might not get a chill, nor heeded that his lordship, instead of showing recognition of his care, conducted himself like an ill-conditioned child, to whom his mother’s ministrations are unwelcome. But he did not resist, he only grumbled. As soon as the process was finished, he caught up the first bottle, in which, notwithstanding his assertion, he knew there was yet a glass or two, while the laird resumed the greater burden of the second, and gave his guest an arm, and Grizzie, leaving the door open to cast a little light on their way, followed close behind, to see them safe in.