When they reached the drawing-room, his lordship out of breath with the long stair, they found Lady Joan teaching and Cosmo learning backgammon, which they immediately abandoned until they had him in his former chair, with a small table by him, on it the first bottle, and the fresh one at his feet before the fire: with the contents of one such inside him, and another coming on, he looked more cheerful than since first he entered the house. But a fluctuating trouble was very visible in his countenance notwithstanding. A few poverty-stricken attempts at conversation followed, to which Lord Mergwain contributed nothing. Lost in himself, he kept his eyes fixed on the ripening bottle, waiting with heroic self-denial, nor uttering a single audible oath, until the sound of its opening should herald the outbursting blossom of the nightly flower of existence. The thing hard to bear was, that there were no fresh wine-glasses on the table--only the one he had taken care to bring with the old bottle. Presently Grizzie came with the tea-things, and as she set them down, remarked, with cunningly devised look of unconsciousness: “It’s a gurly nicht; no a pinch o’ licht; an’ the win’ blawin’ like deevils; the Pooer o’ the air, he’s oot wi’ a rair, an’ the snaw rins roon’ upo’ sweevils.” “What do you mean, woman? Would you drive me mad with your gibberish?” cried his lordship, getting up, and going to the window. “Ow, na, my lord!” returned Grizzie quietly; “mad’s mad, but there’s waur nor mad.” “Grizzie!” said the laird, and she did not speak again. Lurking in Grizzie was the suspicion, less than latent in the minds of the few who had any memory of the old captain, that he had been robbed as well as murdered--though nothing had ever been missed that was known to belong to him, except indeed an odd walking-stick he used to carry; and if so, then the property, whatever it was, had been taken to the loss of his rightful heir, Warlock o’ Glenwarlock. Hence mainly arose Grizzie’s desire to play upon the fears of the English lord; for might he not be driven by terror to make restitution? Therefore, although obedient to the will of her master and leaving the room in silence, she cast on the old man, as she turned away, a look, which, in spite of the wine he had drunk, and the wine he hoped to drink, he felt freeze his very vitals--a look it was of inexplicable triumph, and inarticulate doom.