’And is that a’?’ she said, with a laugh. ’Is that a’ the money’s wanted for—to guarantee the honesty o’ one o’ the Strangs o’ Whittermains? Weel, I’m no a rich woman, Ronald—for my money’s maistly sunk in the tavern—and doing weel enough there too—but if it’s a surety ye want, for three hunder pounds, ay, or five hunder pounds, just you come to me, and the deil’s in’t if we canna manage it somehow.’ ’I thank ye for the offer anyway; I’m sure you mean it,’ said he. ’That lawyer o’ mine,’ she continued, ’is a dour chiel; he’ll no let me do this; and he’s grumbling at that; and a poor widow woman is supposed to hae nae soul o’ her ain. I’m sure the fuss that he makes about that cob, and only fifty-five guineas, and come o’ the best Clydesdale stock——’ ’But it was no the expense, it was no the expense, Katie dear,’ whined the old woman, ’it was the risk to your life frae sae high-mettled a beast. Just think o’t, at your time o’ life, wi’ a grand business, and yoursel’ the manager o’ it, and wi’ sae mony freends, think what it would be if ye broke your neck——’ ’Broke your grandmother’s fiddlestrings!’ said she. ’The beast’s as quiet’s a lamb. But that auld man, Peter Gunn. I suppose he’s a good lawyer—indeed, every one says that—but he’s as pernickety as an auld woman; and he’d mak’ ye think the world was made o’ silk paper, and ye daurna stir a step for fear o’ fa’in through. But you just give me the word, Ronald, when the security’s wanted; and we’ll see if auld Peter can hinder me frae doing what I ought to do for one o’ my own kith and kin.’ They were thus talking when there came a knock at the outer door; then there was a clamour of voices in the little lobby; and presently there were ushered into the room three visitors, who were forthwith introduced to Ronald, with a few words of facetious playfulness from the widow. There was first a Mr. Jaap, a little old man with Jewish features, bald on the top of his head, but with long, flowing gray hair behind; a mild-looking old man, but with merry eyes nevertheless—and indeed all of them seemed to have been joking as they came in. Then there was a Mr. Laidlaw, a younger man, of middle height, and of a horsey type; stupid-looking, rather, but not ill-natured. The third was Captain M’Taggart, a large heavy man, with a vast, radiant, Bardolphian face, whose small, shrewd, twinkling blue eyes had the expression rather of a Clyde skipper given to rough jesting and steady rum-drinking (and he was all that) than of the high-souled, child-hearted sailor of romance. ’Sit ye down, sit ye down,’ their hostess said gaily. ’Here, captain, is a job for ye; here’s the punch-bowl that we only have on great days, ye ken; and your brew is famous—whether wi’ old Jamaica or Long John. Set to work now—here’s the sugar and the lemons ready for ye—for ye maun a’ drink the health o’ my cousin here that’s come frae Sutherland.’