("By my troth, then, but that's queer aneuch!" here quoth Willie. "Wha the deil could hae tellt you that I was on the tramp, and that I was coming this way? My very dress described, too--'od, that's unaccountable.") "It's a queer notion that o' the man's wanderin aboot the country this way," here interposed the laird's wife. "I'm sure he maun meet wi' mony odd adventures whan he's on thae tramps." ("Deil a doot's o't--mony a ane; and that I hae met wi' the nicht's ane o' them. But what's strange in the notion o' me gaun aboot the country? How else could I mak a leevin o't?") "His faither had the same trick before him," replied the laird to his wife's remarks. ("That's a curst lie--my faither, honest man, was a douce, decent, sober-livin weaver.") "I reckon't, guidwife, a lucky thing that he has come oor way." ("Do ye, indeed!--then, feth, say do I.") "He'll no forget oor kindness, I dare say." ("The ne'er a bit o' that I'll do.") "And maybe he'll help us to oor ain again, frae the laird o' Haudthegrip." ("Wi' great pleasure. But hoo do you expect such a service as that frae the like o' me?") "I've heard o' his doin the like afore. But I say, guidwife, mind we maunna just let on barefacedly that we ken wha he is; for I can see, frae the way he took my hints the nicht, that he doesna like it. A' that I could do, I could na drive him into a corner on that subject. He aye shyed the question. Sae we maun tak nae mair notice o't; for ye ken kings are kittle cattle to deal wi'." ("Kings! Whar the deevil are ye noo, laird? What's a' this aboot?") "So they're said to be, John," replied the laird's better half; "and I think the less we hae to do wi' them the better." ("My feth, ye're richt there, guidwife, as I ken to my cost. I was ance very near hanged by the king by mistake, amang a wheen Border rievers that he strung up. The rope was aboot my neck before he wad listen to my story, or be convinced that I wasna ane o' the gang.") "This is the first night," continued the laird's wife, "ever a king was under my roof, and I hope it'll be the last." Here we must interrupt the dialogue for a moment to say that it would have done any man's heart good to have seen the expression of Willie's countenance when this last sentence reached his ear. The painter's art alone could convey a correct idea of the look of perplexity and amazement which it exhibited. A glimmering of the facts of that singular case which will shortly be made to appear plain enough, began to break in upon him. But, as he could not yet entirely trust to its feeble light--in other words, could not believe what he heard, or rather could not believe that it applied to him--he lay as still as death, scarcely daring to breathe till he should gather something more regarding the strange insinuation that had just reached him; and for this he had not long to wait.