The yellow book: an illustrated quarterly (9.1896)

194 A Journey of Little Profit

whigmaleeries that folk think ornamental. But nobody was
there, so I made for the staircase which was at the further side,
and went up it stoutly. I made scarce any noise so thickly was
it carpeted, and I will own it kind of terrified me to be walking
in such a place. But when a man has drunk well he is troubled
not overmuckle with modesty or fear, so I e’en stepped out and
soon came to a landing where was a door.

“Now, thinks I, at last I have won to the habitable parts of
the house; so laying my finger on the sneck I lifted it and
entered. And there before me was the finest room in all the world ;
indeed I abate not a jot of the phrase, for I cannot think of any-
thing finer. It was hung with braw pictures and lined with big
bookcases of oak well-filled with books in fine bindings. The
furnishing seemed carved by a skilled hand, and the cushions and
curtains were soft velvet. But the best thing was the table, which
was covered with a clean white cloth and set with all kind of good
meat and drink. The dishes were of silver and as bright as Loch
Awe water in an April sun. Eh, but it was a braw braw sight
for a drover ! And there at the far end, with a great pottle of
wine before him, sat the master.

“ He rose as I entered, and I saw him to be dressed in the pink
of town fashion, a man of maybe fifty years, but hale and well-
looking, with a peaked beard and trimmed moustache and thick
eyebrows. His eyes were slanted a thought, which is a thing I
hate in any man, but his whole appearance was pleasing.

“‘ Mr. Stewart ? ’ says he courteously, looking at me. ‘ Is it
Mr. Duncan Stewart that I will be indebted to for the honour of
this visit ? ’

“ I stared at him blankly, for how did he ken my name ?

“‘That is my name,’ I said, ‘but who the tevil tell’t you
about it ? ’

“‘Oh,.