"Your father was very fond of his meat, I mind; he was a hearty, if not a great eater; but as for me, I could never do mair than pyke at food." He took a pull at the small beer, which probably reminded him of hospitable duties, for his next speech ran thus: "If ye're dry ye'll find water behind the door." To this I returned no answer, standing stiffly on my two feet, and looking down upon my uncle with a mighty angry heart.

He, on his part, continued to eat like a man under some pressure of time, and to throw out little darting glances now at my shoes and now at my home-spun stockings.

Once only, when he had ventured to look a little higher, our eyes met; and no thief taken with a hand in a man's pocket could have shown more lively signals of distress.

This set me in a muse, whether his timidity arose from too long a disuse of any human company; and whether perhaps, upon a little trial, it might pass off, and my uncle change into an altogether different man.

From this I was awakened by his sharp voice.
"Your father's been long dead ?" he asked.
"Three weeks, sir," said I.
"He was a secret man, Alexander--a secret, silent man," he continued.
"He never said muckle when he was young.