In a few seconds a cunning smile stole over his lips.
'Wal, Davy, yo're in luck.

He's noan so onwillin, we'st ha him here in a twinklin.

Yo may coe him mony things, but yo conno coe him proud.

Noa, as I've fund him, Charles Stuart has no soart o' pride about him.

Aye, theer yo are! Sir, your Majesty's obleeged an humble servant!' And, raising his hand to his hat, the old man took it off and swept it round with a courtly deliberation.