``Some folk think,'' said my companion, ``that
Mr Treddles might as weel have put my wife as
Christie Steele into the Treddles Arms, for Christie
had been aye in service, and never in the public
line, and so it's like she is ganging back in the
world, as I hear---now, my wife had keepit a
victualling office.''
``That would have been an advantage, certainly,''
I replied.
``But I am no sure that I wad ha' looten Eppie
take it, if they had put it in her offer.''
``That's a different consideration.''
``Ony way, I wadna ha' liked to have offended
Mr Treddles; he was a wee toustie when you
rubbed him again the hair---but a kind, weel-meaning
man.''
I wanted to get rid of this species of chat, and
finding myself near the entrance of a footpath
which made a short cut to Duntarkin, I put half-a-crown
into my guide's band, bade him good-evening,
and plunged into the woods.
``Hout, sir---fie, sir---no from the like of you---
stay, sir, ye wunna find the way that gate---Odd's
mercy, he maun ken the gate as weel as I do
mysell---weel, I wad like to ken wha the chield is.''
Such were the last words of my guide's drowsy,
uninteresting tone of voice; and glad to be rid of
him, I strode out stoutly, in despite of large stones,
briers, and _bad steps_, which abounded in the road
I had chosen.
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