"Who and what are you?" she asked, laying her hand on the railing that encircled the landing of the steps.
That question was so seldom put to him that it struck him unawares, like a stone from behind a hedge. He hesitated.
"A've got news for yer leddyship," he began.
"I asked your name," said Madam Flemington.
"Wattie Caird," replied he. "Skirling Wattie, they ca' me."
The countryside and its inhabitants did not appeal to Christian, but this amazing intruder was like no one she had ever seen before. She guessed that he was a beggar, and she brushed aside his announcement of news as merely a method of attracting attention.
"You are one of the few persons in these parts who can afford to keep a coach," she remarked.
A broad smile overspread his ribald countenance, like the sun irradiating a public-house.
"Dod, ma leddy, a'd think shame to visit ye on fut," said he, with a wag of his head.
"You have better reasons than that," she replied rather grimly.
"Aye, aye, they're baith awa'," said he, looking at the place where his legs should have been. "A'm an ill sicht for the soutars!"
She threw back her head and laughed a little.
She had seen no one for months, with the exception of Archie, who was so quick in mind and speech, and the humour of this vagabond on wheels took her fancy. There was no whining servility about him, in spite of his obvious profession.
The horrified face of a maidservant appeared for one moment at a window, then vanished, struck back by the unblessed sight of her mistress, that paralyzing, unapproachable power, jesting, apparently, with Skirling Wattie, the lowest of the low. The girl was a native of Forfar, the westernmost point of the beggar's travels, and she had often seen him in the streets.
"You face life boldly," said Madam Flemington.
"An' what for no? Fegs, greetin' fills naebody's kyte."*[*Stomach.]
"You shall fill yours handsomely," said she; "go to the other door and I will send orders to the women to attend to you."
"Aye, will I," he exclaimed, "but it wasna' just for a piece that a' cam' a' the way frae the muir o' Rossie."
"The muir o' Rossie," repeated he. "Ma leddy, it was awa' yonder at the tail o' the muir that a' tell't Maister Flemington the road to Aberbrothock."