"Now, I 'm going to show you the library," she said.

"Thank ye, my leddy; that will be gran'!" replied Malcolm.

He followed her up two staircases, and through more than one long narrow pa.s.sage: all the ducts of the house were long and narrow, causing him a sense of imprisonment--vanishing ever into freedom at the opening of some door into a great room. But never had be had a dream of such a room as that at which they now arrived. He started with a sort of marvelling dismay when she threw open the door of the library, and he beheld ten thousand volumes at a glance, all in solemn stillness. It was like a sepulchre of kings. But his astonishment took a strange form of expression, the thought in which was beyond the reach of his mistress.

"Eh, my leddy!" he cried, after staring for a while in breathless bewilderment, "it's jist like a byke o' frozen bees! Eh! gien they war a' to come to life an' stick their stangs o' trowth intill a body, the waukin' up wad be awfu'!--It jist gars my heid gang roon'!" he added, after a pause.

"It is a fine thing," said the girl, "to have such a library."

"'Deed is 't, my leddy! It's ane o' the preevileeges o' rank,"

said Malcolm. "It taks a faimily that hauds on throu' centeries in a hoose whaur things gether, to mak sic an unacc.o.o.ntable getherin'

o' buiks as that. It's a gran' sicht--worth livin' to see."

"Suppose you were to be a rich man some day," said Florimel, in the condescending tone she generally adopted when addressing him, "it would be one of the first things you would set about--wouldn't it--to get such a library together?"

"Na, my leddy; I wad hae mair wut. A leebrary canna be made a' at ance, ony mair nor a hoose, or a nation, or a muckle tree: they maun a' tak time to grow, an' sae maun a leebrary. I wadna even ken what buiks to gang an' speir for. I daursay, gien I war to try, I cudna at a moment's notice tell ye the names o' mair nor a twa score o' buiks at the ootside. Fowk maun mak acquantance amo' buiks as they wad amo' leevin' fowk."

"But you could get somebody who knew more about them than yourself to buy for you."

"I wad as sune think o' gettin' somebody to ate my denner for me."

"No, that's not fair," said Florimel. "It would only be like getting somebody who knew more of cookery than yourself, to order your dinner for you."

"Ye 're richt, my leddy; but still I wad as sune think o' the tane 's the t.i.ther. What wad come o' the like o' me, div ye think, broucht up upo' meal brose, an' herrin', gien ye was to set me doon to sic a denner as my lord, yer father, wad ait ilka day, an'

think naething o'? But gien some fowk hed the buyin' o' my buiks, I'm thinkin' the first thing I wad hae to du, wad be to fling the half o' them into the burn."

"What good would that do?"

"Clear awa' the rubb.i.t.c.h. Ye see, my leddy, it's no buiks, but what buiks. Eh! there maun be mony ane o' the richt sort here, though.

I wonner gien Mr Graham ever saw them. He wad surely hae made mention o them i' my hearin'!"

"What would be the first thing you would do, then, Malcolm, if you happened to turn out a great man after all?" said Florimel, seating herself in a huge library chair, whence, having arranged her skirt, she looked up in the young fisherman's face.

"I doobt I wad hae to sit doon, an' turn ower the change a feow times afore I kent aither mysel' or what wad become me," he said.

"That's not answering my question," retorted Florimel.

"Weel, the second thing I wad du," said Malcolm, thoughtfully, and pausing a moment, "wad be to get Mr Graham to gang wi' me to Ebberdeen, an' cairry me throu' the cla.s.ses there. Of coorse, I wadna try for prizes; that wadna be fair to them 'at cudna affoord a tutor at their lodgin's."

"But it's the first thing you would do that I want to know,"

persisted the girl.

"I tell't ye I wad sit doon an' think aboot it."

"I don't count that doing anything."

"'Deed, my leddy! thinkin 's the hardest wark I ken."

"Well, what is it you would think about first?" said Florimel-- not to be diverted from her course.

"Ow, the third thing I wad du--"

"I want to know the first thing you would think about."

"I canna say yet what the third thing wad be. Fower year at the college wad gie me time to reflec upon a hantle o' things."

"I insist on knowing the first thing you would think about doing,"

cried Florimel, with mock imperiousness, but real tyranny.

"Weel, my leddy, gien ye wull hae 't--but hoo great a man wad ye be makin' o' me?"

"Oh!--let me see;--yes--yes--the heir to an earldom.-- That's liberal enough--is it not?"

"That 's as muckle as say I wad come to be a yerl some day, sae be I didna dee upo' the ro'd?"

"Yes--that's what it means."

"An' a yerl's neist door till a markis--isna he?"

"Yes--he's in the next lower rank."

"Lower?--Ay!--No that muckle, maybe?"

"No," said Lady Florimel consequentially; "the difference is not so great as to prevent their meeting on a level of courtesy."

"I dinna freely ken what that means; but gien 't be yer leddyship's wull to mak a yerl o' me, I'm no to raise ony objections."

He uttered it definitively, and stood silent.

"Well?" said the girl.

"What's yer wull, my leddy?" returned Malcolm, as if roused from a reverie.

"Where's your answer?"

"I said I wad be a yerl to please yer leddyship.--I wad be a flunky for the same rizzon, gien 't was to wait upo' yersel' an'

nae ither."

"I ask you," said Florimel, more imperiously than ever, "what is the first thing you would do, if you found yourself no longer a fisherman, but the son of an earl?"

"But it maun be that I was a fisherman--to the en' o' a' creation, my leddy."

"You refuse to answer my question?"

"By no means, my leddy, gien ye wull hae an answer."

"I will have an answer."

"Gien ye wull hae 't than--But--"