the mare laid back her ears and made a vicious snap at nothing in particular.
"She was a favourite o' my — maister, the marquis," returned the youth, "an' I wad ill like to pairt wi' her."
"I'll take any offer in reason for her," said the factor. "You'll just ride her to Forres market next week, and see what you can get for her. I do think she's quieter since you took her in hand."
"I'm sure she is — but it winna laist a day. The moment I lea' her, she'll be as ill's ever," said the youth. "She has a kin' a likin' to me, 'cause I gi'e her sugar, an' she canna cast me; but she's no a bit better i' the hert o' her yet. She's an oonsanctifeed brute. I cudna think o' sellin' her like this."
"Lat them 'at buys tak' tent (beware)," said the factor.
"Ow ay! lat them; I dinna objec'; gien only they ken what she's like afore they buy her," rejoined Malcolm.
The factor burst out laughing. To his judgment the youth had spoken like an idiot.
"We'll not send you to sell," he said. "Stoat shall go with you, and you shall have nothing to do but hold the mare and your own tongue."
"Sir," said Malcolm, seriously, "ye dinna mean what ye say? Ye said yersel' she wad be the deith o' somebody, an' to sell her ohn tellt what she's like wad be to caw the saxt comman'ment clean to shivers."
"That may be good doctrine in the kirk, my lad, but it's pure heresy in the horse market. No, no! You buy a horse as you take a wife — for better for worse, as the case may be. A woman's not bound to tell her faults when a man wants to marry her. If she keeps off the worst of them afterwards, it's all he has a right to look for."
"Hoot, sir! there's no a pair o' parallel lines in a' the compairison," returned Malcolm. "Mistress Kelpie here 's e'en ower ready to confess her fauts, an' that by giein' a taste o' them — she winna bide to be speired; but for haudin' aff o' them efter the bargain's made — ye ken she's no even responsible for the bargain. An' gien ye expec' me to haud my tongue aboot them — faith, Maister Crathie, I wad as sune think o' sellin' a rotten boat to Blue Peter. Gien the man 'at has her to see tilt dinna ken to luik oot for a storm o' iron shune or lang teeth ony moment, his wife may be a widow that same market-nicht. An' forbye, it's again' the aucht comman'ment as weel's the saxt. There's nae exception there in regaird o' horse flesh. We maun be honest i' that as weel's i' corn or herrin', or onything ither 'at 's coft an' sell't atween man an' his neibor."
"There's one commandment, my lad," said Mr Crathie, with the dignity of intended rebuke, "you seem to find hard to learn, and that is, to mind your own business."
"Gien ye mean catchin' the herrin', maybe ye're richt," said the youth. "I ken muir about that nor the horse-coupin', and it's full cleaner."
"None of your impudence!" returned the factor. "The marquis is not here to uphold you in your follies. That they amused him is no reason why I should put up with them. So keep your tongue between your teeth, or you'll find it the worse for you." The youth smiled a little oddly, and held his peace. "You're here to do what I tell you, and make no remarks," added the factor.
"I'm awaur o' that, sir — within certain leemits," returned Malcolm.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean within the leemits o' duin' by yer neibor as ye wad hae yer neibor du by you — that's what I mean, sir."
"I've told you already that doesn't apply in horse-dealing. Every man has to take care of himself in the horse market. That's understood. If you had been brought up amongst horses instead of herring, you would have known that as well as any other man."
"I doobt I'll hae to gang back to the herrin' than, sir, for they're like to pruv' the honester o' the twa. But there's nae hypocrisy in Kelpie, an' she maun hae her day's denner, come o' the morn's what may."
At the word hypocrisy, Mr Crathie's face grew red as the sun in a fog. He was an elder of the kirk, and had family worship every night as regularly as his toddy: the word was as offensive and insolent as it was foolish and inapplicable. He would have turned Malcolm adrift on the spot, but that he remembered — not the favour of the late marquis for the lad — that was nothing to the factor now: his lord under the mould was to him as if he had never been above it — but the favour of the present marchioness, for all in the house knew that she was interested in him. Choking down therefore his rage and indignation, he said sternly, "Malcolm, you have two enemies — a long tongue, and a strong conceit. You have little enough to be proud of, my man, and the less said the better. I advise you to mind
