When Claud first proposed the marriage to Kilmarkeckle, it was intended that the young couple should reside at Plealands; but an opportunity had occurred, in the meantime, for Mr. Keelevin to intimate to Mr. Auchincloss, the gentleman who possessed the two farms, which, with the Grippy, constituted the ancient estate of Kittlestonheugh, that Mr. Walkinshaw would be glad to make an excambio with him, and not only give Plealands, but even a considerable inducement in money. This proposal, particularly the latter part of it, was agreeable to Mr. Auchincloss, who, at the time, stood in want of ready money to establish one of his sons in the Virginian trade; and, in consequence, the negotiation was soon speedily brought to a satisfactory termination.

But, in this affair, Grippy did not think fit to confer with any of his sons. He was averse to speak to Charles on the subject, possibly from some feeling connected with the deed of entail; and, it is unnecessary to say, that, although Walter was really principal in the business, he had no regard for what his opinion might be. The consequence of which was, that the bridegroom was not a little amazed to find, next day, on proposing to ride the Brous to his own house at Plealands, and to hold the infare there, that it was intended to be assigned to Mr. Auchincloss, and that, as soon as his family were removed thither, the house of Divethill, one of the exchanged farms, would be set in order for him in its stead.

The moment that this explanation was given to Walter, he remembered the parchments which he had signed, and the agitation of his father on the way home, and he made no scruple of loudly and bitterly declaring, with many a lusty sob, that he was cheated out of his inheritance by his father and Charles. The old man was confounded at this view which the natural plausibly enough took of the arrangement; but yet, anxious to conceal from his first-born the injustice with which he had used him in the entail, he at first attempted to silence Walter by threats, and then to cajole him with promises, but without effect; at last, so high did the conflict rise between them, that Leddy Grippy and Walter’s wife came into the room to inquire what had happened.

‘O Betty Bodle!’ exclaimed Walter, the moment he saw them; ‘what are we to do? My father has beguiled me o’ the Plealands, and I hae neither house nor ha’ to tak you to. He has gart me wise it awa to Charlie, and we’ll hae nathing as lang as Kilmarkeckle lives, but scant and want and beggary. It’s no my fau’t, Betty Bodle, that ye’ll hae to work for your daily bread, the sin o’t a’ is my father’s. But I’ll help you a’ I can, Betty, and if ye turn a washerwoman on the Green of Glasgow, I’ll carry your boynes, and water your claes, and watch them, that ye may sleep when ye’re weary’t, Betty Bodle,—for though he’s a false father, I’ll be a true gudeman.’

Betty Bodle sat down in a chair, with her back to the window, and Walter, going to her, hung over her with an air of kindness, which his simplicity rendered at once affecting and tender; while Leddy Grippy, petrified by what she heard, also sat down, and, leaning herself back in her seat, with a look of amazement, held her arms streaked down by her side, with all her fingers stretched and spread to the utmost. Claud himself was for a moment overawed, and had almost lost his wonted self-possession, at the just accusation of being a false father; but, exerting all his firmness and fortitude, he said calmly,—

‘I canna bear this at thy hand, Watty. I hae secured for thee far mair than the Plealands; and is the satisfaction that I thought to hae had this day, noo when I hae made a conquest of the lands o’ my forefathers, to be turned into sadness and bitterness o’ heart?’

‘What hae ye secur’d?’ exclaimed Leddy Grippy. ‘Is na it ordaint that Charlie, by his birthright, will get your lands? How is’t then that ye hae wrang’t Watty of his ain? the braw property that my worthy father left him both by will and testament. An he had been to the fore, ye durst na, gudeman, hae played at sic jookery-pookery; for he had a skill o’ law, and kent the kittle points in a manner that ye can never fathom; weel wat I, that your ellwand would hae been a jimp measure to the sauvendie o’ his books and Latin taliations. But, gudeman, ye’s no get a’ your ain way. I’ll put on my cloak, and, Betty Bodle, put on yours, and Watty, my ill-used bairn, get your hat. We’ll oure for Kilmarkeckle, and gang a’ to Mr. Keelevin together to make an interlocutor about this most dreadful extortioning.’

The old man absolutely shuddered; his face became yellow, and his lips white with anger and vexation at this speech.

‘Girzy Hypel,’ said he, with a troubled and broken voice, ‘were t’ou a woman o’ understanding, or had t’at haverel get o’ thine the gumtion o’ a sucking turkey, I could speak, and confound your injustice, were I no restrained by a sense of my own shame.’

‘But what’s a’ this stoor about?’ said the young wife, addressing herself to her father-in-law. ‘Surely ye’ll no objek to mak me the wiser?’

‘No, my dear,’ replied Claud, ‘I hope I can speak and be understood by thee. I hae gotten Mr. Auchincloss to mak an excambio of the Divethill for the Plealands, by the whilk the whole of the Kittlestonheugh patrimony will be redeemed to the family; and I intend and wis you and Watty to live at the Divethill, our neighbours here, and your father’s neighbours; that, my bairn, is the whole straemash.’

‘But,’ said she, ‘when ye’re dead, will we still hae the Divethill?’

‘No doubt o’ that, my dawty,’ said the old man delighted; ‘and even far mair.’

‘Then, Watty Walkinshaw, ye gaumeril,’ said she, addressing her husband, ‘what would ye be at?—Your father’s a most just man, and will do you and a’ his weans justice.’

‘But, for a’ that,’ said Leddy Grippy to her husband, somewhat bamboozled by the view which her daughter-in-law seemed to take of the subject, ‘when will we hear o’ you giving hundreds o’ pounds to Watty, as ye did to Charlie, for a matrimonial hansel?’

‘I’m sure,’ replied the Laird, ‘were the like o’ that to quiet thy unruly member, Girzy, and be any satisfaction to thee, that I hae done my full duty to Walter, a five score pound should na be wanting to stap up the gap.’

‘I’ll tell you what it is, father,’ interrupted Walter, ‘if ye’ll gie the whole soom o’ a hunder pound, I care na gin ye mak drammock o’ the Plealands.’

‘A bargain be’t,’ said Claud, happy to be relieved from their importunity; but he added, with particular emphasis, to Watty’s wife,—

‘Dinna ye tak ony care about what’s passed; the Divethill’s a good excambio for the Plealands, and it sall be bound as stiffly as law and statute can tether to you and your heirs by Walter.’

Thus so far Grippy continued to sail before the wind, and, perhaps, in the steady pursuit of his object, he met with as few serious obstacles as most adventurers. What sacrifice of internal feeling he may have made, may be known hereafter. In the meantime, the secrets and mysteries of his bosom were never divulged; but all his thoughts and anxieties as carefully hidden from the world as if the disclosure of them would have brought shame on himself. Events, however, press; and we must proceed with the current of our history.