But that, in part through the influence of Mr Graham, the
schoolmaster, he had learned to keep a firm hold on the reins of
action, this foolish feeling would not unfrequently have hurried
him into conduct undignified. On the present occasion, I fear the
main part of his answer, but for the shield of the door, would have
been a blow to fell a bigger man than the one that now glared at
him through the shoe broad opening. As it was, his words were fierce
with suppressed wrath.
"Open the door, an' lat me in," was, however, all he said.
"What's your business?" asked the man, on whom his tone had its
effect.
"My business is with my Lady Lossie," said Malcolm, recovering his
English, which was one step towards mastering, if not recovering,
his temper.
"You can't see her. She's at dinner."
"Let me in, and I'll wait. I come from Lossie House."
"Take away your foot and I'll go and see," said the man.
"No. You open the door," returned Malcolm.
The man's answer was an attempt to kick his foot out of the doorway.
If he were to let in a tramp, what would the butler say?
But thereupon Malcolm set his port vent to his mouth, rapidly
filled his bag, while the man stared as if it were a petard with
which he was about to blow the door to shivers, and then sent from
the instrument such a shriek, as it galloped off into the Lossie
Gathering, that involuntarily his adversary pressed both hands to
his ears.
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