'You here, Robert!' he said.
'Yes, I'm here. Have you seen her yet? Is she here?'
'Wha do ye think 's speakin' till her this verra minute? Look
there!' Shargar said in a low voice, suppressed yet more to hide
his excitement.
Following his directions, Robert saw, amidst a little group of
gentlemen surrounding a seated lady, of whose face he could not get
a peep, a handsome elderly man, who looked more fashionable than his
years justified, and whose countenance had an expression which he
felt repulsive. He thought he had seen him before, but Shargar gave
him no time to come to a conclusion of himself.
'It's my brither Sandy, as sure 's deith!' he said; 'and he's been
hingin' aboot her ever sin' she cam in. But I dinna think she likes
him a'thegither by the leuk o' her.'
'What for dinna ye gang up till her yersel', man? I wadna stan'
that gin 'twas me.'
'I'm feared 'at he ken me. He's terrible gleg. A' the Morays are
gleg, and yon marquis has an ee like a hawk.'
'What does 't maitter? Ye hae dune naething to be ashamed o' like
him.'
'Ay; but it's this. I wadna hae her hear the trowth aboot me frae
that boar's mou' o' his first. I wad hae her hear 't frae my ain,
an' syne she canna think I meant to tak her in.'
At this moment there was a movement in the group. Shargar,
receiving no reply, looked round at Robert. It was now Shargar's
turn to be surprised at his expression.
'Are ye seein' a vraith, Robert?' he said.
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