Much as she was neglected at home, however, Annie was steadily gaining
a good reputation in the town. Old men said she was a gude bairn, and
old women said she was a douce lassie; while those who enjoyed finding
fault more than giving praise, turned their silent approbation of Annie
into expressions of disapproval of the Bruces--"lattin' her gang like a
beggar, as gin she was no kith or kin o' theirs, whan it's weel kent
whase heifer Rob Bruce is plooin' wi'."
But Robert nevertheless grew and prospered all day, and dreamed at
night that he was the king, digging the pits for the English cavalry,
and covering them again with the treacherous turf. Somehow the dream
never went further. The field and the kingship would vanish and he only
remain, the same Robert Bruce, the general dealer, plotting still, but
in his own shop.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
Responsive to Mr Cupples's last words uttered from the brink of the pit
into which his spirit was sinking, and probably forgotten straightway,
Alec knocked at his door upon the Sunday evening, and entered. The
strange creature was sitting in the same position as before, looking as
if he had not risen since he spoke those words.
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