receive her expected guests; but returned in an instant, followed by the postillion—"No, they canna come at no rate, the Laird's sae ill."
"But God help them," said the landlady, "the morn's the term—the very last day they can bide in the house—a' thing's to be roupit."
"Weel, but they can come at no rate I tell ye—Mr Bertram canna be moved."
"What Mr Bertram?" said the stranger; "not Mr Bertram of Ellangowan, I hope?"
"Just e'en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o' his, you have come at a time when he's sair bested."
"I have been abroad for many years—is his health so much deranged?"
"Aye, and his affairs an' a'," said the Deacon; "the creditors have entered into possession o' the estate, and it's for sale; and some that made the maist by him—I name nae names, but Mrs Mac-Candlish kens wha I mean—(the landlady shook her head significantly) they're sairest on
