"Stephen," said Sir John, still in the same soft, sleekit tone of
voice--"Stephen Stevenson, or Steenson, ye are down here for a year's
rent behind the hand--due at last term."
_Stephen._ Please your honour, Sir John, I paid it to your father.
_Sir John._ Ye took a receipt, then, doubtless, Stephen, and can produce
it?
_Stephen._ Indeed, I hadna time, an it like your honour; for nae sooner
had I set doun the siller, and just as his honour, Sir Robert, that's
gaen, drew it ill him to count it and write out the receipt, he was
ta'en wi' the pains that removed him.
"That was unlucky," said Sir John, after a pause. "But ye maybe paid
it in the presence of somebody. I want but a _talis qualis_ evidence,
Stephen. I would go ower-strictly to work with no poor man."
_Stephen._ Troth, Sir John, there was naebody in the room but Dougal
MacCallum, the butler. But, as your honour kens, he has e'en followed
his auld master.
"Very unlucky again, Stephen," said Sir John, without altering his voice
a single note. "The man to whom ye paid the money is dead, and the man
who witnessed the payment is dead too; and the siller, which should have
been to the fore, is neither seen nor heard tell of in the repositories.
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