"Well done," said Mr. Anderson, at the close of this harrowing
narration; "this is indeed a most probable story, and quite in keeping
with 'open, open to the Duke of Drumlanrig.' Surely," he added more
seriously, "you do not believe any such nonsense?"
"Never you mind whether I do or not," replied Mrs. Anderson, evidently
enjoying her husband's look of astonishment; "but just go your ways to
that small drawer on the left there, and bring me the little box tied
round wi' red tape, which you will find in the farthest back corner."
Mr. Anderson, in obedience to his wife's request, proceeded to the
drawer, and in a few seconds placed in her hands the wished-for article.
After fumbling for a short space of time amongst its varied contents,
Mrs. Anderson succeeded in fishing out, from its mysterious depths, a
sheet of paper carefully folded up, which she opened and placed in my
hands, saying, "there now, that was written by a friend of mine while
studying at the College of Edinburgh." Glancing my eyes over the
verses, I perceived that they bore immediate reference to the legend
Mrs. A. had just been narrating, and so wrote them down, as an
appropriate finish to the Legend of Culzean:--