For all that , he studied his visitor awhile in silence , and when he spoke his voice had a quaver of misgiving . `` What 's this ? '' says he . `` This is nae kind of time of night for decent folk ; and I hae nae trokings * wi ' night-hawks . What brings ye here ? I have a blunderbush . '' * Dealings . `` Is that yoursel ' , Mr. Balfour ? '' returned Alan , stepping back and looking up into the darkness . `` Have a care of that blunderbuss ; they 're nasty things to burst . '' `` What brings ye here ? and whae are ye ? '' says my uncle , angrily . `` I have no manner of inclination to rowt out my name to the country-side , '' said Alan ; `` but what brings me here is another story , being more of your affair than mine ; and if ye 're sure it 's what ye would like , I 'll set it to a tune and sing it to you . '' `` And what is ` t ? '' asked my uncle . `` David , '' says Alan . `` What was that ? '' cried my uncle , in a mighty changed voice . `` Shall I give ye the rest of the name , then ? ''
said XXXXX .
Alan Balfour David blunderbush blunderbuss misgiving night night-hawks whae yoursel