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Lat a bairn come to mischance, or the guidman turn ower the kettle, an' it's aye,'Rin for Jean this, or Bauby that, to set richt what they hae set wrang. Even whan a man kills a body, it's the women hae to mak the best o' 't, an' the corp luik dacent. An' there's some o' them no that easy to mak luik dacent!
His claim 'll want nae supportin'. Dinna ye believe a word Mistress Stewart or Bauby Catanach aither wad say to ye. Gien he be Mistress Stewart's, wha was his father?" "You think he resembles my late brother: he has a look of him, I confess." "He has, my lord. But onybody 'at kent the mither o' 'im, as you an' me did, my lord, wad see anither lik'ness as weel." "I grant nothing."
"By name she's Bauby Cat'nach, an' by natur' she's what I tell ye an' gien I had her 'atween my twa een, it 's what I wad say to the face o' her." "It can't be MacPhail! Mrs Stewart says he is her son, and the woman Catanach is her chief witness in support of the claim." "The deevil has a better to the twa o' them, my lord, as they 'll ken some day.
Peter's face flushed crimson, though where the blood could have come from was an anatomical mystery; he held up his hands with the fingers crooked like the claws of an animal, for the poor creature had no notion of striking; and, dancing backwards and forwards from one foot to the other, and grinning with set teeth in an agony of impotent rage, cried out: "Tam Crann, gin ye daur to say anither word against my Bauby wi' that foul mou' o' yours, I'll I'll I'll worry ye like a mad dog�ye ill-tongued scoonrel!"
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