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I tault him hoo it came that I kenned aboot his dochter's affairs, and begged him would he no reconsider and gie her shelter? I tried to mak' him see that onyone micht be tempted once to do wrong, and still not be hopelessly lost, and asked him would he no stand by his dochter in her time o' sair trouble. He said ne'er a word whiles I talked. He was too quiet, I knew.
"Hold, sir! hold!" cried the roused man. "You now speak daggers to me! I could hae borne this when you were here last; but ye hae unmanned me ye hae made me familiar wi' him, the king o' terrors, wha waits for me. I know him in his worst shapes. He is nae langer hideous to me; and, being his friend, I canna be my dochter's faither and guardian! Why cam you here to revive a struggle that was past?
"A dochter's bairn, they say, the laad." "Ay, they say, but wha kens? Duncan could never be gotten to open his mou' as to the father or mither o' 'im, an' sae it weel may be as they say. It's nigh twenty year noo, I'm thinkin' sin he made's appearance. Ye wasna come frae Scaurnose er' than."
"Ay, good luck to him! so we have," rejoined Terence; "but we've no objection to take out the dochter's bill in drink." "None whatever," replied the mob. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. "Long life to the Markis, and we accept his honourable proposal," responded the mob. "Long life to the Marquis!" reiterated Terence; "he's an honour to ould Ireland!"
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