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I didna ken whuther to flee up the yaird, roar oot "feyre," or clim' up on the dyke an' gie them a wallop roond the linders wi' my bits o' cloots. So I stud still. The fient a ane o' them ever thocht there was a livin' sowl within fifty yairds o' them, an' they were crackin' an' kirrooin' awa' like a pair o' doos. "Isn't a peety they dinna ca' me Izik?" says Jeems.
As soon as they were out of the wind, Robert, who had made up his mind, said, 'We canna be mony yairds frae the auld hoose o' Bogbonnie. We micht win throu the nicht there weel eneuch. I'll speir at the gaird, the minute the horses are clear. We war 'maist ower the brig, I heard the coachman say. 'I know quite well where the old house is, said Ericson.
His father was the laird o' Gersefell an' for that maitter he's laird himsel' noo. "It seems clearing," said Florimel. "I doobt it's only haudin' up for a wee," returned Malcolm, after surveying as much of the sky as was visible through the bars; "but I do think ye had better run for the hoose, my leddy. I s' jist follow ye, a feow yairds ahin', till I see ye safe.
Sandy near jamp ootin his white coat wi' the start; an', takin' till his heels, he was a hunder yairds doon the Common afore ane o' the laddies grippit him by the tails, an' speered whaur he was fleein' till. "I was gettin' hungrie," says Sandy. "I was gaen ower to the toll for a biskit."
"Na, I hinna seen the mournin', I've heard o't. Na, if Marget doesna tell me naething, am no the kind to speir naething, an' though I'll be at the kirk the morn, I winna turn my heid to look at the mournin'. But it's fac as death I ken frae Janet McQuhatty 'at the bonnet's a' crape, and three yairds o' crape on the dress, the which Marget calls a costume. . . . Ay, I wouldna wonder but what it was hale watter the morn, for it looks michty like rain, an' if it is it'll serve Marget richt, an' mebbe bring doon her pride a wee.
"Jist lay yer han' upo' the tiller, my leddy, an' luik oot at yon pint they ca' the Deid Heid yonner. Ye see, whan I turn the tiller this gait, her heid fa's aff frae the pint; an' whan I turn't this ither gait, her heid turns till 't again: haud her heid jist aboot a twa yairds like aff o' 't."
"That's been stealt oot ahent some menagerie caravan," says Stumpie; an' awa' he gaed dilpin' like's he'd made a grand joke. The policeman cam' doon an' settled himsel' aboot ten yairds awa' frae Princie, put his hands ahent his back, set forrit his heid like's he was gaen awa' to putt somebody, an' took a lang look at him. "That's a clinker, Sandy," says he. "That billie 'ill cover the grund."
The woman burst into a great laugh, a hard, unmusical, but not unmirthful laugh. "Ay!" she said, "was that hoo the fowk wad hae't o' me?" "It wasna muckle won'er, efter ye cam wydin' throu' watter yairds deep, an' syne gaed doon the spate on a bran'er." "Weel, it was the maddest thing!" she returned, with another laugh which stopped abruptly. " I wadna dee the like again to save my life.
'Naething, answered Mac, and refused to be drawn into further conversation. Within half an hour she was back, flushed and bright of eye. She had on a pink print, crisp and fresh, a flowery hat, gloves carefully mended, neat shoes and transparent stockings. 'By Jings, ye're dressed to kill at a thoosan' yairds! Willie observed. Ignoring him, she looked anxiously for the other's approval.
By this time his leg was much swollen, but the wound had almost stopped bleeding, and it was plain there was no bullet in it, for there were the two orifices. She washed it carefully and bound it up. Then Gibbie raised his head and looked somewhat anxiously round the room. "Ye're luikin' efter Angus?" said Janet; "he's yon'er upo' the flure, a twa yairds frae ye.
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