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Updated: June 4, 2025
"I think so too, under his worship's favour," answered Christie of the Clinthill.
"Halt, there," said Christie of the Clinthill; "pursue your guest, my master's friend and my own? there go two words to that bargain. What the foul fiend would you pursue him for?" "Let me pass," said Edward, vehemently, "I will be staid by no man the villain has murdered my brother!" "What says he?" said Christie, turning to the others; "murdered? who is murdered, and by whom?"
Here her eye "in a fine frenzy rolling," fell full upon that of Christie of the Clinthill, and at once her fears for having given offence interrupted the current of maternal rebuke, which, like rebuke matrimonial, may be often better meant than timed.
Soldier, I forgive thee, and may God bless thee and send thee honesty." Christie of the Clinthill made an unwilling inclination with his head, and muttered apart, "that is as much as to say, God send thee starvation, But now to my master's demand, Sir Priest? What answer am I to return?"
"Nay, an thou wouldst try conclusions," said Christie of the Clinthill, "I will meet thee at day-break by Saint Mary's Well." "Hardened wretch!" said Father Eustace, "art thou but this instant delivered from death, and dost thou so soon morse thoughts of slaughter?" "I will meet with thee ere it be long, thou knave," said the bailie, "and teach thee thine Oremus."
Meantime the two young Glendinnings were each wrapped up in his own reflections, and only interrupted in them by the signal to move bedward. He strikes no coin,'tis true, but coins new phrases, And vends them forth as knaves vend gilded counters, Which wise men scorn, and fools accept in payment. In the morning Christie of the Clinthill was nowhere to be seen.
"For God's sake" cried poor Dame Glendinning, terrified at the idea of a quarrel between them, "O Christie! -it is the Sub-Prior O reverend sir, it is Christie of the Clinthill, the laird's chief jack-man; ye know that little havings can be expected from the like o' them."
Martin took the horses to the stable as commanded, but suppressed not his indignation a moment after he could vent it with safety. "Would not any one think," he said to Jasper, an old ploughman, who, in coming to his assistance, had heard Christie's imperious injunctions, "that this loon, this Christie of the Clinthill, was laird or lord at least of him? No such thing, man!
The Sub-Prior suppressed with pain the controversial answer which arose to his lips, and, turning to Edward Glendinning, he said, "there could be now no doubt that his mother ought presently to be informed that her son lived." "I told you that two hours since," said Christie of the Clinthill, "an you would have believed me.
Avenel guided Piercie Shafton into Scotland, and his henchman, Christie of the Clinthill, brought the Southron hither." "Of that," said the old man, "I am well aware. Yet if thou wilt trust to me, as I have shown no reluctance to confide in thee, thou shalt find with Julian Avenel welcome, or at least safety."
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