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Updated: May 28, 2025
He couldn't do nowt to Doed so lang as he were maister o' his senses, but if he was to get fair giddy an' drop off into a dwam, then, sure enif, Melsh Dick would have him i' his power and could turn him intul a squirrel as he'd turned other lads an' lasses afore. Wae's t' heart! but he were in a parlous state, were lile Doed, but he knew nowt about it for all that.
Suddenly, he looked up at her with a wild searching inquiry in his glance. 'Yo're sure and certain she's dead not in a dwam, a faint? she's been so before, often. 'She is dead, replied Margaret. She felt no fear in speaking to him, though he hurt her arm with his gripe, and wild gleams came across the stupidity of his eyes. 'She is dead! she said.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Was it a dwam?" he inquired. "I get them whiles." "It was a dwam, but I think it has passed." He still rubbed his eyes, and peered about him, like a big collie dog that has lost its master. "Who is it that speirs?" he said. "I ken the voice, but I havena heard it this long time." "One who is well acquaint with Borrowstoneness and the links of Forth," said I.
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