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Updated: June 17, 2025
I saw the thumbikins the other day; and I dare say we could fit you with your size in boots." "The Lord shall pull down the mighty from their seats, and exalt them that are of low estate!" said the preacher solemnly. "Very likely," said the young man as he rode away. But Agnew Greatorix came as often as ever to Craig Ronald.
So Agnew Greatorix had grown up in the midst of raw youths who were not his peers in position. He companied with them till his mother pointed out that it was not for a Greatorix to drink in the Blue Bell and at the George with the sons of wealthy farmers and bonnet lairds.
Let me go, and this instant, Agnew Greatorix!" "Winsome, sweetest girl, it pleases you to jest. Have not I your own letter in my pocket telling me where to meet you? Did you not write it? I am not angry. You can play out your play and pretend you do not care for me as much as you like; but I will not let you go. I have loved you too long, though till now you were cruel and would give me no hope.
So Ralph and Meg helped her up, Ralph wrapping her in her great crimson-barred shawl. Ralph would have kissed her, but Winsome, standing unsteadily clasping Meg's arm, said tenderly: "Not to-night. I am not able to bear it." It was almost midnight when Ralph and the silent Jock Forrest got Agnew Greatorix into the spring-cart to be conveyed to Greatorix Castle.
The ploughman was at this moment stolidly producing pieces of rope from his pockets and tying up Jock Gordon's hands and feet; but after his first attempts again to fly at Greatorix, and his gasps of futile wrath when forced into the soft moss of the moor by Jock Forrest's foot, he had not offered to move.
"It is not I that am the poet!" said Ralph, transferring his attention for a moment from her hair. "Meg says Jock Forrest is perfectly good to her, and that she would not change her man for all Greatorix Castle." "Does Jock make a good grieve?" asked Ralph. "The very best; he is a great comfort to me," replied his wife.
"I have seen you ride to many maids' houses, Agnew Greatorix, since the day your honoured father died, but never a one have I seen the better of your visits. Woe and sorrow have attended upon your way. You may ride off now at your ease, but beware the vengeance of the God of Jacob; the mother's curse and the father's malison ride not far behind!"
Agnew Greatorix could not compete with his companions, but he cut them out as a squire of dames, and came home with a dangerous and fascinating reputation, the best-hated man in the corps. So when Captain Agnew clattered through the village in clean-cut scarlet and clinking spurs, all the maids ran to the door, except only a few who had once run like the others but now ran no more.
Jock Forrest brought the lantern round, and there on the grass was Agnew Greatorix, with daft Jock Gordon above him, his sinewy hands gripping his neck and his teeth in his throat. Ralph pulled Jock Gordon off and flung him upon the heather, where Jock Forrest set his foot upon him, and turned the light of the lantern upon the fierce face of a maniac, foam-flecked and blood- streaked.
"Ou fine that," said Jess. "Meg talks in her sleep." Before Agnew Greatorix leaped on to his horse, which all this time had stood quiet on his bridle-arm, only occasion ally jerking his head as if to ask his master to come away, he took the kiss he had been denied, and rode away laugh ing, but with one cheek much redder than the other, the mark of Jess's vengeance.
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