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Updated: May 6, 2025
Noo I maun confess 'at the ballant o' Kemp Owen was rinnin' i' the worm-heid o' me, an' I cudna help thinkin' what, notwithstan'in' the cheenge o' han's i' the story, lay still to the pairt o' the knicht; but hoo was ony man, no to say a mere ugsome serpent, to mint at sic a thing till a leddy, whether she was in steel beets an' spurs or in lang train an' silver slippers? An' haith!
For the honest first mate I had a great liking, and was touched beyond speech when he enjoined me to keep his shore suit as long as I had want of it. "But you will be needing it, MacMuir," I said, suspecting he had no other. "Haith! I am but a plain man, Mr. Carvel, and ye can sen' back the claw frae London, wi' this geordie."
Drawing himself up in the unconscious majesty of success, Donal Grant looked down upon Gibbie, but with eyes of admiration. "Haith, cratur!" he said, "ye're mair o' a man nor ye'll luik this saven year! What garred ye rin upo' the deevil's verra horns that gait?" Gibbie stood smiling. "Gien't hadna been for my club we wad baith be owre the mune 'gain this time. What ca' they ye, man?"
Haud ye the licht upo' yer ain face, lass, an' there 's feow 'll hae the hert to luik again." "Haith, mem, there's twa sic like o' 's!" returned Jean bitterly, and bounced from the room. "That's true tu," said her mistress adding after the door was shut, "It's a peety we cudna haud on thegither." "I'm gaein' noo, Jean," she called into the kitchen as she crossed the threshold at eight o'clock.
'Haith, he's luikin 'maist like ither fowk! 'I'm thinkin the deevil maun hae gane oot o' him! said another, and several joined in with their remarks. 'Nae muckle o' a deevil was there to gang oot! He was aye an unco hairmless cratur! 'And that saft-hertit til a' leevin thing! 'He was that!
Haith, ye wadna du anither stroke for 'im!" "It's for the siller, no for HIM, Grizzie. But gien he war as ill as ye ca' 'im, a' the same, as ye weel ken, the Lord maks his sun to rise on the evil an' on the good, an' sen's rain on the just an' on the unjust!" "Ow ay! the Lord can afoord it!" remarked Grizzie. "An' them 'at wad be his, maun afoord it tu, Grizzie!" returned Cosmo.
"Haith, Meg !" he cried, "ye're maist as guid at the lang sicht as the piper himsel'!" Several followed him, and as they ran, Meg cried after them, giving her orders as if she had been vice admiral of the red, in a voice shrill enough to pierce the worst gale that ever blew on northern shore.
Florimel turned and undulated from the room, leaving the poor fellow like a statue in the middle of it, with the books all turning their backs upon him. "Noo," he said to himself, "she's aff to tell her father, and there'll be a bonny bane to pyke atween him an' me! But haith! I'll jist tell him the trowth o' 't, an' syne he can mak a kirk an' a mill o' 't, gien he likes."
But they made a ring on the floor, I going over it at one end, and he at the other, when a cry came from the street, those about the entrance parted, and in walked John Paul himself. At sight of him my new adversary, who was preparing to deal me out a blow to fell an ox, dropped his arms in surprise, and held out his big hand. "Haith!
It was dizzy riding, though the motion was not great, and before I had reached the right angle I regretted my rashness. I caught a glimpse of the Bay with the red sun on it, and as I turned saw far below me the white figure of Ivie Rawlinson, the Scotch miller, who had run out. "O haith!" he shouted. "Hand fast, Mr. Richard!"
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