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Updated: May 2, 2025
"But what wad come o' yersel' an' Aggie wi'oot, a place to lay yer heid? We're no to mak oorsel's a' sae ill aff as was the Maister; we maun lea' that to his wull. Ye wadna hae HER luik doon an' see ye in less comfort nor whan she was wi' ye!" "Thereanent, sir, I had a word o' proposal to mak," rejoined Jeames.
'Ye'll jist mak up yer min' to bide a twa three days, she said; 'for thae feet cudna bide to be carried, no to say to carry a weicht like you. There's naebody to luik for ye, ye ken. An' ye're no to come doon the nicht. I'll sen' up yer supper. And Robert there 'll bide and keep ye company.
I jist dinna like to pit the lid ower him." "Hoot! hoot! Lat the Lord luik efter his ain. The lid o' the coffin disna hide frae his een." The last speaker was a stout, broad-shouldered man, a stonemason by trade, powerful, and somewhat asthmatic. He was regarded in the neighbourhood as a very religious man, but was more respected than liked, because his forte was rebuke.
I nodded sympathetically, trying to convey my sense of the mistake the congregation had made in its choice of both elders and precentor. "Ye wud say, to luik at me, that I'm no' an office-seeker, an' ye're richt. But I haud an office for a' that." This time I smiled as if light had come to me, and as one who has been reassured in his belief in an overruling Providence.
"No that weel, and no that ill. The faimily's rather sair upo' her. But I canna haud her oot o' the chop for a' that. She's like mysel' she wad aye be turnin' a bawbee. But what are ye gaein to do yersel', Marget?" "I'm gaein to my uncle and aunt auld John Peterson and his wife. They're gey and frail noo, and they want somebody to luik efter them."
"I'll no du that, Grizzie; but come ye an' luik at him," said the laird, "an' tell me what ye think. I makna a doobt he's deid, but gien ye hae ony, we'll du what we can; an' we'll sit up wi' the corp thegither, an' lat yoong an' auld tak the rist they hae mair need o' nor the likes o' you an' me." It was a proud moment in Grizzle's life, one never forgotten, when the laird addressed her thus.
"I dinna think muckle o' that, sir," said Phemy. "It micht be the mark o' the sole o' his fut, though," returned the laird. Luik sharp, Phemy; there may come anither at the neist stride anither fut mark. Luik ye that gait an' I'll luik this. What for willna he come oot? The lift maun be fu' o' 'im, an' I 'm hungert for a sicht o' 'im. Gien ye see ony thing, Phemy, cry oot."
"I'm gaein' to luik for a place." "But, Aggie, gien it canna be helpit; and gang ye maun, YE ken I'm rich, an' I ken there's naebody i' the warl' wi' a better richt to share in what I hae: wadna ye like to gang til a ladies' school, an' learn a heap o' things?" "Na, I wadna. It's hard wark I need to haud me i' the richt ro'd.
As he moved it aside, a cry of startled fear discovered that his landlady was in the room. "Guid preserve's, Mr Forbes!" she cried; "whaur come ye frae, and what hae ye been aboot, to raise the haill toon upo' ye? I trust ye hae nae legs or airms o' a cauld corp aboot ye. The fowk i' the back streets canna bide that. An' I winna alloo 't i' my hoose. Jist luik at puir Mr Cupples here."
Sclater's request they had come down, and looking at the outside of the house, had espied a half-obliterated stone-carving of the Galbraith arms "Gien I was you, Sir Gilbert, I wad gar Maister Scletter keep a sherp luik oot for the first chance o' buyin' back this hoose. It wad be a great peety it sud gang to waur afore ye get it. Eh! sic tales as this hoose cud tell!"
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