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Updated: June 26, 2025
Think o' him! I hae thocht o' nocht else. Think of him! Since when is thinkin' a crime? A lass maun juist do the best she can for hersel', be she cotman's dochter or laird's. Love's a' yae thing kitchen or byre, but or ben. See a lad, lo'e a lad, get a lad, keep a lad! Ralph Peden will kiss me afore the year's oot," she said with determination.
I remember to this day the happiness of taking off my stockings when I came home from the Keswick school, and racing over the fresh grass to feel the daisies underfoot. I could do it yet." "Well, let us," said Ralph Peden, the student in divinity, daringly. Winsome did not even glance up. Of course, she could not have heard, or she would have been angry at the preposterous suggestion.
"Still, I don't see what connection I have in it, why he'd want to take a shot at me on the quiet that way." "He shoots from behind, he shot Mr. Smith in the back, and it was at night, besides. Don't you see how it was? Peden must have bribed him to do it, promised to make good his losses, or something like that." "Plain as a wagon track," Morgan said.
"I wonder to hear ye, Ralph Peden, your father's son," said the minister, "you that have been colleged by the shillings and sixpences of the poor hill folk. How will ye do with these?" "I will pay them back," said Ralph. "Hear ye, man: can ye pay back the love that hained and saved to send them to Edinburgh?
A curious coincidence occurred at this time. Alexander Peden, on a certain night, was conducting family worship. He was hundreds of miles distant from the king. While reading from the Bible, he suddenly stopped, and exclaimed, "What's this I hear?" He uttered the strange words three times. Then after a brief pause, he clapped his hands and said, "I hear a dead shot at the throne of Britain.
As Winsome and Meg washed, Ralph Peden carried water, learning the wondrous science of carrying two cans over a wooden hoop; and in the frankest tutelage Winsome put her hand over his to teach him, and the relation of master and pupil asserted its ancient danger. It had not happened to Winsome Charteris to meet any one to whom she was attracted with such frank liking.
As always, Peden wore a pistol strapped about him on ornate belt, the holster carrying the weapon under the skirt of his coat. His presence on the forward fringe of the crowd seemed to many as an upraised hand to strike the waiting horseman in the back. Morgan saw Peden when he came and took his stand there, and saw others in his employ stationed along the front of the line.
In that second of hesitant delay, that breath of portentous bluff, Morgan had read Peden to the roots. A man who had it in him to shoot did not stop at anybody's word when he was that far along the way. "Clear this place and lock it up!" Morgan repeated. The temperature of the crowded hall seemed to fall forty degrees in the second or two Morgan stood pushing his rifle against Peden's breastbone.
Now Ralph had strange impulses, and, like Winsome, certainly did not talk by rule. "I do wish," he said complainingly, with his head a little to one side, "that you would only look at me with one eye at a time. Two like that are too much for a man." This is that same Ralph Peden whose opinions on woman were written in a lost note-book which at this present moment is we shall not say where.
He preached till forced to leave his pulpit. On the day of his farewell service the congregation was convulsed with grief. Peden had to restrain the wails of the people again and again.
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