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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Ae man thrashin', an' twa birdies pickin'!" she went on, quoting the old nursery nonsense. Then she stooped, and let down her veil. Florimel hated her, and therefore might know her. "It's the day o' the Lord wi' auld Sanny Grame!" she resumed to herself, as she lifted her head. "He's stickit nae mair, but a chosen trumpet at last! Foul fa' 'im for a wearifu' cratur for a' that!
"I'll give you twenty-four hours to get out of here and away from the place; and if you are not gone in that time I shall inform the police. I know the whole story regarding the setting of the contracts. Sanny has told me, and if I was doing right I would not give you a single minute."
When, with uncertain hand, he had opened at length, he went straight to the nest of his treasure, and Robert slipping out noiselessly, was in the next street before Dooble Sanny, having found the fiddle uninjured, and not discovering the substitution, had finished concluding that the whisky and his imagination had played him a very discourteous trick between them, and retired once more to bed.
"I'll tear the thrapple oot o' you, you dirty swine!" he squealed, as he tugged at Black Jock's throat. Mr. Rundell and a couple of laborers soon pulled Sanny up, though he struggled to maintain his hold upon the throat of his adversary. "Let me at him," he yelled, striving to get free. "Let me at him, an' I'll save the hangman a guid lot o' bother stretchin' his dirty neck! Oh, you swine!
Black Jock had soon got into contact with them and finding them willing tools he had deserted Sanny and Mag Robertson. All the contracts were taken from Sanny and given to Tam, and it was this that had made Mag watch for Walker coming in for his breakfast, determined to have it out with him, with the result which is chronicled above.
It had been bought by a retired naval officer, who lived in it with his wife the only Englishwoman in the place, until the arrival, at The Boar's Head, of the lady so much admired by Dooble Sanny. Robert was up-stairs when Betty emptied her news-bag, and so heard nothing of this bit of gossip.
Robert walked home with his head sunk on his breast. Dooble Sanny, the drinking, ranting, swearing soutar, was inside the wicket-gate; and he was left outside for all his prayers, with the arrows from the castle of Beelzebub sticking in his back. He would have another try some day but not yet he dared not yet.
"Ye're a liar," roared Tam Tate angrily, his usual hasty temper getting the mastery. "It's no' you that gets the work, it's Mag!" The others laughed uproariously, for it was common knowledge that Sanny got his good jobs because of Walker's intimacy with his wife.
Here's tae them, they were good while they lasted," and the unholy wretch smacked his lips as though he relished the memory more than the drink. "Sanny McNeilage, they ca' me. I've seen what I've seen and what ye'll never see I've seen the decks red for a week and all hands drunk;" and then he turned to me, and his face shone with kindliness, "Are ye any man wi' a cutlass, my lad?"
Andrew quietly stepped out and addressed the men, asking them if they would wait a few minutes as they were idle in any case to have a meeting. All were agreed. "Here's Sanny Robertson," said Tam Tate, peering into the breaking light, "he'll no' likely wait, but we'll see what he says aboot it," and all waited in silence until Robertson approached.
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