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"Say that to the man," rejoined Aggie. "The wuman can haud aff o' hersel'." "Grizzie, I grant ye,'s mair nor a match for ony man; but ye're no sae lang i' the tongue, Aggie." "Think ye a lang tongue 's a lass's safety, Cosmo? I wad awe nane til 't! But what's ta'en ye the nicht,'at ye speyk to me sae? I ken no occasion."
Ye hae dune yer best for him 'at she left!" "Eh, sir! dinna speyk like that. It's terrible to hearken til! I' the verra face o' the providence 'at's been takin' sic pains to mak up to ye for a' ye hae gang throu' noo whan a 's weel, an' like to be weel, to turn roon' like this, an' speyk o' gaein' to yer bed! It's no worthy o' ye, laird!"
But, Lord, wha am I to speyk like that to thee, wha didst lat thine ain poor oot his verra sowl's bluid for him an' me!" "Father," said Cosmo, "I can du wi' watter as weel's onybody. Du ye think I'm nae mair o' a man nor to care what I pit intil me? Gien ye be puirer nor ever, I'm prooder nor ever to share wi' ye. Bide ye here, an' I'll jist rin an' get a drink, an' come back to ye."
"The lown win' maun be his breath sae quaiet! He 's no hurryin' himsel' the nicht. There 's never naebody rins efter him. Eh, Phemy! I jist thoucht he was gauin' to speyk!" This last exclamation he uttered in a whisper, as the louder gush of a larger tide pulse died away on the shore. "Luik, Phemy, luik!" he resumed. "Luik oot yonner! Dinna ye see something 'at micht grow to something?"
"He 's taen sic a doobt o' me 'at I 'm feart it 'll be hard to come at him, an' still harder to come at speech o' 'im, for whan he 's frichtit he can hardly muv is jawbane no to say speyk. I maun try though and du my best. Ye think he's lurkin' aboot Fife Hoose, div ye, mem?" "He's been seen there awa' this while aff an' on." "Weel, I s' jist gang an' put on my fisher claes, an set oot at ance.
"Ye needna speyk like that," returned Mrs Mellis, for Miss Horn's tone was threatening: "I'm no Jean." "What saw ye?" repeated Miss Horn, more gently, but not less eagerly. "Whause is that kist o' mahogany drawers i' that bedroom, gien I may preshume ta spier?" "Whause but mine?" "They're no Jean's?" "Jean's!" "Ye micht hae latten her keep her bit duds i' them, for onything I kent!"
Sae, whan they tuik themsels there, the freens o' the bonny man wud fill ane o' the roomies, and stan' awa in ilk ane o' the passages 'at gaed frae 't; and that w'y, though there cudna mony o' them see ane anither at ance, a gey lottie wud hear, some a', and some a hantle o' what was said. For there they cud speyk lood oot, and a body abune hear naething and suspec naething.
But speyk o' giein' ower the drink! The verra attemp' an' dinna ye think that I haena made it aich! What for sud I gang to hell afore my time? The deils themselves compleen o' that. Na, na. Ance ye hae learned to drink, ye canna do wantin' 't. Man, dinna touch 't.
"The dog canna speyk himsel'," returned Janet, "an' the won'er is he can un'erstan': wha kens but he may come full nigher ane 'at's speechless like himsel'! Ye gie the cratur the chance, an' I s' warran' he'll mak himsel' plain to the dog. Ye jist try 'im. Tell ye him to tell the dog sae and sae, an' see what 'll come o' 't." Robert made the experiment, and it proved satisfactory.
"Hoots!" said the woman, "dinna speyk that gait, sir. It's no wice-like. Tak a dram, an' tak hert, an' dinna fling the calf efter the coo. Whaur's yer boatle, sir?" John paid no heed to her suggestion, but Jean took it up. "The boatle's whaur ye s' no lay han' upo' 't," she said.
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