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"What's the matter?" the lady returned in a trembling voice, but not a little reassured at the sight, as she crossed the range of one of the lamps, of the face of a young girl. "Why doesn't the coachman go on?" "He canna, mem. The horse canna win throu the snaw.
Ye wad be weel pleased to think hoo ye stack yer durk throu' the ill han' o' me, an' wadna rist till ye had it throu' the waur hert. I doobt I had better up an' awa', daddy, for wha' kens what ye mayna du to me?" Malcolm made a movement to rise, and Duncan's quick ears understood it. He sat down again by his bedside and threw his arms over him. "Lie town, lie town, my poy.
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!"
'Mind hoo ye gang, sir, she resumed, returning with a candle. 'There's nae flurin' there. Haud i' the middle efter me, or ye'll gang throu. She led him into a room, with nothing in it but a bed, a table, and a chair. On the table was a half-made shirt. In the bed lay a tiny baby, fast asleep. It had been locked up alone in the dreary garret.
We hae been bairns thegither; we hae been to the schuil thegither; we hae had the same maister; we hae come throu dour times thegither I doobt we hae been hungry thegither, though ye saidna a word; we hae warstlet wi' poverty, an' maybe wi' unbelief; we loe the same fowk best; an' abune a' we set the wull o' God.
To prevent then this Inconvenience, when your Brewing is over put up some Water scalding hot, and let it run throu' the Grains, then boil it and fill up the Cask, stop it well and let it stand till it is cold, do this twice, then take the Grounds of strong Drink and boil in it green Wallnut Leaves and new Hay or Wheat Straw, and put all into the Cask, that it be full and stop it close.
An' this hoose and yaird was ance my father's, and sae he had that door throu, they tell me. An' I thocht gin it suld be open, it wad be a fine thing for me, to haud fowk ohn seen me. But it was verra ill-bred to you, mem, I ken, to come throu your yaird ohn speirt leave. I beg yer pardon, mem, an' I'll jist gang back, and roon' by the ro'd. This is my fiddle I hae aneath my airm.
The woman burst into a great laugh, a hard, unmusical, but not unmirthful laugh. "Ay!" she said, "was that hoo the fowk wad hae't o' me?" "It wasna muckle won'er, efter ye cam wydin' throu' watter yairds deep, an' syne gaed doon the spate on a bran'er." "Weel, it was the maddest thing!" she returned, with another laugh which stopped abruptly. " I wadna dee the like again to save my life.
It wad be sair upo' baith o' 's to pairt an' to me a vex forby 'at the first thing w'alth did for me sud be to tak you awa'. It wad 'maist brak my hert to think 'at her 'at cam throu the lan' o' drowth wi' me ay, tuik me throu' 't' for, wantin' her, I wad hae fa'en to rise nae mair, sud gang on climmin' the dry hill-ro'd, an' me lyin' i' the bonny meadow-gerse at the fut o' 't.
Dinna be fleyt; yer father an' Oscar has him safe eneuch, I s' warran'." "Here, Janet!" cried her husband; "gien ye be throu' wi' the bairn, I maun be gauin'." "Hoot, Robert! ye're no surely gauin' to lea' me an' puir Gibbie, 'at maunna stir, i' the hoose oor lanes wi' the murderin' man!" returned Janet. "'Deed am I, lass!
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