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She had been brought up in a stern and nowise pitiful school. She made neither solemn reflection, nor uttered hope which her theology forbade her to cherish. "Ye think wi' me 'at he's deid dinna ye, Grizzie?" said the laird, in a voice that seemed to himself to intrude on the solemn silence. She removed the handkerchief, and the jaw fell. "He's gane til's accoont," she said.
So it be well for you, my Lord, to pay old Til well and add a few guilders for the peace of her tongue if you would that your prisoner find peace in old Til's house." "Fetch me the bundle, hag," replied De Vac, "and you shall have gold against a final settlement; more even than we bargained for if all goes well and thou holdest thy vile tongue."
"A close shave," thought De Vac, as he again took up the child and prepared to gain the dock. No further noises occurring to frighten him, he soon reached the door to Til's house and, inserting the key, crept noiselessly to the garret room which he had rented from his ill-favored hostess.
I'm jist in a trimle to think what's to come oot o' 't a'! God only kens! we can but sit still and wait his appearance! What think ye, Jeemie? Whan the Lord was deid upo' the cross, they waitit but twa nichts, and there he was up afore them! here we hae waitit, close on a haill fortnicht and naething even to pruv that she's deid! still less ony sign that ever she'll speyk word til's again!
O' the contrar', the storm was like a freenly cloak til's grief, for upo' the ro'd he fell a greitin' an' compleenin' an' lamentin' lood, jeedgin' nae doobt, gien he thoucht at a', he micht du as he likit wi' naebody nigh. To the sheep cot, I say, he gaed wailin' an' cryin' alood efter bonny bairn, the last o' his flock, oontimeous his taen.
For ance 'at there cam the markis to the hoose whan things warna freely sae scant aboot the place as they hae been sin' yer father cam to the throne there cam at his back a fearsome storm, sic as comes but seldom in a life lang as mine, an' sic 'at his lordship cudna win awa'. Thereupon yer father, that is, yer gran'father, or it wad be yer grit-gran'father I'm turnin' some confused amo' ye: ye aye keep comin'! onyhoo, he gae the captain a kent like,'at he wad du weel to offer his room til's lordship.
"But," he went on, "I canna but believe them something better, they come til's in sic a time o' sair need. But, be they this or be they that, the Lord's wull be done noo an' for ever, be it, I say, what it like!" "I wuss it, father!" rejoined Cosmo. "But I ken something aboot sic-like things, frae bein' sae muckle in Mr.
'I laidna han' to cheek o' Francie Gordon, Phemy; I jist throosh him wi' his father's ain ridin whup 'at my hert's like to brak to think o' 't. I doobt he'll carry the marks til's grave! Kirsty broke into a convulsion of silent sobs and tears. 'Kirsty Barclay, ye're a deevil! cried Phemy in a hoarse whisper: she was spent with passion.
That was his stick ye hae i' yer han', whaurever ye got it; an' it was seldom oot o' his frae mornin' till nicht. Some wad hae't hetuik it til's bed wi' him. I kenna aboot that; but gien by ony accident he set it oot frae 'atween his knees, it was never oot o' the sicht o' his e'en.
He's a man noo, and weel luikit upo'; but it maks unco little differ to his parents! He's jist as dour as ever, and as far as man could weel be frae them he cam o'! never a word to the ane or the ither o' 's! Gien we war twa dowgs, he couldna hae less to say til's, and micht weel hae mair!
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