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For a great part of it, after his friends left him, he had glimpses now and then of some one before him that looked like Aggie, but the distance between them gradually lengthened, and before he reached home he had lost sight of her. When he entered the kitchen, Aggie was there. "Was yon you upo' the ro'd afore me, Aggie?" he said. "Ay, was't." "What for didna ye bide?"
'At I sud say 't!" cried Mistress Croale, drawing herself up suddenly, with a snort of anger: "whan turnt I beggar? I wad fain be informt! Was't yer soup or yer grace I soucht till, sir? The Lord be atween you an' me! There's first 'at 'll be last, an' last 'at 'll be first. But the tane's no me, an' the tither's no you, sir." With that she turned and walked down the steps, holding her head high.
"What was't ye were speering at us, sir?" she resumed, with an appearance of stolidity so speedily assumed, as showed there was a good deal of knavery mixed with her folly. "I asked you," said the procurator, "at what hour, and to what place, Robertson brought back your clothes." "Robertson? Lord hand a care o' us! what Robertson?"
The crown, says he, canna be craved to prove a positive was't a positive or a negative they couldna be ca'd to prove? it was the tane or the tither o' them, I am sure, and it maksna muckle matter whilk. Wherefore, says he, the libel maun be redargued by the panel proving her defences. And it canna be done otherwise."
Boys's kiddin' him an' Boris tol' 'em he was't 'fraid no woman. Said he'd show 'em." "Does he live over there?" Gregory asked quickly, pointing toward the Lang hill. Blagg shook his head and nodded in the opposite direction. "Down there," he corrected. "Think he " But Gregory did not wait to hear what Blagg thought. Blagg looked after him stupidly.
It was the first time he read oot o' my Bible." "Was't afore or efter that 'at ye luikit for the nott?" "It was the neist day; for the sicht o' the Bible pat it i' my min'. I oughtna to hae thocht aboot it o' the Sawbath; but it cam' o' 'tsel'; and I didna luik till the Mononday mornin', afore they war up. I reckon Mr Cowie forgot to pit it in efter a'." "Hm! hm! Ay! ay!
"I was quoting from Thomas Otway's 'Orphan. I wish I could write like Otway. He knew what he was talking about. 'Who was't betrayed the Capitol? A woman. Who lost Marc Antony the world? A woman. Who was the cause of a long ten years' war and laid at last old Troy in ashes? Woman! Destructive, damnable, deceitful woman!" "Well, of course, he may be right in a way. As regards some women, I mean.
"Into this room he strides and to the window straight and looks below the sill. 'Four years ago, says he, 'there was a hole here in the wall. Was't so or was't not? and he looks at me sharp and fierce as if he would take me by the throat if I said there had been none. 'Ay, there was a hole there long enough, I answers him, 'but 'twas mended with new plaster at last.
"Eh, ye cratur!" he cried; and darting to the bed, he took Gibbie's face between his hands, and said, in a voice to which pity and sympathy gave a tone like his mother's, "Whaten a deevil was't 'at lickit ye like that? Eh! I wuss I had the trimmin' o' him!" Gibbie smiled. "Has the ill-guideship ta'en the tongue frae 'im, think ye?" asked the mother.
Therefore, the next time I saw him "Sandy," says I, "wha was't laid Troy in ashes?" He at first started and stared at me, rather vexed like, but at last he answered, wi' a sort o' forced laugh, "A woman." "A woman, was it?" says I; "and wha was the cause o' Sandy Rutherford losing his situation as tutor, and being sent back to Annan?"
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