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Updated: June 15, 2025
The snow was falling softly, for the wind was still asleep. Kirsty saw their shadows darken the wall, and turning from her work at the dresser, ran to the door to meet them. 'God be thankit! cried David. Marion gave her daughter one loving look, and entering cast a fearful, questioning glance around the kitchen. 'Whaur's Steenie? she said. 'He's wi' Phemy, I'm thinkin, faltered Kirsty.
What was it you were to mind as soon as you woke? Listen! That's a drum beating! It's the Muckley! They are all here! It has begun! Oh, michty, michty, michty, whaur's my breeks? When Tommy, with Elspeth and Grizel, set off excitedly for the town, the country folk were already swarming in.
Men and women gave place to her, and she went surging into the midst of the assembly. "Whaur's that lass o' mine?" she cried, looking about her in aggravated wrath at failing to pounce right upon her. "She's no verra weel, Mrs Findlay," cried Mrs Catanach, in a loud whisper, laden with an insinuating tone of intercession. "She'll be better in a meenute.
"Miss Horn," he said, "I beg you will give me another day to think of this." "Whaur's the use? A' the thinkin' i' the warl' canna alter a single fac'. Ye maun do richt by my laddie o' yer ainsel', or I maun gar ye." "You would find a lawsuit heavy, Miss Horn." "An' ye wad fin' the scandal o' 't ill to bide, my lord. It wad come sair upo' Miss I kenna what name she has a richt till, my lord."
The man was an Englishman, so I got on vera weel for the speakin'. It's little I could do with they Frenchmen. He was a dirty like man, an' he was daubin' away at a picture whan I opened the door an' walked in. I said to him, 'Whaur's Richard' no, no, no.
"Gie me up some o' thae slides in the green box," he cries to Nathan. "Whaur hae ye putten the Provosts an' the Bailies?" "I have them a' in my breeks' pooch," says Nathan. "They're a' richt." "An' whaur's the drunkard's liver?" "O, I laid it on the boiler-heid, alang wi' Danyil an' some mair." "See an' no' be mixin' them than," said Sandy, shovin' in another slide.
"An' I'm no to lowse sicht o' ye till ye hae put in yer appearance," he added; "sae gien ye dinna come peaceable, I maun gar ye." "Whaur's yer warrant?" asked Malcolm coolly. "Ye wad hae the impidence to deman' my warrant, ye young sorner!" cried Bykes indignantly. "Come yer wa's, my man, or I s' gar ye smairt for 't" "Haud a quaiet sough, an' gang hame for yer warrant," said Malcolm.
"Fower against yin!" shouted the voice; "and three o' them I hae markit. Whaur's your Dukes noo? I hae gi'en yin o' them a fine black eye. If Dukes will not pay their debts, faith, I'll pay their skins. I had a punch at the fat yin too, and doon he went like a bag o' wat sand!"
Before the poor woman could recover from her joy and amazement sufficiently to reply, another step was heard on the stair. "That's ane o' them," said Black, turning and holding the door, so as to be ready for friend or foe. He was right. Mrs. Wallace uttered a little scream of joy as her son leaped into the room. "Whaur's Quentin?" asked Black.
The carriage had gone down again and brought up a load of those who had suffered from the fire. They were blackened, burned, disfigured, but living. One of them, in the midst of his agony, cried out: "Whaur is he? whaur's Robert Burnham? I'll gi' ma life for his, an' ye'll save his to 'im. Ye mus' na let 'im dee. Mon! he done the brawest thing ye ever kenned.
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