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Updated: June 19, 2025
'It's the wull o' God 'at's accoontable for him, wuman! answered David, sitting down beside her, and laying hold of her arm. She burst into terrible weeping. 'He maun be sair at hame wi' the bonny man! said Kirsty. 'Lassie, said David, 'you and me and yer mither, we hae naething left but be better bairns, and gang the fester to the bonny man! Whaur's what's left o' the laddie, Kirsty?
They came afterwards to the conclusion that she had arrived, probably half-drunk, the night before, and passed it in one of the outhouses. "Yer legs maun be langer nor they luik than, wuman," said Jean, glancing at the lower part of the stranger's person. The woman only laughed a laugh without any laughter in it. "What's yer wull, noo 'at ye are here?" continued Jean with severity.
I luikit till him to save the fisher fowk, an' no to the Lord; an' the tooer o' Siloam 's fa'en upo' my heid: what does he, the first thing, but turn his ain auld freen's oot o' the sma beild they had! That his father nor his gran'father, 'at was naither o' them God fearin' men, wad never hae put their han' till. Eh, wuman! but my hert's sair 'ithin me.
He wadna turn frae the deil himsel'. An syne he's jist as saft's a deuk's neck when he speyks till a wuman or a bairn ay, or an auld man aither!" And full of trouble as it was about another, Lizzy's heart yet ached at the thought that she should be so unworthy of one like him. From the sands she saw him gain the turnpike road with a bound and a scramble.
'Lord! cried Phemy, 'I'll be cursin a' the warl' and God himsel, gien I gang on this gait! Eh, ye fause wuman! Kirsty sprang upon her at one bound from her seat, threw her arms round her so that she could not move hers, and sitting down with her on her lap, said 'Phemy, gien I was yer mither, I wad gie ye yer licks for sayin what ye didna i' yer hert believe!
"Naething but the doup o' ane, Jean. It 's no to ca' a mune. "Ay, lantren lats them see whaur ye are, an' haud oot o' yer gait," said Jean, who happened not to relish going out that night. "Troth, wuman, ye 're richt there!" returned her mistress, with cheerful assent. "The mair they see o' ye, the less they 'll meddle wi' ye caird or cadger.
Mrs Catanach was speaking in a low tone, and what Malcolm was able to catch was evidently the close of a conversation. "I'll do my best, ye may be sure, my leddy," she said. "There's something no canny aboot the cratur, an' doobtless ye was an ill used wuman, an' ye're i' the richt. But it's a some fearsome ventur, an' may be luikit intill, ye ken. There I s' be yer scoug.
Isna she bonny, Malkie? Isna hers a winsome shape an' a lauchin' ee? Didna she draw ye on, an' luik i' the hawk's een o' ye, an' lay herself oot afore ye, an' ?" "She did naething o' the sort, ye ill tongued wuman!" said Malcolm in anger. "Ho! ho!" trumpeted Mrs Catanach. "Ill tongued, am I? An' what neist?"
There maun be many a dacent wuman 'at wad be pleased to tak him in." Mr. Sclater seemed to himself to foresee no little trouble in his new responsibility, but consoled himself that he would have more money at his command, and in the end would sit, as it were, at the fountain-head of large wealth.
It's shame o' mysel that gars me hate the place, mother! Ance and no more wull I stan' there, making o' 't my stele o' repentance; and syne doon the steps and awa, like Adam frae the gairden!" "And what's to come o' Eve? Are ye gaein, like him, to say, 'The wuman thoo giedest til me it was a' her wyte'?" "Ye ken weel I'm takin a' the wyte upo mysel!"
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