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Updated: June 15, 2025
I can't help loving him a good deal, Andrew! And it's what I've got to do!" "There's not a doubt about it, Dawtie. You've got to love him, and you do love him!" "But there's more than that, Andrew. To hear the laird talk you would think he cared more for the Bible than for the whole world not to say gold cups.
Dawtie indeed heard nothing but the good that was mingled with the falsehood, and shone like a lantern through a thick fog. She was little more than a child when, to the trouble of her parents, she had to go out to service. Every half year she came home for a day or so, and neither feared nor found any relation altered.
We've had the carpet up, and the floor scrubbed. There's not a hole or a corner we haven't been into and that yesterday." "We must find it," said George. "It must be in the house." "It must, sir," said Dawtie. But George more than doubted it "I do believe," he said, "the laird would rather have lost his whole collection." "Indeed, sir, I think he would." "Then you have talked to him about it?"
"Oh, it's juist a mainner o' speakin', sir; I was takin' a personal example. Weel, ye gang hame to the wife aboot the gloamin', an' ye open the door, an' ye says, says you, pleesant like, bein' warm aboot the wame, Guid e'en to ye, guidwife, my dawtie, an' hoos a' thing been gaim wi' ye the day? D'ye think she needs to luik roon' to ken a' aboot the Black Bull?
Crawford said that, hearing a cry, he ran up again, and found the old man at the point of death, with just strength to cry out before he died, that Dawtie had taken the cup from him. Dawtie was leaning over him, but he had not imagined the accusation more than the delirious fancy of a dying man, till it appeared that the cup was not to be found.
What to him will be the wind of the world he has left behind, a wind that can not arouse the dead, that can only blow about the grave-clothes of the dead as they bury their dead. "Live, Dawtie," said Andrew to the girl, "and ane day ye'll hae yer hert's desire; for 'Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness."
George would have ill understood the distinction Dawtie made that the body of the cup might belong to him, but the soul of the cup did belong to another; or her assertion that where the soul was there the body ought to be; or her argument that He who had the soul had the right to ransom the body a reasoning possible to a child-like nature only; she had pondered to find the true law of the case, and this was her conclusion.
"No, sir," answered Dawtie; "I would not care to take it out of your hand, but I should be glad to take it out of your heart!" "If they would only bury it with me!" he murmured, heedless of her words. "Oh, sir! Would you have it burning your heart to all eternity? Give it up, sir, and take the treasure thief never stole." "Yes, Dawtie, yes! That is the true treasure!"
If you will not answer me you will have to answer a magistrate." "Then I will answer a magistrate," said Dawtie, beginning to grow angry. "You had better answer me, Dawtie. It will be easier for you. What do you know about the cup?" "I know it was not master's, and is not yours really and truly." "What can have put such a lie in your head?" "If it be a lie, sir, it is told in plain print."
And anyhow, he could not take it with him when he died!" The face of the miser grew grayer; his lip trembled; but he said nothing. He was beginning to hate Dawtie. She was an enemy! She sought his discomfiture, his misery!
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