.
"Na, na, laddie; the deil's no awa' in sic a hurry: he bed (remained),"
said a voice behind him.
Malcolm turned again and lifted his bonnet. It was Miss Horn, who
had come up from the Seaton.
"Did ye see yon, mem?" he asked.
"Ay, weel that, as I cam up the brae. Dinna stan' there, laddie.
The jaud 'll be watchin' ye like a cat watchin' a mouse. I ken her!
She's a cat wuman, an' I canna bide her. She's no mowse (safe to
touch). She's in secrets mair nor guid, I s' wad (wager). Come awa'
wi' me; I want a bit fish. I can ill eat an' her lyin' deid I' the
hoose--it winna gang ower; but I maun get some strength pitten
intil me afore the berial. It's a God's mercy I wasna made wi'
feelin's, or what wad hae come o' me! Whaur's the gude o' greetin?
It's no worth the saut i' the watter o' 't, Ma'colm. It's an ill
wardle, an micht be a bonny ane--gien't warna for ill men."
"'Deed, mem! I'm thinkin' mair aboot ill women, at this prasent,"
said Malcolm. "Maybe there's no sic a thing, but yon's unco like ane.
As bonny a sawmon troot 's ever ye saw, mem! It's a' I'm cawpable
o' to haud ohn cursed that foul tyke o' hers."
"Hoot, laddie! haud yer tongue."
"Ay will I. I'm na gaun to du 't, ye ken. But sic a fine troot 's
that--the verra ane ye wad hae likit, mem!"
"Never ye min' the troot. There's mair whaur that cam frae. What
anger't her at ye?"
"Naething mair nor that I bude to gie Mistress Courthope the first
wale (choice) o' my fish.
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