"Maybe, maybe; but when a body has a suspeecion o' a trowth, he sud never lat sit till he's gotten eyther hit, or an assurance that there's nothing there. But there's jist ae thing, in the poem 'at Ican pit my finger upo', an' say 'at it's no richt clear to me whether it's a' straucht-foret or no?""What's that, Mr. Elginbrod?"
"It's jist this--what for a' thae sailor-men fell doon deid, an' the chield 'at shot the bonnie burdie, an' did a' the mischeef, cam' to little hurt i' the 'en--comparateevely.""Well," said Hugh, "I confess I'm not prepared to answer the question. If you get any light on the subject"--"Ow, I daursay I may. A heap o' things comes to me as I'm takin' a daunder by mysel' i' the gloamin'. I'll no say a thing's wrang till I hae tried it ower an' ower; for maybe I haena a richt grip o' the thing ava.""What can ye expec, Dawvid, o' a leevin' corp, an' a' that?--ay, twa hunner corps--fower times fifty's twa hunner--an' angels turnin' sailors, an' sangs gaein fleein' aboot like laverocks, and tummelin' doon again, tired like?--Gude preserve's a'!""Janet, do ye believe 'at ever a serpent spak?""Hoot! Dawvid, the deil was in him, ye ken.""The deil a word o' that's i' the word itsel, though," rejoined David with a smile.
"Dawvid," said Janet, solemnly, and with some consternation, "ye're no gaein' to tell me, sittin' there, at ye dinna believe ilka word 'at's prentit atween the twa brods o' the Bible? What will Maister Sutherlan' think o' ye?""Janet, my bonnie lass--" and here David's eyes beamed upon his wife--"I believe as mony o' them as ye do, an' maybe a wheen mair, my dawtie. Keep yer min' easy aboot that. But ye jist see 'at fowk warna a'thegither saitisfeed aboot a sairpent speikin', an' sae they leukit aboot and aboot till at last they fand the deil in him. Gude kens whether he was there or no. Noo, ye see hoo, gin we was to leuk weel aboot thae corps, an' thae angels, an' a' that queer stuff--but oh! it's bonny stuff tee!--we micht fa' in wi' something we didna awthegither expec, though we was leukin' for't a' the time.
Sae I maun jist think aboot it, Mr. Sutherlan'; an' I wad fain read it ower again, afore I lippen on giein' my opingan on the maitter.
Ye cud lave the bit beukie, sir? We'se tak' guid care o't.""Ye're verra welcome to that or ony ither beuk I hae," replied Hugh, who began to feel already as if he were in the hands of a superior.
"Mony thanks; but ye see, sir, we hae eneuch to chow upo' for an aucht days or so."By this time the potatoes wore considered to be cooked, and were accordingly lifted off the fire. The water was then poured away, the lid put aside, and the pot hung once more upon the crook, hooked a few rings further up in the chimney, in order that the potatoes might be thoroughly dry before they were served. Margaret was now very busy spreading the cloth and laying spoon and plates on the table. Hugh rose to go.
"Will ye no bide," said Janet, in a most hospitable tone, "an' tak' a het pitawta wi' us?"
"I'm afraid of being troublesome," answered he.
"Nae fear o' that, gin ye can jist pit up wi' oor hamely meat.""Mak nae apologies, Janet, my woman," said David. "A het pitawta's aye guid fare, for gentle or semple. Sit ye doun again, Maister Sutherlan'. Maggy, my doo, whaur's the milk?""I thocht Hawkie wad hae a drappy o' het milk by this time," said Margaret, "and sae I jist loot it be to the last; but I'll hae't drawn in twa minutes." And away she went with a jug, commonly called a decanter in that part of the north, in her hand.
"That's hardly fair play to Hawkie," said David to Janet with a smile.