His entrance did not interrupt Thomas, however.
"Sin's sic an awfu' thing! And I hae sinned sae aften and sae lang, that maybe He'll be forced efter a' to sen' me to the bottomless pit."
"Hoot, hoot, Thamas! dinna speyk sic awfu' things," said Dow. "They're dreadfu' to hearken till. I s' warran' He's as kin'-hertit as yersel."
James had no reputation for piety, though much for truthfulness and honesty. Nor had he any idea how much lay in the words he had hastily uttered. A light-gleam grew and faded on Thomas's face.
"I said, he micht be forced to sen' me efter a'."
"What, Thomas!" cried Cupples. "He cudna save ye! Wi' the Son and the Speerit to help him? And a willin' hert in you forbye? Fegs! ye hae a greater opinion o' Sawtan nor I gied ye the discredit o'."
"Na, na; it's nae Sawtan. It's mysel'. I wadna lay mair wyte (blame) upo' Sawtan's shouthers nor's his ain. He has eneuch already, puir fallow!"
"Ye'll be o' auld Robbie Burns's opinion, that he 'aiblins micht still hae a stake.'"
"Na, na; he has nane. Burns was nae prophet."
"But jist suppose, Thomas�-gin the de'il war to repent."