“Ow! ye’re there, are ye, mem!” rejoined the other, in a voice that held internal communication with her wounded shins. “Coupit ye the crans like me?”
The question, Englished, was, “Did you fall heels over head like me?” but was capable of a metaphorical interpretation as well.
“Hold your tongue, I say, woman! Who knows but some of the saints may be at their prayers within hearing?”
“Na, na, mem, there’s nae risk o’ that; this is no ane o’ yer creepy caves whaur otters an wullcats hae their habitations; it’s a muckle open-mou’d place, like them ’at prays intill ’t—as toom an’ clear-sidit as a tongueless bell. But what for ye wad hae ’s come here to oor cracks (conversation), I canna faddom. A body wad think ye had an ill thoucht i’ yer heid—eh, mem?”
The suggestion was followed by a low, almost sneering laugh. As she spoke, the sounds of her voice and step had been advancing, with cautious intermittent approach.
“I hae ye noo,” she said, as she seated herself at length beside the other. “The gowk, Geordie Bray!” she went on, “—to tak it intill ’s oogly heid ’at the cratur wad be hurklin’ here! It’s no the place for ane ’at has to hide ’s heid for verra shame o’ slippin’ aff the likes o’ himsel’ upo’ sic a braw mither! Could he get nae ither door to win in at, haith!”
“Woman, you’ll drive me mad!” said the other.
“Weel, hinney,” returned the former, suddenly changing her tone, “I’m mair an’ mair convenced ’at yon’s the verra laad for yer purpose. For ae thing, ye see, naebody kens whaur he cam frae, as the laird, bonny laad, wad say, an’ naebody can contradick a word— the auld man less than onybody, for I can tell him what he kens to be trowth. Only I winna muv till I ken whaur he comes frae.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer not knowing for certain? You could swear with the better grace.”
“Deil a bit! It maitters na to me whilk side o’ my teeth I chow wi’. But I winna sweir till I ken the trowth—’at I may haud aff o’ ’t. He’s the man, though, gien we can get a grip o’ ’im! He luiks the richt thing, ye see, mem. He has a glisk (slight look) o’ the markis tu—divna ye think, mem?”