“Here’s auld Belzebub at last! ’gaein to an’ fro i’ the earth, an’ walkin’ up an’ doon intil ’t!” she said to herself. “Noo’s for me to priv the trowth ’o Scriptur! Whether he’ll flee or no, we’ll see: I s’ resist him. It’s no me ’at’ll rin, ony gait!”
His lordship had been standing by his lodge on the outlook, and when he saw Grizzie approaching, had started to encounter her. As she drew near he stopped, and stood in the path motionless. On she came till within a single pace of him. He did not move. She stopped.
“I doobt, my lord,” she said, “I’ll hae to mak the ro’d a bit wider. There’s hardly room for yer lordship an’ anither. But I’m gettin’ on fine!”
“Is the woman an idiot!” exclaimed his lordship.
“Muckle siclike ’s yersel’, my lord!” answered Grizzie;—“no that muckle wit, but I micht hae mair, to guide my steps throu’ the wilderness ye wad mak o’ no an ill warl’.”
“Are you aware, woman, that you have made yourself liable to a heavy fine for trespass? This field is mine!”
“An’ this fitpath’s mine, my lord—made wi’ my ain feet, an’ I coonsel ye to stan’ aside, an’ lat me by.”
“Woman, you are insolent.”
“Troth, I needna yer lordship to tell me that! Nane the less ae auld wife may say ’at she likes til anither.”
“I tell you there is no thoroughfare here.”