“But what wad ye think o’ yersel’, gien it had been you ’at sae near—na, I winna nibble at the trowth ony mair—gien it had been you, I wull say ’t, ’at lee’d that lee—sic an’ ane as it was?”
“I wad say to mysel’ ’at wi’ God’s help I was the less lik’ly ever to tell a lee again; for that noo I un’erstude better hoo a temptation micht come upon a body a’ at ance, ohn gien ’im time to reflec’—an’ sae my responsibility was the greater.”
“Thank ye, Cosmo,” said Aggie humbly, and was silent.
“But,” resumed Cosmo, “ye haena tellt me yet ’at it’s nane o’ my business what Grizzie had in her pock last nicht.”
“Na, I cudna tell ye that, ’cause it wadna be true. It is yer business.”
“What was i’ the pock than?”
“Weel, Cosmo, ye put me in a great diffeeculty; for though I never said to Grizzie I wadna tell, I made nae objection—though at the time I didna like it—whan she tellt me what she was gaein’ to du; an’ sae I canna help fearin’ it may be fause to her to tell ye. Besides, I hae latten ’t gang sae lang ohn said a word, ’at the guid auld body cud never jaloose I wad turn upon her noo an’ tell!”
“You are dreadfully mysterious, Aggie,” said Cosmo, “and in truth you make me more than a little uncomfortable. What can it be that has been going on so long, and had better not be told me! Have I a right to know or have I not?”
“Ye hae a richt to ken, I do believe, else I wadna tell ye,” answered Aggie. “I was terrified, frae the first, to think what ye wad say til ’t! But ye see, what was there left? You, an’ the laird, an’ my father was a’ laid up thegither, heaps o’ things wantit, the meal dune, an’ life depen’in’ upo’ fowk haein’ what they cud ait an’ drink!”
As she spoke, shadowy horror was deepening to monster presence; the incredible was gradually assuming shape and fact; the hair of Cosmo’s head seemed rising up. He asked no more questions, but sat waiting the worst.