“Then, father, since you approve I am happy. I have no care now save for these two poor fellows on that couch, who are yet far from being out of danger.”
“L‑‑d sauf us!” said Walter, turning about, “I thought they had been twa dead corpse. But now, when my een are used to the light o’ the place, I see the chaps are living, an’ no that unlife-like, as a body may say.”
He went up to them, spoke to them kindly, took their wan bleached sinewy hands in his, and said, he feared they were still very ill?
“Better than we have been,” was the reply—“Better than we have been, goodman. Thanks to you and yours.”
“Dear father,” said Katharine, “I think if they were removed down to Chapelhope, to dry comfortable lodgings, and had more regular diet, and better attendance, their health might soon be re-established. Now that you deem the danger over, will you suffer me to have them carried down there?”
“Will I no, Kate? My faith, they shall hae the twa best beds i’ the house, if Maron an’ me should sleep in the barn! An’ ye sal hae naething ado but to attend them, an’ nurse them late an’ aire; an’ I’ll gar Maron Linton attend them too, an’ she’ll rhame o’er bladds o’ scripture to them, an’ they’ll soon get aboon this bit dwam. Od, if outher gude fare or drogs will do it, I’ll hae them playin’ at the pennystane wi’ Davie Tait, an’ prayin’ wi’ him at night, in less than twa weeks.”
“Goodman,” said old Brown, (for this celebrated Brownie was no other than the noted Mr John Brown, the goodman of Caldwell)—“Goodman, well may you be proud this day, and well may you be uplifted in heart on account of your daughter. The more I see and hear of her, the more am I struck with admiration; and I am persuaded of this, that, let your past life have been as it may, the Almighty will bless and prosper you on account of that maid. The sedateness of her counsels, and the qualities of her heart, have utterly astonished me—She has all the strength of mind, and energy of the bravest of men, blent with all the softness, delicacy, and tenderness of femininity—Neither danger nor distress can overpower her mind for a moment—tenderness does it at once. If ever an angel appeared on earth in the form of woman, it is in that of your daughter”—
“I wish ye wad haud your tongue,” said Walter, who stood hanging his head, and sobbing aloud. The large tears were not now dropping from his eyes—they were trickling in torrents. “I wish ye wad haud your tongue, an’ no mak me ower proud o’ her. She’s weel eneugh, puir woman——It’s a—It’s a shame for a great muckle auld fool like me to be booin an’ greetin like a bairn this gate!—but deil tak the doer gin I can help it!—I watna what’s ta’en me the day!—She’s weel eneugh, puir lassie. I daresay I never learned her ony ill, but I little wat where she has gotten a’ the gude qualities ye brag sae muckle o’, unless it hae been frae Heaven in gude earnest; for I wat weel, she has been brought up but in a ramstamphish hamely kind o’ way wi’ Maron an’ me.—But come, come! let us hae done wi’ this fuffing an’ blawing o’ noses, an’ making o’ wry faces. Row the twa puir sick lads weel up, an’ bring them down in the bed-claes to my house. An’ d’ye hear, callants—gudesake get your beards clippit or shaven a wee, an’ be something warld like, an’ come a’ down to Chapelhope; I’ll kill the best wedder on the Hermon-Law, an’ we shall a’ dine heartily thegither for aince; I’ll get ower Davie Tait to say the grace, an’ we’ll be as merry as the times will allow.”
They accepted the invitation, with many expressions of gratitude and thankfulness, and the rays of hope once more enlightened the dejected countenances that had so long been overshadowed with the gloom of despair.