"What can be comed o' the beast?" said Jock; "I had better look the house, she's may be stayed in by herself."
Jock didna wait for an order, but, glad to be a little farther off from his master, he ran back and looked the fold and sheep-house, and every nettle bush around them, as he had been looking for a lost knife.
"I can see naething o' her," said he, as he came slounging back, hanging his head, and keeping aloof from the goodman, who still carried his long pike staff in his hand.
"But I'll mak you see her, and find her baith, hang-dog," said he; "or deil be in my fingers an I dinna twist your neck about. Are you sure you had her yestreen?"
O yes! Jock was sure he had her yestreen. The women were examined if they had observed her as they milked the cows. They could not tell. None of them had seen her; but they could not say she was not there. All was in commotion about the steading, for the loss of the dawted pet lamb, which was a favourite with every one of the family.
Jock drove his cattle and nine sheep to the field—roasted a good collop or two of his concealed treasure, and snapped them up, but found that they did not relish so well as formerly; for now that his strong appetite for fat flesh was somewhat allayed, yea even fed to loathing, he wished the lamb alive again: He began, moreover, to be in great bodily fear; and to provide against the probability of any discovery being made, he lifted the mangled remains of his prey, and conveyed them into an adjoining wood, where he covered them carefully up with withered leaves, and laid thorns above them, "Now!" said Jock, as he left the thicket, "let them find that out wha can."
The goodman went to all the herds around enquiring after his lamb, but could hear no intelligence of her till he came to the cottage of poor Bessie, the old woman that had furnished Jock with a coal every day. When he put the question to her, the rock and the lint fell out of Bessie's hand, and she sat a while quite motionless.
"What war ye saying, goodman? War ye saying ye had lost your bonnie pet lamb?"
"Even sae, Bessie."
"Then, goodman, I fear you will never see her living again. What kind o' callant is that ye hae gotten? He's rather a suspicious looking chap. I tentit his claes a' spairged wi' blude the tither day, and baith this and some days bygane he has brought in his dinner to me, saying that he dought nae eat it."