'Trust not in princes nor men's sons,' as the Psalm says, 'an' the ministers are kittle cattle to tackle wi'. Saw na ye whause house yon was he cam out o', richt afore yer eyen?'
'I ken Tibbie Tirpie brawly, an' it's her bides up yonder.'
'An' what kind tak ye Tibbie to be? She's no a kirk member ava, I'm thinkin'; a bonny ane for a minister to be sitten' aside a' Sabbath forenicht!'
'I ken naething against her; but gin she be worldly or waur, she has mair need o' the minister's advice.'
'An' there's that hizzie, her dochter! Ye'll be for makin' out the minister was adveesin her belike?'
'An' what for no? Gin she be young an' fu' o' daffin' she'll a' the mair need to be adveesed.'
'Young an' fu' o' daffin'! Ye're for letting her down easy. There's mair wrang nor that, I'm feared. Some folk say she's nae better nor she suld be. But there's nae gude threapin' wi' you. Ye'se think nae harm--ye'se tell me he was sympatheezin wi' her in her misfortun.'
'Whisht man! Let the lassie's gude name be gin ye hae nae proof.'
'But there maun be pruif some gate seein' it's true. The gentles hae heard tell o't. An' what's mair, it's them 'at's sayin' up by at Inchbracken 'at Mister Brown's at the fundation o' the hale mischief. Sae noo ye ken a' about it, an ye'll own yersel it's gye an' like it, to see him slinkin' up here after dark. An' ye'll mind hoo you an' me saw him bringin' hame the bairn yon mornin' early, whan the roads war that bad there wasna like to be ony body about, to see what he was after. We a' ken hoo he gaed awa for the bairn the verra nicht 'at Tibbie cam hame. Think o't! Tummas. Pet that an' that thegither, an' syne ye'll may be hae mair charity, an' no be accuisin' me o' evil speakin'. Charity thinketh no evil, sae what for suld ye be thinkin' I wad tak awa a decent lass's gude name? But gin she be na decent, an' hae nae richt til the gude name, I see nae wrang to say sae. Let the skelpet wein skirl! What says Scripture? Is na the maugistrate for the terror o' evil doers an' the praise o' them 'at do weel? An' be na I wan in authority? The Convener o' the Deacons' Court? Tak tent, Tummas, and dinna be impuitin' yer ain sinfu' thochts til ither folk, an' them folk setten ower ye in the Lord! Speak not evil of dignities! It's against a' Scripter--an' I may sae as weel, in a' luve and faithfulness, seein I hae a kin' o' charge o' ye, an' may hae to gie account, ye're juist a wee pridefu' whiles, an' ower set in yer ain notions, for a humble private member o' the kirk. Think o't, Tummas, an' lay't to heart!'
Tummas was silenced, fairly overthrown and carried away by the torrent of words, and every meek stirring of self-assertion completely devoured out. He had meant to defend his pastor from what he thought were improbable and poorly supported suspicions; but he was meek and diffident, and accustomed to be over-borne by his arrogant companion, so he held his peace, content to cherish unuttered the assurance that there was some mistake, and to leave time to disabuse others of their misconceptions.