"Eh—ah—no—it cannot be. It is! Eh, ye born deevil, ye robber—ye catheran! Can this be you?"
"E'en as ye see me, Bailie!" was the short response.
"Ye cheat-the-gallows, ye reiving villain—what think you is the value of your head now!" cried the Bailie.
"Umph! Fairly weighed and Dutch measure," came the answer, "it might weigh down one provost's, four bailies', a town-clerk's, six deacons', besides stent-masters'—!"
"Tell over your sins," interrupted Mr. Nicol Jarvie, "and prepare ye, for if I speak the word—"
"But ye will not speak the word," said the Highlander, coolly.
| "He took the lantern from his servant Mattie, and, holding it up, proceeded to examine the stern, set countenance of Frank's guide. That stout-hearted Celt did not move a muscle under the inspection, but with his arms folded carelessly, his heel beating time to the lilt of his whistled strathspey, he came very near to deceiving the acuteness of his investigator." |
"And why should I not?" said the Bailie, "answer me that—why should I not?"
"For three sufficient reasons, Bailie Jarvie," he retorted, "first, for auld langsyne. Second, for the sake of the auld wife ayont the fire at Stuckavrallachan, that made some mixture of our bloods—to my shame be it spoken that I should have a cousin a weaver. And lastly, Bailie, because if I saw a sign of your betraying me, I would plaster the wall there with your brains, long before any hand of man could rescue you!"
"Ye are a bold, desperate villain, sir," retorted the undaunted Bailie, "and ye ken that I ken ye to be so—but that were it only my own risk, I would not hesitate a moment."