“It baffles me where he got the brass frae to pay his rent,” said one of the shepherds. “Where did he get it, schoolmaster?”
Monsey answered nothing. The topic was evidently a fearsome thing to him. His quips and cracks were already gone.
“Where did he get it, I say?” repeated the man; with the air of one who was propounding a trying problem.
Old Matthew removed his pipe.
“A fool may ask mair questions ner a doctor can answer.”
The shepherd shifted in his seat.
“That Wilson was na shaks nowther,” continued Matthew quietly. “He was accustomed to 'tummel' his neighbors, and never paused to inquire into their bruises. He'd olas the black dog on his back—leastways latterly. Ey, the braizzant taistrel med have done something for Ralph an he lived langer. He was swearing what he'd do, the ungratefu' fool; auld Wilson was a beadless body.”
“They say he threatened Ralph's father, Angus,” said Monsey, with a perceptible shiver.
“Ay, but Angus is bad to bang. I mind his dingin' ower a bull on its back. A girt man, Angus, and varra dreadfu' when he's angert.”
“Dus'ta mind the fratch thoo telt me aboot atween Angus and auld Wilson?” said Reuben Thwaite to Matthew Branthwaite.