“Did ye hear yon, Hillocks? Hoo dae ye feel? A’ ‘ll no deny a’ ‘m lifted.”
Half-way to the Junction Hillocks had recovered, and began to grasp the situation.
“Tell ‘us what he said. A’ wud like to hae it exact for Drumsheugh.”
“Thae’s the eedentical words, an’ they’re true; there’s no a man in Drumtochty disna ken that, except ane.”
“An’ wha’s that Jamie?”
“It’s Weelum MacLure himsel’. Man, a’ ‘ve often girned that he sud fecht awa’ for us a’, and maybe dee before he kent that he had githered mair luve than ony man in the Glen.
“‘A’ ‘m prood tae hae met ye,’ says Sir George, an’ him the greatest doctor in the land. ‘Yir an honour tae oor profession.’
“Hillocks, a’ wudna hae missed it for twenty notes,” said James Soutar, cynic in ordinary to the parish of Drumtochty.