"Indeed! you flatter me very much."
"Nae flattery, Mr Dunshunner—name! I'm a plain honest man, that's a', and naebody can say that Wattie Binkie, has blawn in their lug. And sae ye're comin forrard for the burrows? It's a bauld thing, sir—a bauld thing, and a great honour ye seek. No that I think ye winna do honour to it, but it's a great trust for sae young a man; a heavy responsibility, as a body may say, to hang upon a callant's shouthers."
"I hope, Mr Binkie, that my future conduct may show that I can at least act up to my professions."
"Nae doubt, sir—I'm no misdoubtin' ye, and to say the truth ye profess weel. I've read yer address, sir, and I like yer principles—they're the stench auld Whig anes—keep a' we can to ourselves, and haud a gude grup. But wha's bringing ye forrard? Wha signed yer requisition? No the Kittleweem folk, I hope?—That wad be a sair thing against ye."
"Why, no—certainly not. The fact is, Mr Binkie, that I have not seen the requisition. Its contents were communicated by a third party, on whom I have the most perfect reliance; and, as I understood there was some delicacy in the matter, I did not think it proper to insist upon a sight of the signatures."
The Provost gave a long whistle.
"I see it noo!" he said, "I see it! I ken't there was something gaun on forbye the common. Ye're a lucky man, Mr Dunshunner, and ye're election is as sure as won. Ye've been spoken to by them ye ken o'!"
"Upon my word—I do not understand—"
"Ay—ay! Ye're richt to be cautious. Weel I wat they are kittle cattle to ride the water on. But wha was't, sir,—wha was't? Ye needna be feared of me. I ken how to keep a secret."
"Really, Mr Binkie, except through a third party, as I have told you already I have had no communication with any one."