“An’ when he was dressed in his sharpshooter’s dress,—ah, sir, but my heart was aye too, too susceptible. I will not trouble you, sir, wi’ the history o’ our love, which would have come to the most happy termination, but for a forward cutty of a companion o’ mine, of the name of Jess Barbour. But there can be nae doubt but Pate Peters was a true lover o’ me; for he used to come hame wi’ me frae Mr Dumdrone’s preaching whenever Jess wasna there, and I’m sure his heart burned wi’ a reciprocal flame. But ae night, sir,—I’ll ne’er forget that night!—I was coming hame frae a tea-drinking at Mr Warps’, the manufacturer on the other side o’ Clyde, when just as I got to the end o’ the wooden brig next the Green, wha does I meet but Pate Peters!
“Weel, sir, it was a moonlight night,—just such as lovers walk about in, an’ Pate and me linked arm-in-arm, walked and walked, round the Green o’ Glasgow. We stopped by the side o’ Clyde, an’ lookit up at the moon.
“‘Miss Peggy,’ says he, ‘do ye see that moon?’
“‘Yes,’ says I.
“‘That changeable moon,’ says he, ‘is the emblem o’ falseness in love.’
“‘Yes, Mr Peters,’ said I, an’ my heart was ready to melt.
“‘But I will never be false in love!’ says he.
“‘I hope you will be true until death,’ says I.
“‘To be sure I will, Miss Brodie,’ says he; these were his very words.”
“Ah, Miss Peggy,” I said, as I saw she was unable to get on, “that is quite affecting.”