“Ye’re right, Jeanie,” quoth the miller, “ye’re very right; and gie me doun the Bible, and I’se read it to you.”
Just as it was dune, the door flees open, an’ in comes Geordie Wilson, clean out o’ breath wi’ running.
“What’s the matter now, man?” says William.
“I’m sure it’s something gude,” says James; “I ken by his ee.”
“Ou aye, ou aye,” cries Geordie, “grand news! grand news!” an’ he gaspit for breath.
“Tak a wee thought time,” says James; “and now tell us.”
“Weel, ye ken,” says Geordie, “that we lost four cows, and an auld horse and a young ane, by the fire, an’ a sair loss it was; an’ when I heard what the king said, I wonder’t, and I better wonder’t, what could be the meaning o’t. An’ Jeanie, she says to me, ‘If I was you, in place o’ standing wondering there, I wad be aff to the Hope;’ sae aff I rins; and when I gets up till’t, lo and behold! I sees sax fine cows, an’ twa as pretty naigs as e’er I set een on, a’ thrang puing awa at the grass; an’ as I’m standing glowerin’ at them, an’ wondering whaur they cam frae, a man comes up to me, an’ he says, ‘Are ye Geordie Wilson?’ says he. ‘That’s me,’ says I.
“‘Weel then,’ says he, ‘there’s a paper for ye’; an’ as he put it into my hand he began to move awa.
“‘But will ye no stap in, frien’, an’ tak something?’ says I.
“‘No, no,’ cries he, ‘I daurna bide;’ an’ aff he rins.