“Keep back, sir, as best sets ye,” said the Bailie, as Andrew pressed forward to catch the answer to some question I had asked about Campbell. —“ye wad fain ride the fore-horse, an ye wist how.—That chield's aye for being out o' the cheese-fat he was moulded in.—Now, as for your questions, Mr. Osbaldistone, now that chield's out of ear-shot, I'll just tell you it's free to you to speer, and it's free to me to answer, or no—Gude I canna say muckle o' Rob, puir chield; ill I winna say o' him, for, forby that he's my cousin, we're coming near his ain country, and there may be ane o' his gillies ahint every whin-bush, for what I ken—And if ye'll be guided by my advice, the less ye speak about him, or where we are gaun, or what we are gaun to do, we'll be the mair likely to speed us in our errand. For it's like we may fa' in wi' some o' his unfreends—there are e'en ower mony o' them about—and his bonnet sits even on his brow yet for a' that; but I doubt they'll be upsides wi' Rob at the last—air day or late day, the fox's hide finds aye the flaying knife.”
“I will certainly,” I replied, “be entirely guided by your experience.”
“Right, Mr. Osbaldistone—right. But I maun speak to this gabbling skyte too, for bairns and fules speak at the Cross what they hear at the ingle-side.—D'ye hear, you, Andrew—what's your name?—Fairservice!”
Andrew, who at the last rebuff had fallen a good way behind, did not choose to acknowledge the summons.
“Andrew, ye scoundrel!” repeated Mr. Jarvie; “here, sir here!”
“Here is for the dog.” said Andrew, coming up sulkily.
“I'll gie you dog's wages, ye rascal, if ye dinna attend to what I say t'ye—We are gaun into the Hielands a bit”—
“I judged as muckle,” said Andrew.
“Haud your peace, ye knave, and hear what I have to say till ye—We are gaun a bit into the Hielands”—
“Ye tauld me sae already,” replied the incorrigible Andrew.