“Ey, ey,” answered the boor; “I hae some guess of that, and I trow thou be’st a bird of the same feather.—Howsomever, Madge, I redd thee keep hand off her, or I’se lend thee a whisterpoop.”
Several of the lower class of the parishioners now gathered round the strangers, and the cry arose among the boys that “there was a-going to be a fite between mad Madge Murdockson and another Bess of Bedlam.” But while the fry assembled with the humane hope of seeing as much of the fun as possible, the laced cocked-hat of the beadle was discerned among the multitude, and all made way for that person of awful authority. His first address was to Madge.
“What’s brought thee back again, thou silly donnot, to plague this parish? Hast thou brought ony more bastards wi’ thee to lay to honest men’s doors? or does thou think to burden us with this goose, that’s as hare-brained as thysell, as if rates were no up enow? Away wi’ thee to thy thief of a mother; she’s fast in the stocks at Barkston town-end— Away wi’ ye out o’ the parish, or I’se be at ye with the ratan.”
Madge stood sulky for a minute; but she had been too often taught submission to the beadle’s authority by ungentle means to feel courage enough to dispute it.
“And my mother—my puir auld mother, is in the stocks at Barkston!—This is a’ your wyte, Miss Jeanie Deans; but I’ll be upsides wi’ you, as sure as my name’s Madge Wildfire—I mean Murdockson—God help me, I forget my very name in this confused waste!”
So saying, she turned upon her heel, and went off, followed by all the mischievous imps of the village, some crying, “Madge, canst thou tell thy name yet?” some pulling the skirts of her dress, and all, to the best of their strength and ingenuity, exercising some new device or other to exasperate her into frenzy.
Jeanie saw her departure with infinite delight, though she wished that, in some way or other, she could have requited the service Madge had conferred upon her.
In the meantime, she applied to the beadle to know whether “there was any house in the village where she could be civilly entertained for her money, and whether she could be permitted to speak to the clergyman?”
“Ay, ay, we’se ha’ reverend care on thee; and I think,” answered the man of constituted authority, “that, unless thou answer the Rector all the better, we’se spare thy money, and gie thee lodging at the parish charge, young woman.”
“Where am I to go then?” said Jeanie, in some alarm.