'Na, he's got some other birth in Edinburgh, they say; but gude day,
gudewife, I maun ride.' She followed him to his horse, and, while he
drew the girths of his saddle, adjusted the walise, and put on the
bridle, still plied him with questions concerning Mr. Bertram's death
and the fate of his daughter; on which, however, she could obtain
little information from the honest farmer.
'Did ye ever see a place they ca' Derncleugh, about a mile frae the
Place of Ellangowan?'
'I wot weel have I, gudewife. A wild-looking den it is, wi' a whin auld
wa's o' shealings yonder; I saw it when I gaed ower the ground wi' ane
that wanted to take the farm.'
'It was a blythe bit ance!' said Meg, speaking to herself. 'Did ye
notice if there was an auld saugh tree that's maist blawn down, but yet
its roots are in the earth, and it hangs ower the bit burn? Mony a day
hae I wrought my stocking and sat on my sunkie under that saugh.'
'Hout, deil's i' the wife, wi' her saughs, and her sunkies, and
Ellangowans. Godsake, woman, let me away; there's saxpence t' ye to buy
half a mutchkin, instead o' clavering about thae auld-warld stories.'
'Thanks to ye, gudeman; and now ye hae answered a' my questions, and
never speired wherefore I asked them, I'll gie you a bit canny advice,
and ye maunna speir what for neither. Tib Mumps will be out wi' the
stirrup-dram in a gliffing. She'll ask ye whether ye gang ower Willie's
Brae or through Conscowthart Moss; tell her ony ane ye like, but be
sure (speaking low and emphatically) to tak the ane ye dinna tell her.'
The farmer laughed and promised, and the gipsy retreated.
'Will you take her advice?' said Brown, who had been an attentive
listener to this conversation.
'That will I no, the randy quean! Na, I had far rather Tib Mumps kenn'd
which way I was gaun than her, though Tib's no muckle to lippen to
neither, and I would advise ye on no account to stay in the house a'
night.'
In a moment after Tib, the landlady, appeared with her stirrup-cup,
which was taken off. She then, as Meg had predicted, inquired whether
he went the hill or the moss road. He answered, the latter; and, having
bid Brown good-bye, and again told him, 'he depended on seeing him at
Charlie's Hope, the morn at latest,' he rode off at a round pace.
CHAPTER XXIII
Gallows and knock are too powerful on the highway
--Winter's Tale.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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