'I wuss we may na hae dune the laad some wrang,' sighed Angus Kilgour. 'He gangs like's he thocht nae shame, an' gin there cam few to bid him "Gude bi wi' ye," thae few war the first e'y land. See to the young Captain, hoo he's crackin' til Eppie an' the bairn 'at a' body said was merry-begotten. That looks like 's he didna think sae.' 'Hoot awa!' said Ebenezer, who had become a man of consequence through the prominent part he had taken in the minister hunt, and would tolerate no gainsaying. 'Hae na we scripter for't, Angus, 'at evil men an' seducers wax warse an' warse? An' think ye, 'at gin a chield was sae far left til himsel as yon puir laad maun hae been, he wad turn round that easy an' own til his fau't? Na, na! The De'il's a hard master 'at's aye wantin' mair service. An' as for puir Mester Brown, I'm sure I wuss him nae ill, but juist 'at he may be brocht til own til his transgressions. He's gangin' the gate o' thae wanderin' staars for whum is reserved the blackness o' darkness! I think naething o' yer young Captain comin' to see him awa. He's been danderin' round him ilka day sin' he fell out wi' his flock, or sin' they _fand_ him out I suld say. He's juist a laad o' Belial 'at cares naething for the sauls o' hiz puir folk, (dizna he get a' the nails an' the pleughs an' the iron wark for the property doon by at Inverlyon?) an' he wants to pu' down the wa's o' Zion. He's juist like Tobiah the Ammonite 'at fashed Nehemiah langsyne, but it's no a tod like him rinnin' on the wa's o' our Jerusalem, 'at's gaun to kick them ower. An' as for the Laird comin' wi' his dochter, he's been sair left til himsel', but we a' ken he's pridefu' an' winna be direcket by puirer folk, an' that's what's made him sae camstairy. But I'm juist winnerin' 'at Mistress Sangster (an' sic a graand christian as she is!) lets him gang sic daftlike gates!'