‘Have ye gotten the billet, Francie said she; and when he had handed it over, and she had read and burned it, ‘Did you see anybody?’ she asked. ‘I saw the laird,’ said Francie. ‘He didna see you, though?’ asked his mother. ‘Deil a fear,’ from Francie. ‘Francie!’ she cried. ‘What’s that I hear? an aith? The Lord forgive me, have I broughten forth a brand for the burning, a fagot for hell-fire?’ ‘I’m very sorry, ma’am,’ said Francie. ‘I humbly beg the Lord’s pardon, and yours, for my wickedness.’ ‘H’m,’ grunted the lady. ‘Did ye see nobody else?’ ‘No, ma’am,’ said Francie, with the face of an angel, ‘except Jock Crozer, that gied me the billet.’ ‘Jock Crozer!’ cried the lady. ‘I’ll Crozer them! Crozers indeed! What next? Are we to repose the lives of a suffering remnant in Crozers? The whole clan of them wants hanging, and if I had my way of it, they wouldna want it long. Are you aware, sir, that these Crozers killed your forebear at the kirk-door?’ ‘You see, he was bigger ’n me,’ said Francie. ‘Jock Crozer!’ continued the lady. ‘That’ll be Clement’s son, the biggest thief and reiver in the country-side. To trust a note to him! But I’ll give the benefit of my opinions to Lady Whitecross when we two forgather. Let her look to herself! I have no patience with half-hearted carlines, that complies on the Lord’s day morning with the kirk, and comes taigling the same night to the conventicle. The one or the other! is what I say: hell or heaven—Haddie’s abominations or the pure word of God dreeping from the lips of Mr. Arnot, ‘“Like honey from the honeycomb That dreepeth, sweeter far.”’ My lady was now fairly launched, and that upon two congenial subjects: the deficiencies of the Lady Whitecross and the turpitudes of the whole Crozer race—which, indeed, had never been conspicuous for respectability. She pursued the pair of them for twenty minutes on the clock with wonderful animation and detail, something of the pulpit manner, and the spirit of one possessed. ‘O hellish compliance!’ she exclaimed. ‘I would not suffer a complier to break bread with Christian folk. Of all the sins of this day there is not one so God-defying, so Christ-humiliating, as damnable compliance’: the boy standing before her meanwhile, and brokenly pursuing other thoughts, mainly of Haddo and Janet, and Jock Crozer stripping off his jacket. And yet, with all his distraction, it might be argued that he heard too much: his father and himself being ‘compliers’—that is to say, attending the church of the parish as the law required.