‘Dinna be sorry for us, honest man; there never was an act o’ mair justice than this that ye hae inflicted. Last night there were fifteen o’ us met at evening worship—we hadna tasted meat for days and nights; to preserve our miserable lives, we stole a sheep, dressed, and ate it; and wi’ this very arm that you hae disabled, did I grip and kill that sheep. It was a great sin, nae doubt, but the necessity was also great—I am sae far punished, and I hope the Lord will forgie the rest.’ ‘If he dinna,’ quo’ I, ‘he’s no what I think him.’ Then he began a lang serious harangue about the riches o’ free grace, and about the wickedness o’ our nature; and said, that we could do naething o’ oursells _but_ sin. I said it was a hard construction, but I couldna argy the point ava wi’ him—I never was a dab at these lang–winded stories. Then they cam on about prelacy and heresies, and something they ca’d the act of abjuration. I couldna follow him out at nae rate; but I says, I pit nae doubt, callants, but ye’re right, for ye hae proven to a’ the warld that ye think sae; and when a man feels conscious that he’s right, I never believe he can be far wrang in sic matters. But that’s no the point in question; let us consider what can be done for ye e’en now—Poor souls! God kens, my heart’s sair for ye; but this land’s mine, an’ a’ the sheep around ye, an’ ye’re welcome to half–a–dozen o’ the best o’ them in sic a case.’ ‘Ah! lack–a–day, lack–a–day! If ye be the gudeman o’ the Chapelhope, ye’ll rue the day that ever ye saw us. If it’s kend that ye countenanced us in word or deed, ye’re a ruined man; for the blood–hounds are near at hand, and they’ll herry ye out and in, but and ben—Lack–a–day! lack–a–day! in a wee while we may gang and come by the Chapelhope, and nouther see a lum reek nor hear a cock craw; for Clavers is on the one hand and Lag on the other, and they’re coming nearer and nearer us every day, and hemming us in sairer and sairer—renounce us and deny us, as ye wish to thrive.’ ‘Na, na, lads, let them come—let them come their ways! Gin they should take a’ the ewes and kye on the Chapelhope, I can stock it o’er again. I dinna gie a bawbee about your leagues, and covenants, and associations, for I think aye there’s a good deal o’ faction and dourness in them; but or I’ll desert a fellow–creature that’s oppressed, if he’s an honest man, and lippens to me, od, I’ll gie them the last drap o’ my heart’s bluid.’