"What passed, say ye? O, there wasna muckle: I was in a great passion, but she was dung doitrified a wee. When she gaed to put the key i' the door, up it flew to the fer wa'. 'Bless ye, jaud, what's the meaning o' this?' quo she. 'Ye hae left the door open, ye tawpie!' quo she. 'The ne'er o' that I did,' quo I, 'or may my shakel bane never turn another key.' When we got the candle lightit, a' the house was in a hoad-road. 'Bessy, my woman,' quo she, 'we are baith ruined and undone creatures.' 'The deil a bit,' quo I; 'that I deny positively.' H'mh! to speak o' a lass o' my age being ruined and undone! I never had muckle except what was within a good jerkin, an' let the thief ruin me there wha can." "Do you remember aught else that your mistress said on the occasion? Did you hear her blame any person?" "O, she made a gread deal o' grumphing an' groaning about the misfortune, as she ca'd it, an' I think she said it was a part o' the ruin, wrought by the Ringans, or some sic name. 'They'll hae't a'! They'll hae't a'!' cried she, wringing her hands; 'a'! they'll hae' a', an' hell wi't, an' they'll get them baith.' 'Aweel, that's aye some satisfaction,' quo I." "Whom did she mean by the Ringans, do you know?" "I fancy they are some creatures that she has dreamed about, for I think there canna be as ill folks living as she ca's them." "Did you never hear say that the prisoner at the bar there, Mrs. Calvert, or Bell Calvert, was the robber of her house; or that she was one of the Ringans?" "Never. Somebody tauld her lately that ane Bell Calvert robbed her house, but she disna believe it. Neither do I." "What reasons have you for doubting it?" "Because it was nae woman's fingers that broke up the bolts an' the locks that were torn open that night." "Very pertinent, Bessy. Come then within the bar, and look, at these articles on the table. Did you ever see these silver spoons before?" "I hae seen some very like them, and whaever has seen siller spoons has done the same." "Can you swear you never saw them before?" "Na, na, I wadna swear to ony siller spoons that ever war made, unless I had put a private mark on them wi' my ain hand, an' that's what I never did to ane." "See, they are all marked with a C." "Sae are a' the spoons in Argyle, an' the half o' them in Edinburgh I think. A C is a very common letter, an' so are a' the names that begin wi't. Lay them by, lay them by, an' gie the poor woman her spoons again. They are marked wi' her ain name, an' I hae little doubt they are hers, an' that she has seen better days." "Ah, God bless her heart!" sighed the prisoner; and that blessing was echoed in the breathings of many a feeling breast. "Did you ever see this gown before, think you?" "I hae seen ane very like it." "Could you not swear that gown was your mistress's once?"