"Had ye never ony suspicions o' that kind, John?" "No; I canna say that I had." "None in the least? Weel, that beats the world!" "O, haud your tongue, haud your tongue! We hae great reason to be thankfu' that we are as we are!" "How as we are?" "That we arena stocks or stones, or brute beasts, as the Minister o' Traquair says. But I hope in God there is nae siccan a thing about my master's place as an unearthly visitor." The smith shook his head, and uttered a long hem, hem, hem! He had felt the powerful effect of that himself, and wished to make the same appeal to the feelings and longings after information of John Broadcast. The bait took; for the latent spark of superstition, not to say any thing about curiosity, was kindled in the heart of honest John, and there being no wit in the head to counteract it, the portentous hint had its full sway. John's eyes stelled in his head, and his visage grew long, assuming something of the hue of dried clay in winter. "Hech, man, but that's an awsome story!" exclaimed he. "Folks hae great reason to be thankfu' that they are as they are. It is truly an awsome story." "Ye ken, it just beats the world for that," quoth the smith. "And is it really thought that this Laird made away wi' our auld master?" said John. The smith shook his head again, and gave a strait wink with his eyes. "Weel, I hae great reason to be thankfu' that I never heard siccan a story as that!" said John. "Wha was it tauld you a' about it?" "It was nae less a man than our mathewmatical Dominie," said the smith; "he that kens a' things, and can prove a proposition to the nineteenth part of a hair. But he is terrified the tale should spread; and therefore ye maunna say a word about it." "Na, na; I hae great reason to be thankfu' I can keep a secret as weel as the maist feck o' men, and better than the maist feck o' women. What did he say? Tell us a' that he said." "It is not so easy to repeat what he says, for he has sae mony lang-nebbit words, which just beat the world. But he said, though it was only a supposition, yet it was easily made manifest by positive demonstration." "Did you ever hear the like o' that! Now, havena we reason to be thankfu' that we are as we are? Did he say that it was by poison that he was taken off, or that he was strangled?" "Na; I thought he said it was by a collar, or a collary, or something to that purpose." "Then, it wad appear there is no doubt of it? I think, the Doctor has reason to be thankfu' that he's no taken up. Is not that strange?" "O, ye ken, it just beats the world!" "He deserves to be torn at young horses' tails," said the ploughman. "Ay, or nippit to death with red-hot pinchers," quoth the smith. "Or harrowed to death, like the children of Ammon," continued the ploughman. "Na, I'll tell you what should be done wi' him--he should just be docked and fired like a farcied horse," quoth the smith. "Od help ye, man, I could beat the world for laying on a proper poonishment."