"No," answered the mistress, "if indeed ane o' thae two even be livin; but few folk can tell muckle aboot the inside o' Cubby Grindstane's house, for he has a way o' meetin visitors at the door, an', stanin richt i' the gap, speaks them fair, an' gets them awa as sune as he can." "Was he ever married, ken ye?" said Carey, "or did ye ever hear o' ony ither body that lived wi' him?" "I dinna ken," replied she. "He hasna had a wife sin' he cam to Newabbey." "Is his dochter Jeanie, wham ye intend for my mither's servant, like her father?" said Carey. "As unlike as ony twa creatures can be," replied Mrs Monilaws. "He's a hunchbacked scarecraw, an' she's a bonny young lassie, whase beauty, a' the ill usage and starvation she has suffered, hasna been able to tak the blume frae; but, I fear, that bonny blume winna stand muckle langer, if indeed death hasna already blawn the witherin gouch o' his breath on't. But this day will expose a' the secrets o' the inside o' that house." "I see nae great reason," replied Carey, "for supposin there's ony great secret aboot it." "What maks him keep a'body oot, then, Mr Carey, man?" said the mistress. "What gies him that side-look, that fearfu girn, an' his slouchin walk! What maintains him?--for he works nane; and why winna Jeanie speak abune her breath when she sees him, or answer, when he's awa, ony question aboot him or his hoose?" "A' prejudice, Mrs Monilaws," replied Carey; "auld wive's wind eggs, hatched, nae doot, by a covey o' them, as they sit thegither till they clock. The puir man doesna want to be fashed wi' a set o' meddlin neebors." At four o'clock, Elder Willison, John Monilaws, and Carey, went to the house of Cubby Grindstane. The door was locked. They knocked, and asked admittance. "What want ye?" said a rough voice from within. "We hae some shoes to get mended," said John Monilaws. "I'm ill, an' no in a mendin way the day," replied Cubby, "Gang awa to Jamie Goodawls." "Jamie has owre muckle to do, and tauld us to gang to Cubby Grindstane," said the godly elder. "My awl's my ain," said Cubby, in worse humour; "an' sae lang as it's no thirled to the _soles_ o' men, I'm free frae the power o' their bodies. Awa wi' ye!" "You're in my district, Cubby," said the elder, "an' I hae the command o' Mr Singer, oor minister, to ca' upon ye, and inquire for the state o' yer soul, whilk, to reverse yer puir pun, is, we fear, owre closely thirled to yer _all_. Yer dochter has also a soul to be saved; and Mr Singer says he never saw you or her i' the kirk." "Weel, if I dinna trouble him, he has nae richt to trouble me," replied Cubby. "I say again, awa wi' ye! The law says a man's hoose is his castle, an' it says true." "That's an unfortunate allusion," whispered Carey to John Monilaws. "Castles are made to be attacked." "An' to be defended," answered Cubby, who had overheard the remark.