Chapter 13

Should I take aught of you? 'Tis true I begged now;
And what is worse than that, I stole a kindness;
And, what is worst of all, I lost my way in't.

Wit Without Money.

THE face of the little boy, sole witness of Caleb's infringement upon
the laws at once of property and hospitality, would have made a good
picture. He sat motionless, as if he had witnessed some of the spectral
appearances which he had heard told of in a winter's evening; and as he
forgot his own duty, and allowed his spit to stand still, he added to
the misfortunes of the evening by suffering the mutton to burn as black
as a coal. He was first recalled from his trance of astonishment by
a hearty cuff administered by Dame Lightbody, who, in whatever other
respects she might conform to her name, was a woman strong of person,
and expert in the use of her hands, as some say her deceased husband had
known to his cost.

"What garr'd ye let the roast burn, ye ill-clerkit gude-for-nought?"

"I dinna ken," said the boy.

"And where's that ill-deedy gett, Giles?"

"I dinna ken," blubbered the astonished declarant.

"And where's Mr. Balderstone?--and abune a', and in the name of council
and kirk-session, that I suld say sae, where's the broche wi' the
wild-fowl?" As Mrs. Girder here entered, and joined her mother's
exclamations, screaming into one ear while the old lady deafened the
other, they succeeded in so utterly confounding the unhappy urchin, that
he could not for some time tell his story at all, and it was only when
the elder boy returned that the truth began to dawn on their minds.

"Weel, sirs!" said Mrs. Lightbody, "wha wad hae thought o' Caleb
Balderstone playing an auld acquaintance sic a pliskie!"

"Oh, weary on him!" said the spouse of Mr. Girder; "and what am I to
say to the gudeman? He'll brain me, if there wasna anither woman in a'
Wolf"s Hope."

"Hout tout, silly quean," said the mother; "na, na, it's come to muckle,
but it's no come to that neither; for an he brain you he maun brain me,
and I have garr'd his betters stand back. Hands aff is fair play; we
maunna heed a bit flyting."

The tramp of horses now announced the arrival of the cooper, with the
minister. They had no sooner dismounted than they made for the kitchen
fire, for the evening was cool after the thunderstorm, and the woods wet
and dirty. The young gudewife, strong in the charms of her Sunday gown
and biggonets, threw herself in the way of receiving the first attack,
while her mother, like the veteran division of the Roman legion,
remained in the rear, ready to support her in case of necessity. Both
hoped