Chapter 13 - Page 2

to protract the discovery of what had happened--the mother, by
interposing her bustling person betwixt Mr. Girder and the fire, and the
daughter, by the extreme cordiality with which she received the minister
and her husband, and the anxious fears which she expressed lest they
should have "gotten cauld." "Cauld!" quoted the husband, surlily, for he
was not of that class of lords and masters whose wives are viceroys
over them, "we'll be cauld eneugh, I think, if ye dinna let us in to the
fire."

And so saying, he burst his way through both lines of defence; and, as
he had a careful eye over his property of every kind, he perceived at
one glance the absence of the spit with its savoury burden. "What the
deil, woman----"

"Fie for shame!" exclaimed both the women; "and before Mr.
Bide-the-Bent!"

"I stand reproved," said the cooper; "but--"

"The taking in our mouths the name of the great enemy of our souls,"
said Mr. Bide-the-Bent--

"I stand reproved," said the cooper.

"--Is an exposing ourselves to his temptations," continued the reverend
monitor, "and in inviting, or, in some sort, a compelling, of him to lay
aside his other trafficking with unhappy persons, and wait upon those in
whose speech his name is frequent."

"Weel, weel, Mr. Bide-the-Bent, can a man do mair than stand reproved?"
said the cooper; "but jest let me ask the women what for they hae dished
the wild-fowl before we came."

"They arena dished, Gilbert," said his wife; "but--but an accident----"

"What accident?" said Girder, with flashing eyes. "Nae ill come ower
them, I trust? Uh?"

His wife, who stood much in awe of him, durst not reply, but her mother
bustled up to her support, with arms disposed as if they were about to
be a-kimbo at the next reply.--"I gied them to an acquaintance of mine,
Gibbie Girder; and what about it now?"

Her excess of assurance struck Girder mute for an instant. "And YE gied
the wild-fowl, the best end of our christening dinner, to a friend of
yours, ye auld rudas! And what might HIS name be, I pray ye?"

"Just worthy Mr. Caleb Balderstone--frae Wolf's Crag," answered Marion,
prompt and prepared for battle.

Girder's wrath foamed over all restraint. If there was a circumstance
which could have added to the resentment he felt, it was that this
extravagant donation had been made in favour of our friend Caleb,
towards whom, for reasons to which the reader is no stranger, he
nourished a decided resentment. He raised his riding-wand against the