The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

160 WAVERL:EY NOVEILS.
mair freedom to perform their popish ceremonies by darkness and in secrecy
than in the daylight-at least that was the case in my time; they wad hae
been disturbed in the day-time baith by the law and the commons of Fairport-they may be owerlooked now, as I have heard: the ~arld's changed
— I whiles hardly ken whether I am standing or sitting, or dead or living."
And looking round the fire, as if in the state of unconscious uncertainty
of which she complained, old Elspeth relapsed into her habitual and mechanical occupation of twirling the spindle.
" Eh, sirs!" said Jenny Rintherout, under her breath to her gossip, "it's
awsome to hear your gudemither break out in that gait -it's like the dead
speaking to the living."
" Ye're no that far wrang, lass; she minds naething o' what passes the
day-but set her on auld tales, and she can speak like a prent buke. She
kens mair about the Glenallan family than maist folk - the gudeman's
father was their fisher mony a day. Ye maun ken the papists make a great
point o' eating fish —it's nae bad part o' their religion that, whatever the
rest is - I could aye sell the best o' fish at the best o' prices for the Countess's ain table, grace be wi' her! especially on a Friday- But see as our
gudemither's hands and lips are ganging-now it's working in her head
like barm-she'll speak eneugh the night. While's she'll no speak a word
in a week, unless it be to the bits o' bairns."
" Hegh, Mrs. Mucklebackit, she's an awsome wife 1" said Jenny in reply.
Es D'ye think she's a'thegither right? Folk say she downa gang to the kirk,
or speak to the minister, and that she was ance a papist; but since her
gudeman's been dead, naebody kens what she is. D'ye think yoursell that
she's no uncanny?"
"Canny, ye silly tawpie! think ye ae auld wife's less canny than anither?
unless it be Alison Breck-I really couldna in conscience swear for her; I
have kent the boxes she set fill'd wi' partans, when" -
"''Whisht, whisht, Maggie," whispered Jenny-" your gudemither's gaun
to speak again."
"'Wasna there some ane o' ye said," asked the old sibyl, "or did I dream,
or was it revealed to me, that Joscelind, Lady Glenallan, is dead, an' buried
this night?"
" Yes, gudemither," screamed the daughter-in-law, "it's e'en sae."
"And e'en sae let it be," said old Elspeth; "she's made mony a sair heart
in her day-ay, e'en her ain son's-is he living yet?"
" Ay, he's living yet; but how lang he'll live-however, dinna ye mind
his coming and asking after you in the spring, and leaving siller?"
" It may be sae, Maggie -I dinna mind it - but a handsome gentleman
he was, and his father before him. Eh! if his father had lived, they might
hae been happy folk! But he was gane, and the lady carried it in-ower
and out-ower wi' her son, and garr'd him trow the thing he never suld hae
trowed, and do the thing he has repented a' his life, and will repent still,
were his life as lang as this lang and wearisome ane o' mine."
"0 what was it, grannie?" - and "What was it, gudemither?" -and
"What was it, Luckie Elspeth?" asked the children, the mother, and the
visitor, in one breath.
"Never ask what it was," answered the old sibyl, " but pray to God that
ye arena left to the pride and wilfu'ness o' your ain hearts: they may be
as powerful in a cabin as in a castle - I can bear a sad witness to that. 0
that weary and fearfu' night! will it never gang out o' my auld head?Eh! to see her lying on the floor wi' her lang hair dreeping wi' the salt
water! —Heaven will avenge on a' that had to do wi't. Sirs! is my son out
wi' the coble this windy e'en?"
"Na, na, mither —nae coble can keep the sea this wind; he's sleeping in
his bed out-ower yonder ahint the hallan."
"Is Steenie out at sea then?"