Now there was a lass on the rock, and I think she had little to do, for it was nae place far dacent weemen; but it seems she was bonny, and her and Tam Dale were very well agreed.  It befell that Peden was in the gairden his lane at the praying when Tam and the lass cam by; and what should the lassie do but mock with laughter at the sant’s devotions?  He rose and lookit at the twa o’ them, and Tam’s knees knoitered thegether at the look of him.  But whan he spak, it was mair in sorrow than in anger.  “Poor thing, poor thing!” says he, and it was the lass he lookit at.  “I hear you skirl and laugh,” he says, “but the Lord has a deid shot prepared for you, and at that surprising judgment ye shall skirl but the ae time!” Shortly thereafter she was daundering on the craigs wi’ twa-three sodgers, and it was a blawy day.  There cam a gowst of wind, claught her by the coats, and awa’ wi’ her bag and baggage.  And it was remarked by the sodgers that she gied but the ae skirl.

Nae doubt this judgment had some weicht upon Tam Dale; but it passed again and him none the better.  Ae day he was flyting wi’ anither sodger-lad.  “Deil hae me!” quo’ Tam, for he was a profane swearer.  And there was Peden glowering at him, gash an’ waefu’; Peden wi’ his lang chafts an’ luntin’ een, the maud happed about his kist, and the hand of him held out wi’ the black nails upon the finger-nebs—­for he had nae care of the body.  “Fy, fy, poor man!” cries he, “the poor fool man! Deil hae me, quo’ he; an’ I see the deil at his oxter.”  The conviction of guilt and grace cam in on Tam like the deep sea; he flang doun the pike that was in his hands—­“I will nae mair lift arms against the cause o’ Christ!” says he, and was as gude’s word.  There was a sair fyke in the beginning, but the governor, seeing him resolved, gied him his dischairge, and he went and dwallt and merried in North Berwick, and had aye a gude name with honest folk frae that day on.

It was in the year seeventeen hunner and sax that the Bass cam in the hands o’ the Da’rymples, and there was twa men soucht the chairge of it.  Baith were weel qualified, for they had baith been sodgers in the garrison, and kent the gate to handle solans, and the seasons and values of them.  Forby that they were baith—­or they baith seemed—­earnest professors and men of comely conversation.  The first of them was just Tam Dale, my faither.  The second was ane Lapraik, whom the folk ca’d Tod Lapraik maistly, but whether for his name or his nature I could never hear tell.  Weel, Tam gaed to see Lapraik upon this business, and took me, that was a toddlin’ laddie, by the hand.  Tod had his dwallin’ in the lang loan benorth the kirkyaird.  It’s a dark uncanny loan, forby that the kirk has aye had an ill name since the days o’ James the Saxt and the deevil’s cantrips played therein when the Queen was on the seas; and as for Tod’s house, it was in the mirkest end, and was little liked by some that kenned the best.