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 elder matron, but she stood firm, collected in herself, and undauntedly brandished the iron ladle with which she had just been “flambing” (Anglice, basting) the roast of mutton.  Her weapon was certainly the better, and her arm not the weakest of the two; so that Gilbert thought it safest to turn short off upon his wife, who had by this time hatched a sort of hysterical whine, which greatly moved the minister, who was in fact as simple and kind-hearted a creature as ever breathed.  “And you, ye thowless jade, to sit still and see my substance disponed upon to an idle, drunken, reprobate, worm-eaten serving-man, just because he kittles the lugs o’ a silly auld wife wi’ useless clavers, and every twa words a lee?  I’ll gar you as gude——­”

Here the minister interposed, both by voice and action, while Dame Lightbody threw herself in front of her daughter, and flourished her ladle.