“Lost it! to be sure I lost it,” replied the sexton, “for I couldna hae played pew upon a dry hemlock; but I might hae dune weel eneugh, for I keepit the wage and the free house, and little to do but play on the fiddle to them, but for Allan, last Lord Ravenswood, that was far waur than ever his father was.”

“What,” said the Master, “did my father—­I mean, did his father’s son—­this last Lord Ravenswood, deprive you of what the bounty of his father allowed you?”

“Ay, troth did he,” answered the old man; “for he loot his affairs gang to the dogs, and let in this Sir William Ashton on us, that will gie naething for naething, and just removed me and a’ the puir creatures that had bite and soup at the castle, and a hole to put our heads in, when things were in the auld way.”

“If Lord Ravenswood protected his people, my friend, while he had the means of doing so, I think they might spare his memory,” replied the Master.

“Ye are welcome to your ain opinion, sir,” said the sexton; “but ye winna persuade me that he did his duty, either to himsell or to huz puir dependent creatures, in guiding us the gate he has done; he might hae gien us life-rent tacks of our bits o’ houses and yards; and me, that’s an auld man, living in you miserable cabin, that’s fitter for the dead than the quick, and killed wi’ rheumatise, and John Smith in my dainty bit mailing, and his window glazen, and a’ because Ravenswood guided his gear like a fule!”

“It is but too true,” said Ravenswood, conscience-struck; “the penalties of extravagance extend far beyond the prodigal’s own sufferings.”  “However,” said the sexton, “this young man Edgar is like to avenge my wrangs on the haill of his kindred.”  “Indeed?” said Ravenswood; “why should you suppose so?”

“They say he is about to marry the daughter of Leddy Ashton; and let her leddyship get his head ance under her oxter, and see you if she winna gie his neck a thraw.  Sorra a bit, if I were him!  Let her alane for hauding a’thing in het water that draws near her.  Sae the warst wish I shall wish the lad is, that he may take his ain creditable gate o’t, and ally himsell wi’ his father’s enemies, that have taken his broad lands and my bonny kail-yard from the lawful owners thereof.”

Cervantes acutely remarks, that flattery is pleasing even from the mouth of a madman; and censure, as well as praise, often affects us, while we despise the opinions and motives on which it is founded and expressed.  Ravenswood, abruptly reiterating his command that Alice’s funeral should be attended to, flung away from the sexton, under the painful impression that the great as well as the small vulgar would think of his engagement with Lucy like this ignorant and selfish peasant.

“And I have stooped to subject myself to these calumnies, and am rejected notwithstanding!  Lucy, your faith must be true and perfect as the diamond to compensate for the dishonour which men’s opinions, and the conduct of your mother, attach to the heir of Ravenswood!”