"
"Come, dame," said I, "it is a long lane that has no turning. I
will not keep from you that I have heard something of this poor
fellow, Chrystal Croftangry. He has sown his wild oats, as they
say, and has settled into a steady, respectable man."
"And wha tell'd ye that tidings?" said she, looking sharply at
me.
"Not, perhaps, the best judge in the world of his character, for
it was himself, dame."
"And if he tell'd you truth, it was a virtue he did not aye use
to practise," said Christie.
"The devil!" said I, considerably nettled; "all the world held
him to be a man of honour."
"Ay, ay! he would hae shot onybody wi' his pistols and his guns
that had evened him to be a liar. But if he promised to pay an
honest tradesman the next term-day, did he keep his word then?
And if he promised a puir, silly lass to make gude her shame, did
he speak truth then? And what is that but being a liar, and a
black-hearted, deceitful liar to boot?"
My indignation was rising, but I strove to suppress it; indeed, I
should only have afforded my tormentor a triumph by an angry
reply.
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