"
But the myrmidons of Dr. Lundin showed in this case no alacrity to do
his bidding. Hob Anster even ventured to remonstrate in the name of
himself and his brethren. "To be sure he was to do his honour's
bidding; and for a' that folks said about the skill and witcheries of
Mother Nicneven, he would put his trust in God, and his hand on her
collar, without dreadour. But she was no common spaewife, this Mother
Nicneven, like Jean Jopp that lived in the Bricrie-baulk. She had
lords and lairds that would ruffle for her. There was Moncrieff of
Tippermalloch, that was Popish, and the laird of Carslogie, a kend
Queen's man, were in the fair, with wha kend how mony swords and
bucklers at their back; and they would be sure to make a break-out if
the officers meddled with the auld Popish witch-wife, who was sae weel
friended; mair especially as the laird's best men, such as were not in
the castle, were in Edinburgh with him, and he doubted his honour the
Doctor would find ower few to make a good backing, if blades were
bare."
The doctor listened unwillingly to this prudential counsel, and was
only comforted by the faithful promise of his satellite, that "the old
woman should," as he expressed it, "be ta'en canny the next time she
trespassed on the bounds."
"And in that event," said the Doctor to his companion, "fire and fagot
shall be the best of her welcome."
This he spoke in hearing of the dame herself, who even then, and in
passing the Doctor, shot towards him from under her gray eyebrows a
look of the most insulting and contemptuous superiority.
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