The others I pitied, but him I hated and feared.

On him and his kind were to be blamed all the madness of the land, which had sent my father overseas and desolated our dwelling.

So long as crazy prophets preached brimstone and fire, so long would rough-shod soldiers and cunning lawyers profit by their folly; and often I prayed in those days that the two evils might devour each other.
It was time that I was cutting loose from this ill-omened company and continuing my road Edinburgh-wards.

We were lying in a wide trough of the Pentland Hills, which I well remembered.

The folk of the plains called it the Cauldstaneslap, and it made an easy path for sheep and cattle between the Lothians and Tweeddale.