He was awake to every passing incident with a feverish alertness.
"Let me go," he said again, with a look of supplicatory appeal.
Old Matthew got up and opened the door.
"Sista, there's some betterment in the weather, now; it teem't awhile ago." "What of that ?" asked Ralph; but he understood the observation.
"For God's sake let me go," cried Sim in agony, looking first at one face and then at another.
"No," said Ralph, and sat down beside him.

Robbie had gone back to his bench.
"Ye'll want the bull-grips to keep _him_ quiet," said old Matthew to Ralph, with a sneer.
"And the ass's barnicles to keep your tongue in your mouth," added Ralph sternly.
"For fault of wise men fools sit on the bench, or we should hev none of this," continued Matthew.

"I reckon some one that's here is nigh ax't oot by Auld Nick in the kirk of the nether world." "Then take care you're not there yourself to give something at the bridewain." Old Mathew grumbled something under his breath.
There was a long silence.

Ralph had rarely been heard to speak so bitterly.

It was clear that opposition had gone far enough.