"God knows that, bailie.

I wad be the vera last man to hurt a hair o' his gray head; why he is Margaret's father!" "Still, John, though we hae nae warrant to hold thee, we are beholden to do sae; an' thou maun come wi' us," said Bailie Inkster.
"Wrang has nae warrant at ony time, an' ye will no touch my lad," said Alison, rising and standing before her son.
"Come, dame, keep a still tongue." "My tongue's no under thy belt, Tulloch; but it's weel kenned that since thou wranged us thou ne'er liked us." "Mother, mother, dinna fash theesel'.

It's naught at a' but a mistake; an' I'll gae wi' Bailie Inkster, if he's feared to tak my word." "I could tak thy word fain enough, John--" "But the thing isna possible, Inkster.

Besides, if he were missing Monday morn, I, being i' some sort a relation, wad be under suspicion o' helping him awa." "Naebody wad e'er suspect thee o' a helping or mercifu' deed, Tulloch.
Indeed na!" "Tak care, dame; thou art admitting it wad be a mercifu' deed.

I heard Peter Fae say that John Sabay stabbed him, an' Ragon Torr and Hacon Flett saw John, as I understan' the matter." "Mother," said John, "do thou talk to nane but God.