He had apparently calculated upon his post affording him more security, for he no sooner felt the wound, though a very slight one, than he requested a parley, and demanded to know what they meant by attacking in this fashion a peaceable and honest man, and shedding his blood in that lawless manner?
"We want your prisoner," said Earnscliff, "to be delivered up to us in safety." "And what concern have you with her ?" replied the marauder.
"That," retorted Earnscliff, "you, who are detaining her by force, have no right to enquire." "Aweel, I think I can gie a guess," said the robber.

"Weel, sirs, I am laith to enter into deadly feud with you by spilling ony of your bluid, though Earnscliff hasna stopped to shed mine--and he can hit a mark to a groat's breadth--so, to prevent mair skaith, I am willing to deliver up the prisoner, since nae less will please you." "And Hobbie's gear ?" cried Simon of Hackburn.

"D'ye think you're to be free to plunder the faulds and byres of a gentle Elliot, as if they were an auld wife's hens'-cavey ?" "As I live by bread," replied Willie of Westburnflat "As I live by bread, I have not a single cloot o' them! They're a' ower the march lang syne; there's no a horn o' them about the tower.

But I'll see what o' them can be gotten back, and I'll take this day twa days to meet Hobbie at the Castleton wi' twa friends on ilka side, and see to make an agreement about a' the wrang he can wyte me wi'." "Ay, ay," said Elliot, "that will do weel eneugh."-- And then aside to his kinsman, "Murrain on the gear! Lordsake, man! say nought about them.
Let us but get puir Grace out o' that auld hellicat's clutches." "Will ye gie me your word, Earnscliff," said the marauder, who still lingered at the shot-hole, "your faith and troth, with hand and glove, that I am free to come and free to gae, with five minutes to open the grate, and five minutes to steek it and to draw the bolts?
less winna do, for they want creishing sairly.

Will ye do this ?" "You shall have full time," said Earnscliff; "I plight my faith and troth, my hand and my glove." "Wait there a moment, then," said Westburnflat; "or hear ye, I wad rather ye wad fa' back a pistol-shot from the door.