Dinna be fleyt; yer father an' Oscar has him safe eneuch, I s' warran'." "Here, Janet!" cried her husband; "gien ye be throu' wi' the bairn, I maun be gauin'." "Hoot, Robert! ye're no surely gauin' to lea' me an' puir Gibbie, 'at maunna stir, i' the hoose oor lanes wi' the murderin' man!" returned Janet.
"'Deed am I, lass! Jist rin and fess the bit tow 'at ye hing yer duds upo' at the washin', an' we'll bin' the feet an' the han's o' 'im." Janet obeyed and went.

Angus, who had been quiet enough for the last ten minutes, meditating and watching, began to swear furiously, but Robert paid no more heed than if he had not heard him--stood calm and grim at his head, with the clubbed sword heaved over his shoulder.

When she came back, by her husband's directions, she passed the rope repeatedly round the keeper's ankles, then several times between them, drawing the bouts tightly together, so that, instead of the two sharing one ring, each ankle had now, as it were, a close-fitting one for itself.

Again and again, as she tied it, did Angus meditate a sudden spring, but the determined look of Robert, and his feeling memory of the blows he had so unsparingly delivered upon him, as well as the weakening effect of that he had received on his head, caused him to hesitate until it was altogether too late.

When they began to bind his hands, however, he turned desperate, and struck at both, cursing and raging.
"Gien ye binna quaiet, ye s' taste the dog's teeth," said Robert .-- Angus reflected that he would have a better chance when he was left alone with Janet, and yielded.--"Troth!" Robert went on, as he continued his task, "I hae no pity left for ye, Angus Mac Pholp; an' gien ye tyauve ony mair, I'll lat at ye.