I'm gauin to toom the man's gun.
Gien he daur to muv, jist gie him the haill bilin', bree an a', i' the ill face o' 'm; gien ye lat him up he'll kill's a'; only tak care an' haud aff o' the dog, puir fallow!--I wad lay the stock o' yer murderin' gun i' the fire gien 'twarna 'at I reckon it's the laird's an' no yours.

Ye're no fit to be trustit wi' a gun.

Ye're waur nor a weyver." So saying he carried the weapon to the door, and, in terror lest he might, through wrath or the pressure of dire necessity, use it against his foe, emptied its second barrel into the earth, and leaned it up against the wall outside.
Janet obeyed her husband so far as to stand over Angus with the potato-pot: how far she would have carried her obedience had he attempted to rise may remain a question.

Doubtless a brave man doing his duty would have scorned to yield himself thus; but right and wrong had met face to face, and the wrong had a righteous traitor in his citadel.
When Robert returned and relieved her guard, Janet went back to Gibbie, whom she had drawn towards the fire.

He lay almost insensible, but in vain Janet attempted to get a teaspoonful of whisky between his lips.