He's nane o' the best
o' angels, an focks winna hae muckle credit by entertaining him."
Certainly, in the assured state I was in, I had as little reason to be
alarmed at mention being made of the Devil as any person on
earth: of late, however, I felt that the reverse was the case, and
that any allusion to my great enemy moved me exceedingly. The
weaver's speech had such an effect on me that both he and his
wife were alarmed at my looks. The latter thought I was angry,
and chided her husband gently for his rudeness; but the weaver
himself rather seemed to be confirmed in his opinion that I was
the Devil, for he looked round like a startled roe-buck, and
immediately betook him to the family Bible.
I know not whether it was on purpose to prove my identity or not,
but I think he was going to desire me either to read a certain
portion of Scripture that he had sought out, or to make family
worship, had not the conversation at that instant taken another
turn; for the weaver, not knowing how to address me, abruptly
asked my name, as he was about to put the Bible into my hands.
Never having considered myself in the light of a male-factor, but
rather as a champion in the cause of truth, and finding myself
perfectly safe under my disguise, I had never once thought of the
utility of changing my name, and, when the man asked me, I
hesitated; but, being compelled to say something, I said my name
was Cowan.
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