But at length she was satisfied that
her gaolers were at supper, whereupon she stole out of the house as
quietly as a kitten, and was out of sight of it as quickly. Not a
creature was to be seen. The gutters were all choked and the streets
had become river-beds, already torn with the rush of the ephemeral
torrents. But through it all she dashed fearlessly, bounding on to
Tibbie's cottage.
"Eh, preserve's! sic a nicht, Peter Whaup!" said Peter's wife to Peter
as he sat by the fire with his cutty in his teeth. "It'll be an awfu'
spate."
"Ay will't," rejoined Peter. "There's mair water nor whusky already.
Jist rax doon the bottle, gudewife. It tak's a hantle to quawlifee sic
weet's this. Tak' a drappy yersel', 'oman, to haud it oot."
"Ye hae had plenty, Peter. _I_ dinna want nane. Ye're a true smith,
man: ye hae aye a spark i' yer throat."
"Toots! There never was sic a storm o' water sin' the ark o' the
covenant--"
"Ye mean Noah's ark, Peter, man."
"Weel, weel! onything ye like. It's a' the same, ye ken. I was only
jist remarkin' that we haena sic a fa' o' rain ilka day, an' we sud
jist haud the day in min', pay 't respec' like, keep it wi' a tumler,
ye ken--cummummerate it, as they ca' 't.
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