as that Dwining."

"Have a care he does not hear you say so," said the smith, "I tell
thee, bonnet maker, that there is more danger in yonder slight
wasted anatomy than in twenty stout fellows like yourself."

"Pshaw! Bully Smith, you are but jesting with me," said Oliver,
softening his voice, however, and looking towards the pottingar,
as if to discover in what limb or lineament of his wasted face and
form lay any appearance of the menaced danger; and his examination
reassuring him, he answered boldly: "Blades and bucklers, man, I
would stand the feud of a dozen such as Dwining. What could he do
to any man with blood in his veins?"

"He could give him a dose of physic," answered the smith drily.

They had no time for further colloquy, for Bailie Craigdallie
called to them to take the road to Kinfauns, and himself showed
the example. As they advanced at a leisurely pace, the discourse
turned on the reception which they were to expect from their provost,
and the interest which he was likely to take in the aggression which
they complained of. The glover seemed particularly desponding, and
talked more than once in a manner which implied a wish that they
would yet consent to let the matter rest. He did not speak out very
plainly, however, fearful, perhaps, of the malignant interpretation
which might be derived from any appearance of his flinching from
the assertion of his daughter's reputation. Dwining seemed to agree
with him in opinion, but spoke more cautiously than in the morning.

"After all," said the bailie, "when I think of all the propines