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"
I
saw
the
bodies
of
men
and
women
in
Woodilee
who
have
sold
their
souls
to
damnation
.
Isobel
Veitch
,
as
your
master
and
your
minister
,
I
charge
you
,
as
you
will
answer
before
the
Judgment
Seat
,
what
know
you
of
the
accursed
thing
in
this
parish
?
"
"
Me
!
"
she
cried
.
"
Me
!
I
ken
nocht
.
Me
and
my
man
aye
keepit
clear
o
’
the
Wud
.
"
"
Which
is
to
say
that
there
were
others
in
Woodilee
who
did
not
.
Answer
me
,
woman
,
as
you
hope
for
salvation
.
The
sin
of
witchcraft
is
rampant
here
,
and
I
will
not
rest
till
I
have
rooted
it
out
.
Who
are
those
in
Woodilee
who
keep
tryst
with
the
Devil
?
"
"
How
suld
I
ken
?
Oh
,
sir
,
I
pray
ye
to
speir
nae
mair
questions
.
Woodilee
has
aye
been
kenned
for
a
queer
bit
,
lappit
in
the
muckle
Wud
,
but
the
guilty
aye
come
by
an
ill
end
.
There
’
s
been
mair
witches
howkit
out
o
’
Woodilee
and
brunt
than
in
ony
ither
parochine
on
the
Water
o
’
Aller
.
Trust
to
your
graund
Gospel
preachin
’
,
Mr
.
David
,
to
wyse
folk
a
better
gait
,
for
if
ye
start
speirin
’
about
the
Wud
ye
’
ll
stir
up
a
byke
that
will
sting
ye
sair
.
As
my
faither
used
to
say
,
him
that
spits
against
the
wind
spits
in
his
ain
face
.
Trust
to
conviction
o
’
sin
bringin
’
evildoers
to
repentance
,
as
honest
Mr
.
Macmichael
did
afore
ye
.
"
"
Did
Mr
.
Macmichael
know
of
this
wickedness
?
"
"
I
canna
tell
.
Nae
doot
he
had
a
glimmerin
’
.
But
he
was
a
quiet
body
wha
keepit
to
the
roads
and
his
ain
fireside
,
and
wasna
like
yoursel
’
,
aye
ryngin
’
the
country
like
a
moss
-
trooper
.
.
.
.
Be
content
,
sir
,
to
let
sleepin
’
tykes
lie
till
ye
can
catch
them
rauvagin
’
.
Ye
’
ve
a
congregation
o
’
douce
eident
folk
,
and
I
’
se
warrant
ye
’
ll
lead
them
intil
the
straucht
and
narrow
way
.
Maybe
the
warst
’
s
no
as
ill
as
ye
think
.
Maybe
it
’
s
just
a
sma
’
backslidin
’
in
them
that
’
s
pilgrims
to
Sion
.
They
’
re
weel
kenned
to
be
sound
in
doctrine
,
and
there
was
mair
signed
the
Covenant
-
-
"
"
Peace
,
"
he
cried
.
"
This
is
rank
blasphemy
,
and
a
horrid
hypocrisy
.
What
care
I
for
lip
service
when
there
are
professors
who
are
living
a
lie
?
Who
is
there
I
can
trust
?
The
man
who
is
loudest
in
his
profession
may
be
exulting
in
secret
and
dreadful
evil
.
He
whom
I
think
a
saint
may
be
the
chief
of
sinners
.
Are
there
no
true
servants
of
Christ
in
Woodilee
?
"
"
Plenty
,
"
said
Isobel
.
"
But
who
are
they
?
I
had
thought
Richie
Smail
at
the
Greenshiel
a
saint
,
but
am
I
wrong
?
"
