would have gone to her first, to warn her
against imparting what information concerning Gibbie she might
possess to any other than himself, but he had not an idea where she
might even be heard of. He had cleansed his own parish, as he
thought, by pulling up the tare, contrary to commandment, and
throwing it into his neighbours, where it had taken root, and grown
a worse tare than before; until at length, she who had been so
careful over the manners and morals of her drunkards, was a drunkard
herself and a wanderer, with the reputation of being a far worse
woman than she really was. For some years now she had made her
living, one poor enough, by hawking small household necessities; and
not unfrequently where she appeared, the housewives bought of her
because her eyes, and her nose, and an undefined sense of evil in
her presence, made them shrink from the danger of offending her.
But the real cause of the bad impression she made was, that she was
sorely troubled with what is, by huge discourtesy, called a bad
conscience--being in reality a conscience doing its duty so well
that it makes the whole house uncomfortable.

On her next return to the Daurfoot, as the part of the city was
called where now she was most at home, she heard the astounding and
welcome news that Gibbie had fallen heir to a large property, and
that the reward of one hundred pounds--a modest sum indeed, but
where was the good of wasting money, thought Mr. Sclater--had been
proclaimed by tuck of drum, to any one giving such information as
should lead to the discovery of Sir Gilbert Galbraith, commonly
known as wee Sir Gibbie. A description of him was added, and the
stray was so kenspeckle, that Mistress Croale saw the necessity of
haste to any hope of advantage. She had nothing to guide her beyond
the fact of Sir George's habit, in his cups, of referring to the
property on Daurside, and the assurance that with the said habit
Gibbie must have been as familiar as herself. With this initiative,
as she must begin somewhere, and could prosecute her business
anywhere, she filled her basket and set out at once for Daurside.
There, after a good deal of wandering hither and thither, and a
search whose fruitlessness she probably owed to too great caution,
she made the desired discovery unexpectedly and marvellously, and
left behind her in the valley the reputation of having been on more
familiar terms with the flood and the causes of it, than was
possible to