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diff --git a/41796-8.txt b/41796-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 078a451..0000000 --- a/41796-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6306 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Brownie of Bodsbeck, and Other Tales, -Vol. II (of 2), by James Hogg - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: The Brownie of Bodsbeck, and Other Tales, Vol. II (of 2) - - -Author: James Hogg - - - -Release Date: January 6, 2013 [eBook #41796] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, AND OTHER -TALES, VOL. II (OF 2)*** - - -E-text prepared by Henry Flower and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by -Internet Archive/American Libraries (http://archive.org/details/americana) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/American Libraries. See - http://archive.org/details/brownieofbodsbec02hogg - - -Transcriber's note: - - The Brownie of Bodsbeck has no Chapter IV. and two - Chapters III. - - - - - -THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK; - -And other Tales. - -Edinburgh: -Printed by James Ballantyne & Co. - - -THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK; - -And other Tales. - -by - -JAMES HOGG, - -Author of "The Queen's Wake," &c. &c. - - "What, has this thing appeared again to-night?" - -In Two Volumes. - -VOL. II. - - - - - - - -Edinburgh; -Printed for William Blackwood, Prince's-Street: -and -John Murray, Albemarle-Street, London. -1818. - - - - -CONTENTS TO VOLUME SECOND. - - - PAGE. - - Continuation of the Brownie of Bodsbeck 1 - - The Wool-Gatherer 87 - - The Hunt of Eildon 229 - - - - -THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -Next morning Davie Tait was early astir, and not having any thing better -to do, he took his plaid and staff and set out towards Whithope-head, to -see what was become of his five scores of ewes, the poor remains of a -good stock. Davie went slowly up the brae towards Riskinhope-swire, for -the events of last night were fresh in his mind, and he was conning a -new prayer to suit some other great emergency; for Davie began to think -that by fervent prayer very great things might be accomplished--that -perhaps the floods might be restrained from coming down, and the storms -of the air from descending; and that even the Piper Hill, or the Hermon -Law, might be removed out of its place. This last, however, was rather a -doubtful point to be attained, even by prayer through the best grounded -faith, for, saving the places where they already stood, there was no -room for them elsewhere in the country. He had, however, his eye fixed -on a little green gair before him, where he was determined to try his -influence with heaven once more; for his heart was lifted up, as he -afterwards confessed, and he was hasting to that little gair to kneel -down and ask a miracle, nothing doubting. - -Let any one guess, if he can, what Davie Tait was going to ask. It was -not that the rains and storms of heaven might be restrained, nor that -the mountains might be removed out of their places; but Davie was going -to pray, that "when he went over at the Hewn-gate-end, as soon as he -came in sight of Whithope, he might see all his master's ewes again; -all his old friends, every one of which he knew by head-mark, going -spread and bleating on their old walk from the Earl Hill all the way to -the Braid-heads." So intent was Davie on this grand project, that he -walked himself out of breath against the hill, in order to get quickly -at the little gair to put his scheme in execution; but, as he sagely -observed, it had been graciously fore-ordained that he should not commit -this great folly and iniquity. He paused to take his breath; and in -pausing he turned about, as every man does who stops short in climbing a -hill. The scene that met Davie's eye cut his breath shorter than the -steep--his looks were rivetted on the haugh at Chapelhope--he could -scarcely believe his own eyes, though he rubbed them again and again, -and tried their effects on all things around.--"Good Lord!" said Davie, -"what a world do we live in! Gin a hale synat had sworn, I coudna hae -believed this! My sooth but the Brownie o' Bodsbeck has had a busy -night!" - -Walter of Chapelhope had ten acres of as good corn as ever grew in a -moor-land district. Davie knew that when he went to his bed the evening -before, that corn was all growing in the field, dead ripe, and ready for -the sickle; and he had been lamenting that very night that such a crop -should be lost for want of reapers, in a season when there was so much -need for it. But now Davie saw that one half of that crop at least was -shorn during the night, all standing in tight shocks, rowed and hooded, -with their ends turned to the south-west.--Well might Davie exclaim, "My -sooth, but the Brownie of Bodsbeck has had a busy night!" - -Davie thought no more of his five scores of ewes, nor of his prayer, nor -the miracle that was to take place in consequence of that, but turned -and ran back to Riskinhope as fast as his feet would carry him, to -arouse the rest of the people, and apprise them of this wonderful event -that had occurred beneath their noses, as he called it. He did so, and -all of them rose with wonder and astonishment, and agreed to go across -the lake and look at the Brownie's workmanship. Away they went in a body -to the edge of the stubble, but durst not set foot thereon for fear of -being affected by enchantment in some way or another; but they saw that -the corn had been shorn exactly like other corn, except that it was -rather more neat and clean than ordinary. The sheaves were bound in the -same way as other bandsters bind them; and in the shocking, the -corn-knots were all set outermost. "Weel, is not he a most unaccountable -fellow that Brownie of Bodsbeck?" said Davie Tait. - -While they were thus standing in a row at the side of the shorn field, -wondering at the prowess and agility of Brownie, and trying to make some -random calculations of the thousands of cuts that he had made with his -hook that night, Katharine went by at a little distance, driving her -father's cows afield and at the same time directing her father's dog far -up the hill to turn the ewes from the Quave Brae. She was dressed in her -usual neat morning habit, with a white short-gown, green petticoat, and -her dark locks bound up with a scarlet snood; she was scolding and -cajoling the dog in a blithsome and good-humoured way, and scarcely -bestowing a look on the workmanship of her redoubted Brownie, or seeming -to regard it. - -"Ay, ye may speel the brae, Keatie Laidlaw," said Davie Tait, -apostrophising her, but shaking his head all the while, and speaking in -a low voice, that his fellow-servants only might hear--"Ay, ye may speel -the brae, Keatie Laidlaw, an' drive your ewes an' your kye where ye -like; but wae's me for ye! Ye hae a weel-faurd face o' your ain, an' a -mak that's liker to an angel than a thing o' flesh an' blude; but och! -what a foul heart ye boud to hae within!--And how are ye to stand the -aftercome? There will be a black reckoning with you some day. I wadna -that my fit war i' your shoe the night for a' the ewes on the Lang -Bank." - -Old Nanny went over, as usual, and assisted her to milk the cows, and -make the butter and cheese, but spoke no word that day to her young -mistress, good or bad. She regarded her with a kind of awe, and often -took a long stolen look of her, as one does of a dog that he is afraid -may be going mad. - -As the people of Riskinhope went home, Dan chanced to say jocularly, -"He's a clever fellow the Brownie--I wish he would come and shear our -croft too." - -"Foul fa' the tongue that said it," quoth Davie, "an' the heart that -thought the ill! Ye thinkna how easily he's forespoken. It was but last -night I said he hadna wrought to the gudeman for half his meat, an' ye -see what he has done already. I spake o' him again, and he came in -bodily. Ye should take care what ye say here, for ye little ken wha's -hearing. Ye're i' the very same predicament, billy Dan, as the tod was -in the orchard,--'Afore I war at this speed,' quo' he, 'I wad rather hae -my tail cuttit off,'--he hadna the word weel said before he stepped into -a trap, which struck, and snapt off his tail--'It's a queer place this,' -quo' he; 'ane canna speak a word but it is taen in nettle-earnest.' I' -the same way is Brownie likely to guide you; an' therefore, to prevent -him taking you at your word, we'll e'en gang an' begin the shearing -oursels." - -Davie went in to seek out the hooks; he knew there were half-a-dozen -lying above the bed in the room where the spirit had been the night -before. They were gone! not a sickle was there!--Davie returned, -scratching his head, biting his lip, and looking steadily down to the -ground. "It hasna been Kirky's ghost after a'," said he; "it has been -Brownie, or some o' his gang, borrowing our hooks." - -Davie lost all hope of working any great change in the country by dint -of prayer. His faith, which never was great, gave way; but yet he -always said, that when he was hasting up to the rash-bush in the little -green gair that morning, to pray for the return of his master's ewes, it -was at least equal to a grain of mustard-seed. - -About eight days after that, when the moon was in the wane, the rest of -Walter's corn was all cut down in one night, and a part of the first -safely stowed in the barnyard. About the same time, too, the shepherds -began to smear their flocks at a small sheep-house and fold, built for -the purpose up nigh to the forkings of the Chapelhope-burn. It is a -custom with them to mix as much tar with grease before they begin as -they deem sufficient to smear all the sheep on the farm, or at least one -hirsell of them. This the herds of Chapelhope did; but, on the very -second morning after they began, they perceived that a good deal of -their tar was wanting; and judging that it had been stolen, they raised -a terrible affray about it with their neighbours of Riskinhope and -Corse-cleuch. Finding no marks of it, old John Hay said, "We must just -give it up, callants, for lost; there is nae doubt but some of the -fishers about Dryhope has stown it for fish-lights. There are a set of -the terriblest poachers live there that's in all the Forest." - -In the afternoon John went out to the Ox-cleugh-head, to bring in a -houseful of white sheep, and to his utter astonishment saw that upwards -of an hundred ewes had been smeared during the night, by the officious -and unwearied Brownie of Bodsbeck. "The plague be in his fingers," quoth -old John to himself, "gin he haena smeared crocks an' fat sheep, an' a' -that has come in his way. This will never do." - -Though the very hairs of John's head stood, on coming near to the sheep -that had been smeared by Brownie, yet seeing that his sensible dog -Keilder was nothing afraid of them, but managed them in the same way as -he did other sheep, John grew by degrees less suspicious of them. He -confessed, however, as he was shedding them from the white ones, that -there was a ewe of Brownie's smearing came running by very near him, and -he could not help giving a great jump out of her way. - -All shepherds are accused of indolence, and not, perhaps, without some -reason. Though John dreaded as death all connection with Brownie, yet he -rejoiced at the progress they were likely to make in the smearing, for -it is a dirty and laborious business, and he was glad by any means to -get a share of it off his hands, especially as the season was so far -advanced. So John took in to the fold twice as many sheep as they needed -for their own smearing, put the crocks and the fat sheep out from among -them, and left them in the house to their fate, taking good care to be -out of sight of the place before dark. Next morning a certain quantity -of tar was again gone, and the sheep were all neatly smeared and keeled, -and set to the hill. This practice the shepherds continued throughout -smearing-time, and whether they housed many or few at night, they were -still all smeared and set to the hill again next morning. The smearing -of Chapelhope was finished in less than one-third of its wonted time. -Never was the labour of a farm accomplished with such expedition and -exactness, although there were none to work, to superintend, or direct -it, but one simple maiden. It became the wonder and theme of the whole -country, and has continued to be a standing winter evening tale to this -day. Where is the cottager, dwelling between the Lowthers and Cheviot, -who has not heard tell of the feats of the Brownie of Bodsbeck? - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Walter was hardly used in prison for some time, but at last Drummelzier -found means of rendering his situation more tolerable. Several of his -associates that were conducted with him from Dumfries died in jail; he -said they seemed to have been forgotten both by the council and their -friends, but they kept up so good a heart, and died with such apparent -satisfaction, that he could scarcely be sorry for their release by -death, though he acknowledged, that a happiness beyond the grave was -always the last kind of happiness that he wished to his friends. His own -trial was a fire-side theme for him as long as he lived, but he -confounded names and law terms, and all so much through other, that, -were it given wholly in his own words, it would be unintelligible. It -came on the 12th of November, and Sir George Lockhart and Mr Alexander -Hay were his counsel. His indictment bore, that he had sheltered on his -farm a set of the most notorious and irreclaimable rebels in the whole -realm; that sundry of his majesty's right honest liege subjects had been -cruelly murdered there, very near to the prisoner's house, and a worthy -curate in the immediate vicinity. It stated the immense quantity of -victuals found in his house, and the numbers of fugitive whigs that were -seen skulking in the boundaries of his farm; and also how some false -delinquents were taken and executed there. - -Clavers was present, as he had a right to be when he desired it, and -gave strong and decided evidence against him. The time had been, and not -long agone, when, if the latter had manifested such sentiments against -any one, it had been sufficient for his death-warrant; but the killing -time was now nearly over, and those in power were only instituting -trials in order to impose heavy fines and penalties, that they might -glean as much of the latter vintage of that rich harvest as possible, -before the sickle was finally reft from their grasp. Several witnesses -were examined to prove the above accusations, and among the rest Daniel -Roy Macpherson, whose deposition was fair, manly, and candid. As soon as -his examination was over, he came and placed himself near to Walter, who -rejoiced to see him, and deemed that he saw in him the face of a friend. - -Witnesses were next called to prove his striking Captain Bruce with his -fist, and also tripping the heels from Ingles, and tossing him over a -steep, while in the discharge of his duty, whereby he was rendered -unable to proceed in the king's business. Walter, being himself examined -on these points, confessed both, but tried to exculpate himself as well -as he could. - -"As to Bruce, my masters," said he, "I didna ken that he was a captain, -or what he was; he pu'd up his bit shabble of a sword an' dang aff my -bonnet, when I was a free man i' my ain ben-end. I likit nae sic -freedoms, as I had never been used wi' them, sae I took up my neive an' -gae him a yank on the haffat till I gart his bit brass cap rattle -against the wa'. I wonder ye dinna ceete me too for nippin' Jock -Graham's neck there, as he ca'd himsel, that day, an' his freend Tam -Liviston--There's nae word o' that the day!--Nah! but I could tell an' I -likit what I hae been put to a' this plague for." - -Here the advocate stopped him, by observing that he was wandering from -the point in question, and his own counsel were always trembling for him -when he began to speak for himself. Being asked, what defence he had to -offer for kicking and maltreating a king's officer in the discharge of -his duty? - -"If it was that drunken dirt Ingles that ye mean," said Walter, "I dinna -ken what ye ca' a man's duty here, but it surely coudna be a duty, when -my hands war tied ahint my back, to kick me i' the wame; an' that's what -he was doing wi' a' his pith, whan I gart him flee heels-ower-head like -a batch o' skins." - -Sir George MacKenzie and Dalrymple of Stair both laughed outright at -this answer, and it was some time before the business could proceed. Sir -George Lockhart, however, compelled them to relinquish these parts of -the indictment, on account of the treatment offered to the prisoner, and -the trial proceeded on the charges previously mentioned, which were -found relevant. Walter was utterly confounded at the defence made for -him by Sir George Lockhart. He was wont to say, "Aih but he's a terrible -clever body yon Geordie Lockie! od he kend mair about me, and mair that -was in my favour, than I did mysel." - -The conclusion of this trial must be given in Walter's own phrase. "I -pretendit to be very crouse, an' no ae bit fear'd--aha! I was unco -fear'd for a' that--I coudna swally my spittle for the hale day, an' I -fand a kind o' foost, foost, foostin about my briskit that I coudna win -aneath ava. But when the chield MacKenzie began to clink thegither the -evidence against me, gude faith I thought it was a' ower wi' me then; I -saw nae outgate, an' lost a' hope; mair than aince I tried to think o' -auld Maron Linton an' the bairns, but I could think about naething, for -I thought the house was heaving up i' the tae side, and gaun to whommel -a' the judges an' jurymen on the tap o' me. He revertit aye to the -evidence of Clerk the curate, wha had said that I had a private -correspondence wi' the whigs, an' then he brought a' the ither proof to -bear upon that, till he made my guilt perfectly plain; an' faith I -coudna say that the chiel guessed far wrang. Then my Lord Moray, wha was -head judge that day, was just gaun to address the jurymen, an' direct -them to hang me, when up gat Geordie Lockie again for the hindmost time; -(he had as mony links an' wimples in his tail as an eel that body,) an' -he argyed some point o' law that gart them a' glowr; at last he said, -that it was hard, on a point of life an' death, to take the report of a -man that wasna present to make oath to the information he had gi'en, -which might be a slander to gain some selfish end; and he prayed, for -the satisfaction of the jury, that his client might be examined on that -point, (he ca'd me aye _a client_, a name that I abhorred, for I didna -ken the meaning o't, but I trowed it meant nae good,) for, says he, he -has answered very freely, and much to the point, a' that ye hae speered -at him. I was just considering what I should say, but I could get nought -to say ava, when I was startit wi' a loud Hem! just amaist at my elbow. -I naturally liftit up my een, very stupit like, I dare say, to see what -it was; and wha was it but the queer Highland chap Roy Macpherson, -makin' sic faces to me as ye never saw. I thought he was wanting to mak -me recollect something, but what it was I coudna tell. I was -dumfoundered sae, that when the judge put the question to me about Clerk -I never answered a word, for I was forefoughten wi' another thought. At -length I mindit the daft advice that honest Macpherson gae me at parting -with me in Dumfries, which was sic a ridiculous advice I had never -thought o't mair. But now, thinks I to mysel, things canna be muckle -waur wi' me; the scrow's come fairly to the neb o' the miresnipe now; -an' never had I better reason to be angry than at the base curate whom I -had fed an' clad sae aften. Sae I musters a' my wrath up into my face, -and when the judge, or the advocate, put the question again, I never -heedit what it was, but set up my birses an' spak to them as they had -been my herd callants. What the deil are ye a' after? quoth I. G----d -d----n the hale pack o' ye, do ye think that auld Wat Laidlaw's a whig, or -wad do aught against his king, or the laws o' his country? They ken little -about him that say sae! I aince fought twa o' the best o' them armed wi' -swords, an' wi' nought but my staff I laid them baith flat at my feet; -an' had I ony twa o' ye on the Chapelhope-flow thegither, if ye dared to -say that I was a whig, or a traitor to my king, I wad let ye find -strength o' arm for aince. Here the wily chap Geordie Lockie stappit me -in great agitation, and beggit me to keep my temper, and answer his -lordship to the point, what defence I had to make against the -information given by Clerk the curate? He be d----d! said I: he kens the -contrair o' that ower weel; but he kend he wad be master an' mair when -he gat me away frae about the town. He wantit to wheedle my wife out o' -ilk thing she had, an' to kiss my daughter too, if he could. Vile -brock! gin I war hame at him I'll dad his head to the wa'; ay, an' ony -twa o' ye forby, quo' I, raising my voice, an' shaking that neive at -them,--ony twa o' ye that dare set up your faces an' say that I'm a whig -or a rebel.--A wheen d----d rascals, that dinna ken what ye wad be at! - -"The hale court was thunnerstruck, an' glowred at ane anither like -wullcats. I gae a sklent wi' my ee to Daniel Roy Macpherson, an' he was -leaned ower the back o' the seat, and fa'n into a kink o' laughing. The -hale crowd ahint us got up wi' a great hurra! an' clappit their hands, -an' I thought the fock war a' gaen mad thegither. As soon as there was a -wee quiet, my lord the Earl o' Moray he speaks across to Clavers, an' he -says: 'This winna do, my lord; that carl's nae whig, nor naething akin -to them. Gin that be nae a sound worthy man, I never saw ane, nor heard -ane speak.' An' wi' that the croud shoutit an' clappit their hands -again. I sat hinging my head then, an' looking very blate, but I was -unco massy for a' that. They then spak amang themsels for five or sax -minents, and they cried on my master Drumelzier, an' he gaed up an' -crackit wi' them too; an' at last the judge tauld me, that the -prosecution against me was drappit for the present, an' that gin I could -raise security for twa thousand merks, to appear again if cited before -the first of June, 1686, I was at liberty to go about my business. I -thankit his lordship; but thinks I to mysel, ye're a wheen queer chaps! -Ye shoot fock for praying an' reading the Bible, an' whan ane curses an' -damns ye, ye ca' him a true honest man! I wish ye be nae the deil's -bairns, the halewort o' ye! Drumelzier an' Lockie cam security for me at -aince, an' away I sets for hame, as weel satisfied as ever I was a' my -life, that I mind o'. - -"Weel, when I came out to the closs at the back o' the prison, a' the -fock croudit about me; an' _he_ shook hands wi' me; an' _he_ shook -hands wi' me; an' the young chaps they hurra'd an' waved their caps, an' -cried out, Ettrick Forest for ever!--Auld Braid-Bonnet for ever,--hurra! -An' I cam up the Lawn-Market, an' down the Bow, wi' sic an army at my -tail, as I had been gaun away to fight Boddell-Brigg owre again. - -"I now begoud to think it wad be as weel to gie the lads the slip, for -my army was gathering like a snaw-ba', an' I little wist how sic a -hobbleshue might end; sae I jinkit into Geordie Allan's, at the -West-Port, where I had often been afore, when selling my eild ewes and -chasers; an' I whispered to them to keep out my sodgers, for there were -too many of them for the house to haud; but they not perfectly -understanding my jest, I was not well entered ere I heard a loud -altercation at the head o' the stair, an' the very first aith that I -heard I knew it to be Macpherson." - -"Py Cot's preath, put she shall pe coing in; were not she her friend and -couhnsel?" - -"You his counsel? A serjeant of dragoons his counsel? That winna do. He -charged that nae sodgers should get in. Get aff wi' your Hieland -impudence--brazen-faced thief!" - -"Fat? Tief? Cot t--n y' mack-en dhu na bhaish! -M'Leadle!--Trocho!--Hollo! Cresorst!" - -"I ran to the door to take the enraged veteran in my arms, and welcome -him as my best friend and adviser, but they had bolted the inner door in -his face, through which he had run his sword amaist to the hilt, an' he -was tugging an' pu'ing at it to get it out again, swearing a' the time -like a true dragoon. I led him into my room, an' steekit the door o't, -but there he stood wi' his feet asperr, and his drawn sword at arm's -length ahint his back, in act to make a lounge at the door, till he had -exhausted a' his aiths, baith in Gaelic an' English, at the fock o' the -house, and then he sheathed his sword, and there was nae mair about it. - -"I speered what I could do to oblige him?" - -"Hu, not creat moach at hall, man; only pe kiffing me your hand. Py -Cot's poy, put if you tit not stonish tem! Vas not I peen telling you -tat him's hearty curse pe te cood?" - -"My certy," quo' I, "but ye did do that, or I wad never hae thought o't; -ye're an auld-farrant honest chiel! I am sorry that I canna just now -make ye sic a present as ye deserve; but ye maun come out an' see me." - -"Present! Poo, poo, poo! Teol more, take te present tat pe coing petween -friends, and she may have sharper works tan pe coing visits; put not te -more, she pe haifing small favour to seek." - -"Od, man," says I, "ye hae been the mean o' preserving my life, an' ye -sanna ax a thing that I'll refuse, e'en to my ain doughter. An' by the -by, serjeant, gin ye want a good wife, an' a bonny ane, I'll gie ye sic -a tocher wi' my Keatie, as never was gi'en wi' a farmer's lassie i' the -Forest." - -"Hu! Cot pe plessing you! She haif cot wife, and fery hexcellent -boddach, with two childs after him." - -"What is it then, serjeant? Gin the thing be in my power, ye hae -naething ado but to say the word." - -"Do you know tat her nainsell pe coosin to yourself?" - -"Od, man," quo' I, "that's hardly possible, or else the taen o' us has -come o' the wrang side o' the blanket." - -"Now do you just pe holding your paice for a fery less time, for you -must halways pe spaik spaiking, without knowing fat to say, unless I -were putting it into your haid. I haif tould ould Simon Glas Macrhimmon, -who knows all the pedigrees from the creation of the world, and he says -that te Lheadles are all Macphersons; for, in the days of Rory More of -Ballindalloch and Invereshie, tere was te Gordons, who would pe making -grheat prhogress on te Sassenach, and tere went down wit Strabogie of -te clan Ahnderson, and te clan Grhaham, and one Letulloch Macpherson of -Strathneshalloch, vit as bould a clan after her as any and mhore; and -they would pe toing creat might upon the Sassenach, and they would pe -killing her in tousands, and ten she cot crheat lhands out of King -Robert on te Bhorder, and Letulloch he had a whoule country to himself. -But te people could not pe putting her nhame into worts, and instead of -Letulloch tey called her _Leadlea_ and te Sassenach she called her -_Little_, so that all tese are of Macpherson, and you may pe te chief, -and te forward son of te crheat Strathneshalloch himself. Now tat I -would pe te tog, and te shame, and te tisgrhace, not to help my owhn -poor clansman and prhother out of te evil, tat would pe worse eneuch; -and te ting tat I would pe asking of you is tis, tat you will always -look upon a Macpherson as a prhother until te end of te world, and pe -standing py her as long as tere is peing one trop of plood in your whole -poty." - -"Gude faith, serjeant," says I, "I never was sae happy as to find, that -the man to whom I hae been sae muckle obliged is sic a noble -disinterested chiel; an' there's my hand, I'll never gie up the cause of -a Macpherson, if he's in the right." - -"Hu! Cot t--n your _right_! a clansman speak of the right! Any man will -stand py me when I am in te right, put wit a phrother I must always pe -in te right. No right or wrong tere, py Cot!--Poo, poo!" - -"Od, man," quo' I, "that's a stretch o' billyhood that I was never up to -afore but sin' ye say't, may I never see the Hermon Law again gif I -winna stand by it. Come, then, we'll hae a stoup o' brandy, or a bottle -o' wine thegither, for a parting cup." - -"Hu!--no, no! None of your prandies or your wines for me!--I must pe on -duty in less than an hour, and I would not pe tasting any of your tamn -prandies or wines. No, no!--Cot pless you!--And should she never pe -seeing your face again, you will pe----" - -"He could say nae mair, for the muckle round tears were coming hopping -down owre his weather-beaten cheek, but he gae my hand a hard squeeze -an' a shake, an' brak out at the door; an' that was my last sight of -honest Daniel Roy Macpherson, a man that I hae met few like! I was tauld -lang after, that he fell fighting like a lion against the Campbells, at -the battle o' Killiekranky, and that, to the last day o' his life, he -spake o' his kinsman, ould MacLeadle." - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -It was on the inauspicious night of All-Hallow-eve, that Walter arrived -again at his own house, after so long an absence; but some of the -farmers of Manor-Water, his acquaintances, were so overjoyed at seeing -him again, that they persuaded him to go in, taste of their cheer, and -relate his adventures and his trial to them; and so long was he detained -in this way, that it was dark before he left Dollar-Burn; yet so anxious -was he to get home to his family, and all unconscious that it was -Hallow-E'en, the great jubilee of the fairies and all the spirits of -these mountain regions, he set out on his journey homeward, across the -dreary moors of Meggat-dale. Walter found his way full well, for he knew -every brae, height, and declivity by the way, and many delightful -little dreams was he cherishing in his heart, how he would surprise -Maron an' the bairns by his arrival, and how extravagantly delighted his -excellent and generous dog Reaver would be; for he often said, "he had -mair sense about him than what was a beast's good right;" but, above -all, his mind dwelt most on his dear lassie Kate, as he called her. He -had been informed by Drummelzier of all that she had done for him, who -gave her a character so high before some friends of his who were -present, that Walter never was so proud in his life, and he longed, with -all a father's fondness, to clasp "his bit dear kind-heartit lassie" -again in his arms. - -With all these delightful and exhilarating thoughts glowing in his -breast, how could that wild and darksome road, or indeed any road, be -tedious to our honest goodman? For, as to the evil spirits with whom his -beloved Keatie was in conjunction, the idea had died away like a thing -of the imagination, and he barely spent a thought upon it. He crossed -the Meggat about eleven o'clock in the night, just as the waning moon -began to peep over the hills to the south-east of the lake,--but such -scenes, and such adventures, are not worth a farthing, unless described -and related in the language of the country to which they are peculiar. - -"I fand I was come again into the country o' the fairies an' the -spirits," said Walter; "an' there was nae denying o't; for when I saw -the bit crookit moon come stealing o'er the kipps o' Bowerhope-Law, an' -thraw her dead yellow light on the hills o' Meggat, I fand the very -nature an' the heart within me changed. A' the hills on the tae side o' -the loch war as dark as pitch, an' the tither side had that ill-hued -colour on't, as if they had been a' rowed in their windling sheets; an' -then the shadow o' the moon it gaed bobbing an' quivering up the loch -fornent me, like a streek o' cauld fire. In spite o' my teeth I turned -eiry, an' the mair I feucht against it I grew the eiryer, for whenever -the spirits come near ane, that kind o' feeling comes on. - -"Weel, just as I was gaun round the end o' the Wedder-Law, a wee bit -aboon the head o' the Braken Wood, I sees a white thing on the road -afore me. At the first it appeared to be gaun away, but at length I saw -it coming nearer an' nearer me, keeping aye a little aboon the road till -I came amaist close to it, an' then it stood stane-still an' glowred at -me. What in the wide world can it be that is here at sic an untimely -time o' night as this? thinks I to mysel. However, I steps aye on, an' -wasna gaun to mak nor meddle wi't ava, till at last, just as I was gaun -by, it says in a soft low voice,--"Wow, friend, but ye gang late the -night!" - -"Faith, no muckle later than yoursel," quo' I, "gin it be your will." - -"O'er late on sic a night!" quoth the creature again; "o'er late on -Hallow E'en, an' that ye will find." - -"It elyed away o'er the brow, an' I saw nae mair o't. "Lord sauf us! -quo' I to mysel, is this Hallow-E'en? I wish I war safe at hame, or in -amang Christian creatures o' ony kind!--Or had I but my fine dog Reaver -wi' me, to let me ken when the fairies are coming near me--Goodness to -the day! I may be amang the mids o' them ere ever I ken what I'm doing." -A' the stories that ever I heard about fairies in my life came linkin -into my mind ane after anither, and I almaist thought I was already on -my road to the Fairy-land, an' to be paid away to hell, like a -kane-cock, at the end o' seven years. I likit the boding o' the -apparition I had met wi' unco ill, but yet I had some hopes that I was -o'er muckle, an' o'er heavy metal for the fairies. Hout, thinks I, what -need I be sae feared? They'll never take away ane o' my size to be a -fairy--Od, I wad be the daftest-like fairy ever was seen. - -"I had naething for't but to stride on as fast as I could, an' on I -comes till I comes to the bit brae at the side o' the Ox-Cleuch-Lea, -an' there I heard something fistling amang the brakens, an' making a -kind o' wheenge, wheenge, wheenging, that gart a' my heart loup to my -mouth; an' what was this but my poor dog Reaver, coming creeping on his -wame, an' sae fain to meet me again that he hardly kend what he was -doing. I took him up in my arms an' clappit him, an' said a' the kind -things to him that I could, an' O sic a wark an' fidgetting as he made! -But yet I couldna help thinking there was a kind o' doufness and -mellancholly in his looks. What ails ye, Reaver man? quo' I. I wish a' -may be weel about Chapelhope the night; but ye canna tell me that, poor -fallaw, or else ye wad. He sometimes lickit my stocking wi' his tongue, -an' sometimes my hand, but he wadna gang away afore me as he used to do, -cocking his tail sae massy like; an' I feared sair that a' wasna right -about hame, an' can hardly tell ony body how I felt,--fock's ain are aye -their ain! - -"At length I came amaist close to the bit brow o' the Lang Bank that -brought me in sight o' my ain house, but when I lookit ower my shoulder -Reaver was fled. I grew fearder than ever, an' wistna what to think; an' -wi' that I sees a queer-like shapen thing standing straight on the road -afore me. Now, thinks I, this is the Brownie o' Bodsbeck; I wadna face -him for a' the warld; I maun try to gie him the slip. Sae I slides aff -the road, an' down a bit howe into the side o' the loch, thinking I wad -get up within the brae out o' sight o' him--But aha! there was he -standing straight afore me on the shore. I clamb the brae again, and sae -did he. Now, thinks I, his plan is first to pit me out o' my reason, an' -then wear me into the loch and drown me; I'll keep an open side wi' him. -Sae up the hill I scrambles wi' a' my speed, an' doun again, and up -again, five or six times; but still he keepit straight afore me. By this -time I was come by degrees very near him, an' waxed quite desperate, an -desperation made me crouse. 'In the name o' God,' cries I, 'what are ye -that winna let me by to my ain house?" - -"Did you see a woman on your way?" said the creature in a deep solemn -voice. - -"Yes, I did," answered I. - -"Did she tell you any thing?" said the apparition again. - -"No," said I. - -"Then I must," said the creature. "You go no nearer to your own house -to-night." - -"Say you sae?" said I; "but I'll gang to my ain house the night, though -sax like you stood atween me an' it." - -"I charge you," said the thing again, "that you go not nearer to it. For -your own sake, and the sakes of those that are dearest to you, go back -the gate you came, and _go not_ to that house." - -"An' pray wha may you be that's sae peremptory?" said I. - -"A stranger here, but a friend to you, Laidlaw. Here you do not pass -to-night." - -I never could bide to be braved a' my life. "Say you sae, friend?" quo' -I; "then let me tell ye, stand out o' my way; or be ye brownie or -fairy--be ye ghaist, or be ye deil--in the might o' Heaven, I sall gie -ye strength o' arm for aince; an' here's a cudgel that never fell in -vain." - -"So saying, I took my stick by the sma' end wi' baith my hands, an' -heaving it ower my shoulder I came straight on to the apparition, for I -hardly kend what I was doing; an' my faith it had gotten a paik! but it -had mair sense than to risk it; for when it saw that I was dementit, it -e'en steppit quietly aff the road, and said, wi' a deep grane, "Ye're a -wilfu' man, Laidlaw, an' your wilfu'ness may be your undoing. Pass on -your ways, and Heaven protect your senses." - -"I dredd sair I was doing wrang, but there was something in my nature -that wadna be contrair'd; sae by I went, an' lookit full at the thing as -I past. It had nouther face nor hands, nor head nor feet; but there was -it standing like a lang corn sack. L----d tak me, (as Serjeant Macpherson -said,) if I kend whether I was gaun on my feet or the crown o' my head. - -"The first window that I came to was my ain, the ane o' that room where -Maron and I slept. I rappit at it wi' a rap that wont to be weel kend, -but it was barred, an' a' was darkness and vacancy within. I tried every -door and window alang the foreside o' the house, but a' wi' the same -effect. I rappit an' ca'd at them a', an' named every name that was in -the house when I left it, but there was nouther voice, nor light, nor -sound. 'Lord have a care o' me!' said I to mysel, 'what's come o' a' my -fock? Can Clavers hae been here in my absence an' taen them a' away? or -has the Brownie o' Bodsbeck eaten them up, stoop an' roop? For a' that I -hae wearied to see them, here I find my house left unto me desolate. -This is a waesome welcome hame to a father, an' a husband, an' a -master!--O Lord! O Lord! what will come o' puir auld Wat now?' - -"The Auld Room was a place I never thought o' gangin to; but no kenning -what to mak o' mysel, round the west end o' the house I gaes towards the -door o' the Auld Room. I soon saw through the seam atween the shutters -that there was a light in it, an' kenning weel that there was a broken -lozen, I edged back the shutter naturally to see what was gaun on -within--May never a father's e'e again see sic a sight as mine -saw!--There was my dear, my only daughter Katharine, sitting on the bed -wi' a dead corpse on her knee, and her hands round its throat; and there -was the Brownie o' Bodsbeck, the ill-faurd, runkled, withered thing, wi' -its eildron form and grey beard, standin at the bed side hauding the -pale corpse by the hand. It had its tither hand liftit up, and was -mutter, muttering some horrid spell, while a crew o' the same kind o' -grizly beardit phantoms were standin round them. I had nae doubt but -there had been a murder committit, and that a dissection was neist to -take place; and I was sae shock'd that I was just gaun to roar out. I -tried it twice, but I had tint my voice, and could do naething but gape. - -"I now fand there was a kind o' swarf coming o'er me, for it came up, -up, about my heart, an' up, up, o'er my temples, till it darkened my -een; an' I fand that if it met on the crown o' my head I was gane. Sae I -thought it good, as lang as that wee master bit was sound, to make my -escape, an' aff I ran, an' fell, an' fell, an' rase an' ran again. As -Riskinhope was the nearest house, I fled for that, where I wakened Davie -Tait out o' his bed in an unco plight. When he saw that I was a' -bedaubit wi' mire o'er head an' ears, (for I had faun a hunder times,) -it was impossible to tell wha o' us was maist frightit. - -"Lord sauf us, goodman," quo' he, "are ye hangit?" - -"Am I hangit, ye blockhead!" says I; "what do ye mean?" - -"I m-m-mean," says Davie, "w-w-war ye ek-ek-execute?" - -"Dinna be feared for an auld acquaintance, Davie," quo I, "though he -comes to you in this guise." - -"Guise!" said Davie, staring and gasping for breath--"Gui-gui-guise! -Then it se-e-e-eems ye _are_ dead?" - -"Gin I were dead, ye fool," quoth I, "how could I be here? Give me your -hand." - -"Uh-uh-uh-uuuh!" cried Davie, as I wore him up to the nook, and took -haud o' his hand by force. "Uh, goodman, ye are flesh and blude yet! But -O ye're cauld an' ugsome!" - -"Davie," quoth I, "bring me a drink, for I hae seen something o'er-bye -an' I'm hardly just mysel." - -Davie ran and brought me a hale bowie-fu' milk. "Tak a gude waught, -goodman," quo' he, "an' dinna be discouraged. Ye maun lay your account -to see and hear baith, sic things as ye never saw or heard afore, gin ye -be gaun to bide here. Ye needna wonder that I thought ye war dead,--the -dead are as rife here now as the living--they gang amang us, work amang -us, an' speak to us; an' them that we ken to be half-rotten i' their -graves, come an' visit our fire-sides at the howe o' the night. There -hae been sad doings here sin ye gaed away, goodman!" - -"Sad doings I fear, indeed, Davie!" says I. "Can ye tell me what's -become o' a' my family?" - -"Troth can I, goodman. Your family are a' weel. Keatie's at hame her -lievahlane, an' carrying on a' the wark o' the farm as weel as there war -a hunder wi' her. Your twa sons an' auld Nanny bide here; an' the honest -gudewife hersel she's away to Gilmanscleuch. But oh, gudeman, there are -sad things gaun on o'er-bye yonder; an' mony a ane thinks it will hae a -black an' a dreadfu' end. Sit down an' thraw aff your dirty claes, an' -tell us what ye hae seen the night." - -"Na, na, Davie! unless I get some explanation, the thing that I hae seen -the night maun be lockit up in this breast, an' be carried to the grave -wi' it. But, Davie, I'm unco ill; the cauld sweat is brekking on me frae -head to foot. I'm feared I gang away athegither." - -"Wow, gudeman, what can be done?" quo' Davie. "Think ye we sudna tak the -beuk?" - -"I was sae faintish I coudna arguy wi' the fool, an' ere ever I wist he -has my bonnet whuppit aff, and is booling at a sawm; and when that was -done, to the prayin' he fa's, an' sic nonsense I never heard prayed a' -my life. I'll be a rogue gin he wasna speakin' to his Maker as he had -been his neighbour herd; an' then he was baith fleetching an' fighting -wi' him. However, I came something to mysel again, an' Davie he thought -proper to ascribe it a' to his bit ragabash prayer." - -Walter spent a restless and a troubled morning till day-light, and Davie -said, that wearied as he was, he believed he never closed his een, for -he heard him frequently turning in the bed, and moaning to himself; and -he heard him once saying, with deep sighs as if weeping,--"O my poor -Keatie Laidlaw! what is to become o' her! My poor lost, misled lassie! -Wae's my heart for her! I fear she is ruined for this world--an' for the -aftercome, I dare hardly venture to think about it!--O wae's me for my -poor luckless bairn!" - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Next morning Walter and his two sons, and old Nanny, went all over to -Chapelhope together, just as the cows came to the loan; and the farmer -was sundry times remarking by the way that "day-light had mony een!" The -truth was, that the phantoms of superstition had in a measure fled with -the shadows of the night, which they seldom fail to do. They, indeed, -remain in the bosom, hid, as it were, in embryo, ready to be embodied -again at the fall of the long shadow in the moon-light, or the evening -tale round the fading embers; but Walter at this time, perhaps, regarded -the visions of last night as dreams scarcely remembered, and less -believed, and things which in the open day he would have been ashamed -to have acknowledged. - -Katharine had begun a-milking, but when she beheld her father coming -across the meadow, she left her leglen and ran home. Perhaps it was to -put his little parlour in order, for no one of the family had set foot -within that house but herself for three weeks--or perhaps she did not -choose that their meeting should be witnessed by other eyes. In short, -she had something of importance to put to rights--for home she ran with -great haste; and Walter, putting his sons to some work to detain them, -followed her all alone. He stepped into the parlour, but no one being -there, he sat down on his elbow chair, and began to look about him. In a -few seconds his daughter entered--flung herself on her father's knee and -bosom--clasped her arms about his neck--kissed him, and shed a flood of -tears on his breast. At first he felt somewhat startled at her embrace, -and his arms made a feeble and involuntary effort to press her away -from him; but she grew to him the closer, and welcomed him home with -such a burst of filial affection and tenderness, that nature in a short -time regained her empire over the father's heart; and there was to be -seen old Walter with his large hands pressing her slender waist, keeping -her at a little distance from him on his knee, and looking stedfastly in -her face, with the large tear rolling in his eye. It was such a look as -one sometimes takes of the corpse of one that was dearly beloved in -life. Well did she read this look, for she had the eye of the eagle for -discernment; but she hid her face again on his shoulder, and -endeavoured, by familiar enquiries, to wean him insensibly from his -reserve, and draw him into his wonted freedom of conversation with her. - -"Ye ken o'er well," said he at length, "how deep a haud ye hae o' this -heart, Keatie. Ye're my ain bairn still, and ye hae done muckle for my -life--but"---- - -"Muckle for your life!" said she, interrupting him--"I have been but too -remiss. I have regretted every hour that I was not with you attending -you in prison, administering to all my father's wants, and helping to -make the time of bondage and suspense pass over more lightsomely; but -grievous circumstances have prevented me. I have had sad doings here -since you went away, my dear father--there is not a feeling that can -rack the human heart that has not been my share. But I will confess all -my errors to my father, fall at his knees, and beg his forgiveness--ay, -and I hope to receive it too." - -"The sooner ye do sae the better then, Keatie," said he--"I was here -last night, an' saw a sight that was enough to turn a father's heart to -stane." - -"_You were here last night!_" said she emphatically, while her eyes were -fixed on the ground--"You were here last night! Oh! what shall become of -me!" - -"Ay, weel may ye say sae, poor lost and undone creature! I was here last -night, though worn back by some o' your infernals, an' saw ye in the -mids o' your dreadfu' game, wi' a' your bike o' hell round about ye. I -watna what your confession and explanation may do; but without these I -hae sworn to myself, and I'll keep my aith, that you and I shall never -night thegither again in the same house, nor the same part o' the -country--ay, though it should bring down my grey hairs wi' sorrow to the -grave, I'll keep that aith." - -"I fear it will turn out a rash vow," said she, "and one that we may all -repent to the last day that we have to live. There is danger and -jeopardy in the business, and it is connected with the lives and souls -of men; therefore, before we proceed farther in it, relate to me all the -circumstances of your trial, and by what means you are liberated." - -"I'll do that cheerfully," said Walter, "gin it war but to teach you -compliance." - -He then went over all the circumstances of his extraordinary trial, and -the conditions on which he was discharged; and ended by requiring her -positively to give him the promised explanation. - -"So you are only then out on bail," said she, "and liable to be cited -again on the same charges?" - -"No more," was the reply. - -"It is not then time yet for my disclosure," said she; "and no power on -earth shall wring it from me; therefore, my dear father, let me beg of -you to urge your request no farther, that I may not be under the painful -necessity of refusing you again." - -"I hae tauld ye my determination, Keatie," returned he; "an' ye ken I'm -no very apt to alter. If I should bind ye in a cart wi' my ain hands, ye -shall leave Chapelhope the night, unless ye can avert that by explaining -your connections to me. An' why should ye no?--Things can never appear -waur to my mind than they are just now--If hell itself had been opened -to my e'e, an' I had seen you ane o' the inmates, I coudna hae been -mair astoundit than I was yestreen. I'll send ye to Edinburgh, an' get -ye safely put up there, for I canna brook things ony langer in this -state. I winna hae my family scattered, an' made a bye-word and an -astonishment to the hale country this gate--Outher tell me the meaning -o't, or lay your account to leave your father's house this day for -ever." - -"You do not know what you ask, father--the thing is impossible. Was ever -a poor creature so hard bestead! Will not you allow me a few days to -prepare for such a departure?" - -"No ae day, nor ae hour either, Kate. Ye see this is a situation o' -things that canna' be tholed ony langer." - -She sat down as if in deep meditation, but she neither sobbed nor wept. -"You are only out on bail," said she, "and liable to be tried again on -the same grounds of charge?" - -"Ay, nae mair," said Walter; "but what need ye harp on that? I'm safe -enough. I forgot to tell you that the judges were sae thoroughly -convinced of my loyalty and _soundness_, (as they ca'd it) that they -wadna risk me to the vote of a jury; an' that the bit security they -sought was naething but a mere sham to get honourably quit of me. I was -likewise tauld by ane that kens unco weel, that the king has gotten -ither tow to teaze than persecuting whigs ony langer, an' that there -will soon be an order put out of a very different nature. There is never -to be mair blood shed on account of the covenanted reformation in -Scotland." - -When Walter began this speech, his daughter lifted up her downcast eyes, -and fixed them on his face with a look that manifested a kind of -hopeless apathy; but as he advanced, their orbs enlarged, and beamed -with a radiance as if she had been some superior intelligence. She did -not breathe--or, if she did, it stole imperceptibly from between her -parted ruby lips. "What did you say, my dear father?" said she. - -"What did I say!" repeated Walter, astonished and nettled at the -question--"What the deil was i' your lugs, that ye didna hear what I -said? I'm sure I spake out. Ye are thinking o' something else, Kate." - -"Be so good as repeat every word that you said over again," said she, -"and tell me whence you drew your intelligence." - -Walter did so; repeating it in still stronger and more energetic -language than he had done before, mentioning at the same time how he had -his information, which could not be doubted. - -"It is enough, my dear father," said she. "Say not another word about -it. I will lay open all my errors to my father this instant--come with -me, and I will show you a sight!" - -As she said this, she put her arm in her father's to lead him away; but -Walter looked about him with a suspicious and startled eye, and drew -somewhat back. - -"You must go instantly," continued she, "there is no time so fit; and -whatever you may see or hear, be not alarmed, but follow me, and do as I -bid you." - -"Nane o' your cantrips wi' me, Kate," said Walter--"I see your drift -weel eneugh, but ye'll find yoursel disappointit. I hae lang expectit it -wad come to this; but I'm determined against it." - -"Determined against what, my dear father?" - -"Ye want to mak a warlock o' me, ye imp o' mischief," said Walter; "but -I hae taen up my resolution there, an' a' the temptations o' Satan sanna -shake it. Nah! Gudefaith, auld Wat o' the Chapelhope's no gaun to be led -away by the lug an' the horn to the deil that gate." - -Katharine's mien had a tint of majesty in it, but it was naturally -serious. She scarcely ever laughed, and but seldom smiled; but when she -did so, the whole soul of delight beamed in it. Her face was like a dark -summer day, when the clouds are high and majestic, and the lights on the -valley mellowed into beauty. Her smile was like a fairy blink of the sun -shed through these clouds, than which, there is nothing in nature that I -know of so enlivening and beautiful. It was irresistible;--and such a -smile beamed on her benign countenance, when she heard her father's wild -suspicions expressed in such a blunt and ardent way; but it conquered -them all--he went away with her rather abashed, and without uttering -another word. - -They walked arm in arm up by the side of the burn, and were soon out of -sight of Nanny and the boys. Walter was busy all the way trying to form -some conjecture what the girl meant, and what was to be the issue of -this adventure, and began to suspect that his old friends, the -Covenant-men, were some way or other connected with it; that it was -they, perhaps, who had the power of raising those spirits by which his -dwelling had been so grievously haunted, for he had heard wonderful -things of them. Still there was no coindication of circumstances in any -of the calculations that he was able to make, for his house had been -haunted by Brownie and his tribe long ere he fell in with the fugitive -Covenanters. None of them had ever given him the least hint about the -matter, or the smallest key to it, which he believed they would have -done; nor had he ever mentioned a word of his connection with them to -one of his family, or indeed to any one living. Few were the words that -past between the father and daughter in the course of that walk, but it -was not of long duration. - -They soon came to the precipitate linn on the South Grain, where the -soldiers had been slain. Katharine being a little way before, began to -scramble across the face of the rock by a path that was hardly -perceptible. Walter called after her, "Where are ye gaun, Keatie? It's -impossible to win yont there--there's no outgate for a mouse." - -"We will try," answered she; "it is perhaps not so bad as it -looks--Follow me--you have nothing to fear." - -Walter followed; for however much he was affrighted for brownies, and -fairies, and dead corpses, and all these awful kind of things, he was no -coward among rocks and precipices. They soon reached a little dass in -the middle of the linn, or what an Englishman would call a small -landing-place. Here she paused till her father reached her, and pointed -out to him the singularity of their situation, with the burn roaring far -below their feet, and the rock fairly overhanging them above. - -"Is it not a romantic and tremendous spot?" said she. - -"It is that!" said Walter, "an' I believe you and I are the first that -ever stood on it." - -"Well, this is the end of our journey," said she; and, turning about, -she began to pull at a bush of heath that grew between two rocks. - -"What can she be gaun to do wi' the heather?" thought Walter to himself, -when instantly a door opened, and showed a cavern that led into the -hill. It was a door wattled with green heath, with the tops turned -outward so exactly, that it was impossible for any living to know but -that it was a bush of natural heath growing in the interstice. "Follow -me, my dear father," said she, "you have still nothing to fear;" and so -saying she entered swiftly in a stooping posture. Walter followed, but -his huge size precluded the possibility of his walking otherwise than on -all fours, and in that mode he fairly essayed to follow his mysterious -child; but the path winded--his daughter was quite gone--and the door -closed behind him, for it was so constructed as to fall to of itself, -and as Walter expressed it,--"There was he left gaun boring into the -hill like a moudiwort, in utter darkness." The consequence of all this -was, that Walter's courage fairly gave way, and, by an awkward -retrograde motion, he made all the haste he was able back to the light. -He stood on the shelve of the rock at the door for several minutes in -confused consternation, saying to himself, "What in the wide world is -com'd o' the wench? I believe she is gane away down into the pit bodily, -an' thought to wile me after her; or into the heart o' the hill, to some -enchantit cave, amang her brownies, an' fairies, an' hobgoblins. L----d -have a care o' me, gin ever I saw the like o' this!" Then losing -all patience, he opened the door, set in his head, and bellowed -out,--"Hollo, lassie!--What's com'd o' ye? Keatie Laidlaw--Holloa!" He -soon heard footsteps approaching, and took shelter behind the door, with -his back leaning to the rock, in case of any sudden surprise, but it was -only his daughter, who chided him gently for his timidity and want of -confidence in her, and asked how he could be frightened to go where a -silly girl, his own child, led the way? adding, that if he desired the -mystery that had so long involved her fate and behaviour to be cleared -up, he behoved to enter and follow her, or to remain in the dark for -ever. Thus admonished, Walter again screwed his courage to the -sticking-place, and entered in order to explore this mysterious cave, -following close to his daughter, who led him all the way by the collar -of the coat as he crept. The entrance was long and irregular, and in one -place very narrow, the roof being supported here and there by logs of -birch and alder. They came at length into the body of the cave, but it -was so dimly lighted from above, the vent being purposely made among -rough heath, which in part overhung and hid it from view without, that -Walter was almost in the middle of it ere ever he was aware, and still -creeping on his hands and knees. His daughter at last stopped short, on -which he lifted his eyes, and saw indistinctly the boundaries of the -cave, and a number of figures standing all around ready to receive him. -The light, as I said, entered straight from above, and striking on the -caps and bonnets which they wore on their heads, these shaded their -faces, and they appeared to our amazed goodman so many blackamoors, with -long shaggy beards and locks, and their garments as it were falling from -their bodies piece-meal. On the one side, right over against him, stood -a coffin, raised a little on two stones; and on the other side, on a -couch of rushes, lay two bodies that seemed already dead, or just in the -last stage of existence; and, at the upper end, on a kind of wicker -chair, sat another pale emaciated figure, with his feet and legs wrapt -up in flannel, a napkin about his head, and his body wrapped in an old -duffel cloak that had once belonged to Walter himself. Walter's vitals -were almost frozen up by the sight,--he uttered a hollow exclamation, -something like the beginning of a prayer, and attempted again to make -his escape, but he mistook the entrance, and groped against the dark -corner of the cavern. His daughter pulled him by the arm, intreating him -to stay, and addressing the inmates of that horrid den, she desired them -to speak to her father, and explain the circumstances of their case, for -he was still bewildered, and the scene was too much for him to bear. - -"That we will do joyfully," said one, in a strong intelligent voice. - -Walter turned his eyes on the speaker, and who was it but the redoubted -Brownie of Bodsbeck, so often mentioned before, in all his native -deformity; while the thing in the form of a broad bonnet that he wore on -his head, kept his features, grey locks and beard, wholly in the shade; -and, as he approached Walter, he appeared a being without any definitive -form or feature. The latter was now standing on his feet, with his back -leaned against the rock that formed the one side of the cave, and -breathing so loud, that every whiff sounded in the caverned arches like -the rush of the winter wind whistling through the crevices of the -casement. - -Brownie approached him, followed by others. - -"Be not alarmed, goodman," said the creature, in the same solemn and -powerful voice; "you see none here but fellow-creatures and -Christians--none who will not be happy to bestow on you their blessing, -and welcome you as a father." - -He stretched forth his hand to take hold of our goodman's. It was bent -to his side as by a spasm, and at the same time a volley of breath came -forth from his capacious chest with such a rush, that it was actually -like the snort of a horse that is frightened in the dark. The Brownie, -however, laid hold of it, stiff as it was, and gave it a squeeze and a -hearty shake. "You are welcome, sir!" continued the shapeless mass, "to -our dismal habitation. May the God of Heaven particularly bless you in -your _family_ and in all your other concerns!" - -The naming of this name dispelled Walter's wild apprehensions like a -charm, for though he was no devotee, yet his mind had a strong bias to -the superstitions of the country in which he was bred; therefore this -benediction, pronounced in such a tone of ardour and sublimity of -feeling, had a powerful effect on his mind. But the circumstance that -proved the most effective of all, was perhaps the sensible assurance -gained by the shaking of hands, that Brownie was really and truly a -corporeal being. Walter now held out his hand to all the rest as they -came forward one by one, and shook hands heartily with them all, while -every one of them blessed him in the name of their Maker or Redeemer. -Walter was still involved in mystery, and all this while he had never -uttered a word that any man could make meaning of; and after they had -all shook hands with him, he looked at the coffin; then at the figures -on the couch; then at the pale wretch on the wicker-seat, and then at -the coffin again. - -"Let us fully understand one another," said Katharine. "Pray, Brown, be -so good as detail the circumstances of this party as shortly as you can -to my father, for, as is natural, he is still perplexed and bewildered." - -"You see here before you, sir," said the little hunchbacked figure, "a -wretched remnant of that long persecuted, and now nearly annihilated -sect, the covenanted reformers of the west of Scotland. We were expelled -from our homes, and at last hunted from our native mountains like -wolves, for none of our friends durst shelter any of us on their -grounds, on pain of death. Even the rest of the persecuted disowned us, -and became our adversaries, because our tenets were more stern and -severe than theirs; for we acted on the principle of retaliation as far -as it lay in our power, holding that to be in consistency with the laws -of God and man; therefore were we expelled from their society, which -indeed we disdained. - -"We first came to Bodsbeck, where we got shelter for a few weeks. It was -there that I was first supposed by the menials, who chanced to see me, -to be a Brownie, and that superstitious idea the tenant thought meet to -improve for our safety; but on the approach of Lag's people he dismissed -us. We then fled to Leithenhall, from whence in a few days we were again -compelled to fly; and at last came to this wild, the only place in the -south that soldiers had never searched, nor could search with any degree -of success. After much labour we completed this cave, throwing the stuff -into the torrent below, so that the most minute investigator could not -distinguish the smallest difference in the linn, or face of the -precipice; and here we deemed we might live for years without being -discovered; and here we determined to live, till God should see fit, in -his own good time, to send some relief to his persecuted church in these -lands. - -"But alas, the worst evil of all awaited us! We subsisted for a -considerable time by bringing victuals over night from a great distance, -but even the means of obtaining these failed us; so that famine, and the -dampness of the air here, we being compelled to lie inactive in the -bowels of the earth for days and nights together, brought on us a -malignant and pestilential fever. In three days from its first symptoms -appearing, one half of our number were lying unable to move, or lift an -eye. What could we do? The remnant could not fly, and leave their sick -and wounded brethren to perish here unseen. We were unable to carry them -away with us, and if we had, we had no place to which we could have -conveyed them. We durst not apply to you, for if you had taken pity on -us, we knew it would cost you your life, and be the means of bereaving -your family of all your well-earned wealth. In this great extremity, as -a last resource, I watched an opportunity, and laid our deplorable case -before that dear maid your daughter--Forgive these tears, sir; you see -every eye around fills at mention of her name--She has been our guardian -angel--She has, under Almighty Providence, saved the lives of the whole -party before you--has supplied us with food, cordials, and medicines; -with beds, and with clothing, all from her own circumscribed resources. -For us she has braved every danger, and suffered every privation; the -dereliction of her parents, and the obloquy of the whole country. That -young man, whom you see sitting on the wicker chair there, is my only -surviving son of five--he was past hope when she found him--fast posting -to the last gaol--her unwearied care and attentions have restored him; -he is again in a state of convalescence--O may the Eternal God reward -her for what she has done to him and us! - -"Only one out of all the distressed and hopeless party has perished, he -whose body lies in that coffin. He was a brave, noble, and pious youth, -and the son of a worthy gentleman. When our dear nurse and physician -found your house deserted by all but herself, she took him home to a bed -in that house, where she attended him for the last seven days of his -life with more than filial care. He expired last night at midnight, amid -our prayers and supplications to heaven in his behalf, while that dear -saint supported his head in his dying moments, and shed the tear of -affliction over his lifeless form. She made the grave-clothes from her -own scanty stock of linen--tied her best lawn napkin round the head; -and"---- - -Here Walter could contain himself no longer; he burst out a crying, and -sobbed like a child. - -"An' has my Keatie done a' this?" cried he, in a loud broken voice--"Has -my woman done a' this, an' yet me to suspect her, an' be harsh till her? -I might hae kend her better!" continued he, taking her in his arms, and -kissing her cheek again and again. "But she sall hae ten silk gowns, an' -ten satin anes, for the bit linen she has bestowed on sic an occasion, -an' a' that she has wared on ye I'll make up to her a hunder an' fifty -fauld." - -"O my dear father," said she, "you know not what I have suffered for -fear of having offended you; for I could not forget that their -principles, both civil and religious, were the opposite of yours--that -they were on the adverse side to you and my mother, as well as the -government of the country." - -"Deil care what side they war on, Kate!" cried Walter, in the same -vehement voice; "ye hae taen the side o' human nature; the suffering and -the humble side, an' the side o' feeling, my woman, that bodes best in a -young unexperienced thing to tak. It is better than to do like yon bits -o' gillflirts about Edinburgh; poor shilly-shally milk-an'-water things! -Gin ye but saw how they cock up their noses at a whig, an' thraw their -bits o' gabs; an' downa bide to look at aught, or hear tell o' aught, -that isna i' the top fashion. Ye hae done very right, my good -lassie--od, I wadna gie ye for the hale o' them, an' they war a' hung in -a strap like ingans." - -"Then, father, since you approve I am happy. I have no care now save for -these two poor fellows on that couch, who are yet far from being out of -danger." - -"L----d sauf us!" said Walter, turning about, "I thought they had been twa -dead corpse. But now, when my een are used to the light o' the place, I -see the chaps _are_ living, an' no that unlife-like, as a body may say." - -He went up to them, spoke to them kindly, took their wan bleached sinewy -hands in his, and said, he feared they were still very ill? - -"Better than we have been," was the reply--"Better than we have been, -goodman. Thanks to you and yours." - -"Dear father," said Katharine, "I think if they were removed down to -Chapelhope, to dry comfortable lodgings, and had more regular diet, and -better attendance, their health might soon be re-established. Now that -you deem the danger over, will you suffer me to have them carried down -there?" - -"Will I no, Kate? My faith, they shall hae the twa best beds i' the -house, if Maron an' me should sleep in the barn! An' ye sal hae naething -ado but to attend them, an' nurse them late an' aire; an' I'll gar Maron -Linton attend them too, an' she'll rhame o'er bladds o' scripture to -them, an' they'll soon get aboon this bit dwam. Od, if outher gude fare -or drogs will do it, I'll hae them playin' at the pennystane wi' Davie -Tait, an' prayin' wi' him at night, in less than twa weeks." - -"Goodman," said old Brown, (for this celebrated Brownie was no other -than the noted Mr John Brown, the goodman of Caldwell)--"Goodman, well -may you be proud this day, and well may you be uplifted in heart on -account of your daughter. The more I see and hear of her, the more am I -struck with admiration; and I am persuaded of this, that, let your past -life have been as it may, the Almighty will bless and prosper you on -account of that maid. The sedateness of her counsels, and the qualities -of her heart, have utterly astonished me--She has all the strength of -mind, and energy of the bravest of men, blent with all the softness, -delicacy, and tenderness of femininity--Neither danger nor distress can -overpower her mind for a moment--tenderness does it at once. If ever an -angel appeared on earth in the form of woman, it is in that of your -daughter"-- - -"I wish ye wad haud your tongue," said Walter, who stood hanging his -head, and sobbing aloud. The large tears were not now dropping from his -eyes--they were trickling in torrents. "I wish ye wad haud your tongue, -an' no mak me ower proud o' her. She's weel eneugh, puir woman----It's -a--It's a shame for a great muckle auld fool like me to be booin an' -greetin like a bairn this gate!--but deil tak the doer gin I can help -it!--I watna what's ta'en me the day!--She's weel eneugh, puir lassie. -I daresay I never learned her ony ill, but I little wat where she has -gotten a' the gude qualities ye brag sae muckle o', unless it hae been -frae Heaven in gude earnest; for I wat weel, she has been brought up but -in a ramstamphish hamely kind o' way wi' Maron an' me.--But come, come! -let us hae done wi' this fuffing an' blawing o' noses, an' making o' wry -faces. Row the twa puir sick lads weel up, an' bring them down in the -bed-claes to my house. An' d'ye hear, callants--gudesake get your beards -clippit or shaven a wee, an' be something warld like, an' come a' down -to Chapelhope; I'll kill the best wedder on the Hermon-Law, an' we shall -a' dine heartily thegither for aince; I'll get ower Davie Tait to say -the grace, an' we'll be as merry as the times will allow." - -They accepted the invitation, with many expressions of gratitude and -thankfulness, and the rays of hope once more enlightened the dejected -countenances that had so long been overshadowed with the gloom of -despair. - -"But there's ae thing, callants," said Walter, "that has astonished me, -an' I canna help speering. Where got ye the coffin sae readily for the -man that died last night?" - -"That coffin," said Brown, "was brought here one night by the friends of -one of the men whom Clavers caused to be shot on the other side of the -ridge there, which you saw. The bodies were buried ere they came; it -grew day on them, and they left it; so, for the sake of concealment, we -brought it into our cave. It has been useful to us; for when the -wretched tinker fell down among us from that gap, while we were at -evening worship, we pinioned him in the dark, and carried him in that -chest to your door, thinking he had belonged to your family. That led to -a bloody business, of which you shall hear anon. And in that coffin, -too, we carried off your ungrateful curate so far on his journey, -disgraced for ever, to come no more within twenty miles of Chapelhope, -on pain of a dreadful death in twenty-four hours thereafter; and I -stand warrandice that he shall keep his distance. In it we have now -deposited the body of a beloved and virtuous friend, who always foretold -this, from its first arrival in our cell.--But he rejoiced in the -prospect of his dissolution, and died as he had lived, a faithful and -true witness; and his memory shall long be revered by all the just and -the good." - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -I hate long explanations, therefore this chapter shall be very short; -there are, however, some parts of the foregoing tale, which require that -a few words should be subjoined in elucidation of them. - -This John Brown was a strenuous and desperate reformer. He was the son -of a gentleman by a second marriage, and half-brother to the Laird of -Caldwells. He was at the battle of Pentland, with five brave sons at his -back, two of whom were slain in the action, and he himself wounded. He -was again at Bothwell Bridge with the remaining three, where he was a -principal mover of the unhappy commotions in the army that day, owing to -his violent irreclaimable principles of retaliation. A little before -the rout became general, he was wounded by a musket bullet, which grazed -across his back, and deprived him of all power. A dragoon coming up, and -seeing him alive, struck him again across the back with his sword, which -severed the tendons, and cut him to the bone. His sons had seen him -fall, and, knowing the spot precisely, they returned overnight, and -finding him still alive, they conveyed him to a place of safety, and -afterwards to Glasgow, where he remained concealed in a garret in a -friend's house for some months; and, after great sufferings in body and -mind, recovered of his wounds; but, for want of surgical assistance, he -was so crooked and bowed down, that his nearest friends could not know -him; for in his youth, though short in stature, he was strong and -athletic. At length he reached his own home, but found it ransacked and -desolate, and learned that his wife was carried to prison, he knew not -whether. His powerful eloquence, and wild Cameronian principles, made -him much dreaded by the other party; a high reward was offered for -apprehending him, so that he was driven to great straits, yet never -failed to wreak his vengeance on all of the persecuting party that fell -within his power, and he had still a number of adherents. - -At length there was one shot in the fields near Kirkconnel that was -taken for him, and the promised reward actually paid; on which the -particular search after him subsided. His two youngest sons both died -for the same cause with the former, but James, his third son, always -kept by his father, until taken prisoner by Clavers as he was fishing -one day in Coulter Water. Clavers ordered him to be instantly shot, but -the Laird of Coulteralloes being present, interceded for him, and he was -detained a prisoner, carried about from place to place, and at length -confined in the gaol at Selkirk. By the assistance of his father and -friends he effected his escape, but not before being grievously wounded; -and, by reason of the hurts he received, and the fever that attacked -them in the cave, when Katharine was first introduced there, he was -lying past hope; but, by her unwearied care and attention, he, with -others, was so far recovered as to be able to sit up, and walk about a -little. He was poor Nanny's own son; and this John was her husband, whom -she had long deemed in another and a happier state--No wonder that she -was shocked and affrighted when she saw him again in such a form at -midnight, and heard him speak in his own natural and peculiar voice. -Their meeting that day at Chapelhope must be left to the imagination; it -is impossible for any pen to do it justice. - -It is only necessary to add, that Walter seems to have been as much -respected and beloved by his acquaintances and domestics, at least as -any neighbour or master of the present day, as will appear from the few -following remarks. The old session-clerk and precentor at Ettrick said, -"It was the luckiest thing that could have happened that he had come -home again, for the poor's ladle had been found to be a pund Scots short -every Sunday since he and his family had left church." And fat Sandy -Cunningham, the conforming clergyman there, a very honest inoffensive -man, remarked, "that he was very glad to hear the news, for the goodman -always gave the best dinners at the visitations and examinations of any -farmer in his parish; and one always felt so comfortable in his house." -Davie Tait said, that "Divine Providence had just been like a stell dike -to the goodman. It had bieldit him frae the bitter storm o' the -adversary's wrath, an' keepit a' the thunner-bolts o' the wicked frae -brikking on his head; that, for his part, he wad sit down on his knees -an' thank Heaven, Sunday and Saturday, for his return, for he could -easily lend his master as muckle siller as wad stock a' Riskinhope ower -again, an' there was little doubt but he wad do it." Even old John of -the Muchrah remarked, "that it was just as weel that his master was -come back, for he had an unco gude e'e amang the sheep when ought was -gaun wrang on the hill, an' the ewes wadna win nae mair into the hogg -fence o' the Quave Brae, i' the day time at ony rate." - -If there are any incidents in this Tale that may still appear a little -mysterious, they will all be rendered obvious by turning to a pamphlet, -entitled, A CAMERONIAN'S TALE, or _The Life of John Brown, written by -himself_. But any reader of common ingenuity may very easily solve them -all. - -END OF THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK. - - - - -THE WOOL-GATHERER. - -MODERN. - - - - -Love is a passion so capricious, so violent, and so productive of -whimsical expedients, that there is no end of its varieties. Dramas may -be founded, plots arranged, and novels written on the subject, yet the -simple truth itself generally outlasts them all. The following story, -which relates to an amiable family still existing, is so like a romance, -that perhaps the word of a narrator is insufficient to stamp it with -that veracity to which it is entitled. The principal incidents, however, -are set down precisely as they were related to me; only I have deemed it -meet to change the designations of the individuals, so far that they -cannot be recognised by any one not previously acquainted with the -circumstances. - -The late Laird of Earlhall dying in the fiftieth year of his age, as his -grave-stone intimates, left behind him a widow, and two sons both in -their minority. The eldest was of a dashing impatient character--he had -a kind and affectionate heart, but his actions were not always tempered -with prudence. He entered at an early age into the army, and fell in the -Peninsular War when scarcely twenty-two years of age. The estate thus -devolved wholly on the youngest, whose name for the present shall be -Lindsey, that being his second Christian name, and the one by which his -mother generally called him. He had been intended for the law, but on -his brother's death gave up the study as too laborious for his easy and -careless disposition. He was attached to literature; and after his -return home his principal employment consisted in poring over his books, -and managing a little flower-garden in which he took great delight. He -was studious, absent, and sensible, but paid little attention to his -estate, or the extensive farm which he himself occupied. - -The old lady, who was a stirring, talkative, industrious dame, -entertained him constantly with long lectures on the ill effects of -idleness. She called it the _blight_ of youth, the _grub_ of virtue, and -the _mildew_ of happiness; and sometimes, when roused into energy, she -said it was _the devil's langsettle_ on which he plotted all his devices -against human weal. Lindsey bore all with great patience, but still -continued his easy and indolent way. - -The summer advanced--the weather became peculiarly fine--labourers were -busy in every field, and the shepherd's voice, and the bleating of his -flocks, sounded from the adjacent mountains by break of day. This lively -and rousing scene gave a new edge to the old lady's remonstrances; they -came upon poor Lindsey thicker and faster, like the continued dropping -of a rainy day, until he was obliged in some degree to yield. He tried -to reason the matter with her, in somewhat near to the following words; -but there, lawyer as he was, he had no chance. He was fairly overcome. - -"My dear mother," said he, "what does all this signify?--Or what is it -that I can effect by my superintendance? Our farmers are all doing well, -and pay their rents regularly; and as for our farm-servants, they have -each of them filled the same situation so long and so creditably, that I -feel quite awkward when standing looking over them,--it looks as if I -suspected their integrity, which has been so often proved. Besides, it -is a leading maxim with me, that if a man, and more particularly a -woman, know or believe that trust is reposed in them, they will, in ten -out of eleven instances, deserve it; but if once they see that they are -suspected, the feeling towards you is changed, and they will in a little -time as likely deserve the one as the other. Our wealth is annually -increasing, at least as fast as necessary, and it is my principal wish, -that every one under us may be as easy and comfortable as possible." - -This was true, for the old lady being parsimonious in the extreme, their -riches had increased rapidly since the death of the late laird. As for -Lindsey, he never spent any thing, save some trifle that he laid out -yearly in payment of Reviews, and new books, and in relieving some poor -families in the neighbourhood. The article of dress he left entirely to -his mother: Whatever she bought or made for him he approved of, and -whatever clothes or linen she laid down in his chamber, he put on -without any observations. He acted upon the same principle with regard -to his meals, but he sometimes was obliged to insist on a little -addition being made to the comforts of the family servants, all of whom -loved him as a friend and benefactor. He could at any time have swayed -his mother so far as to make her a little more liberal towards the -men-servants, but with regard to the maids he had no such power. She and -they lived at constant variance,--an irreconcileable jealousy seemed -always to subsist between them, and woe to them if the young laird -interested himself in their favour! Matters being in this state, he was -obliged to witness this mutual animosity; this tyranny on the one hand, -and discontent on the other, without having the power to amend it. - -"But then, my dear Lindsey," returned she to his former remonstrance, -"making allowance for a' that you say--allowing that your weel-spoken -arguments are a' foundit in truth, for laith wad you be to say an -untruth, an' I never heard an argument that wasna sound come out o' your -mouth,--but then I say, what's to hinder you to gang a fishing like -other gentlemen, or shooting moor-cocks, an' paetricks, an' black-cocks, -as a' ither countrymen o' your age an' station do? Some manly exercise -in the field is absolutely necessary to keep your form robust, your -colour fresh, and your mind active; an', indeed, you maunna be -discontentit, nor displeased, if I insist on it, while the weather is so -fine." - -"With regard to fowling, my dear mother, I am perfectly ignorant; I know -nothing about the sport, and I never can delight in it, for often has it -given me pain to see others pursuing it. I think the pleasure arising -from it can scarcely originate in any thing else than a principle of -cruelty. Fishing is little better. I never regret the killing of an ox, -or sheep, by which we have so much necessary food for our life, but I -think it hard to take a precious life for a single mouthful." - -"His presence be about us! Lindsey! what's that ye say? Wha heard ever -tell of a trout's precious life? Or a salmon's precious life? Or a ged's -precious life? Wow, man, but sma' things are precious i' your een! Or -wha can feel for a trout? A cauldrife creature that has nae feeling -itsel; a greedy grampus of a thing, that worries its ain kind, an' eats -them whenever it can get a chance. Na, na, Lindsey, let me hear nae mair -o' sickan lang-nebbit fine-spun arguments; but do take your father's -rod, like a man, and a gentleman, and gang a fishing, if it were but an -hour in the day; there are as many hooks and lines in the house as will -serve you for seven years to come; an' it is weel kend how plenty the -trouts are in your ain water. I hae seen the day when we never wanted -plenty o' them at this time o' the year." - -"Well, well," said Lindsey, taking up a book, "I shall go to please you, -but I would rather be at home." - -She rung the bell, and ordered in old John the barnman, one well skilled -in the art of angling. "John," said she, "put your master's fishing-rod -and tackle in order, he is going a fishing at noon." - -John shrugged up his shoulders when he heard of his master's intent, as -much as to say, "sic a fisher as he'll mak!" however, he went away in -silence, and the order was quickly obeyed. - -Thus equipt, away trudged Lindsay to the fishing for the first time in -his life; slowly and indifferently he went, and began at the first pool -he came to. John offered to accompany him, to which he assented, but -this the old lady resisted, and bid him go to his work; he, however, -watched his master's motions slyly for some time, and on joining his -fellow labourers remarked, that "his master was a real saft hand at the -fishing." - -An experienced angler certainly would have been highly amused at his -procedure. He pulled out the line, and threw it in again so fast, that -he appeared more like one threshing corn than angling; he, moreover, -fixed always upon the smoothest parts of the stream, where no trout in -his right senses could possibly be inveigled. But the far greater part -of his employment consisted in loosening the hook from different objects -with which it chanced to come in contact. At one time he was to be seen -stooping to the arm-pits in the middle of the water, disengaging it from -some officious twig that had intercepted its progress; at another time -on the top of a tree tearing off a branch on which it had laid hold. A -countryman happening to pass by just as he stood stripped to the shirt -cutting it out of his clothes, in which it had fastened behind, -observed, by way of friendly remark, that "they were fashous things them -hooks." Lindsey answered, that "they certainly had a singular knack of -catching hold of things." - -He went through all this without being in the least disconcerted, or -showing any impatience; and towards dinner-time, the trouts being -abundant, and John having put on a fly that answered the weather, he -caught some excellent fish, and might have caught many more had he been -diligent; but every trout that he brought ashore took him a long time to -contemplate. He surveyed his eye, his mouth, and the structure of his -gills with tedious curiosity; then again laid him down, and fixed his -eyes on him in deep and serious meditation. - -The next day he needed somewhat less persuasion from his mother to try -the same amusement; still it was solely to please her that he went, for -about the sport itself he was quite careless. Away he set the second -day, and prudently determined to go farther up the water, as he supposed -that part to be completely emptied of fish where he had been the day -before. He sauntered on in his usual thoughtful and indifferent mood, -sometimes throwing in his line without any manner of success. At length, -on going over an abrupt ridge, he came to a clear pool where the farmers -had lately been washing their flocks, and by the side of it a most -interesting female, apparently not exceeding seventeen years of age, -gathering the small flakes of wool in her apron that had fallen from the -sheep in washing; while, at the same time, a beautiful well-dressed -child, about two years old, was playing on the grass. Lindsey was close -beside her before any of them were aware, and it is hard to say which of -the two were most surprised. She blushed like scarlet, but pretended to -gather on, as if wishing he would pass without taking any notice of -them; but Lindsey was rivetted to the spot; he had never in his life -seen any woman half so beautiful, and at the same time her array -accorded with the business in which she was engaged. Her form was the -finest symmetry; her dark hair was tucked up behind with a comb, and -hung waving in ringlets over her cheeks and brow, "like shadows on the -mountain snow;" and there was an elegance in the model of her features, -arms, and hands, that the youth believed he had never before seen -equalled in any lady, far less a country girl. - -"What are you going to do with that wretched stuff, lassie?" said -Lindsey; "it has been trampled among the clay and sand, and is unfit for -any human use." - -"It will easily clean again, sir," said she, in a frank and cheerful -voice, "and then it will be as good as ever." - -"It looks very ill; I am positive it is for no manner of use." - -"It is certainly, as you say, not of great value, sir; but if it is of -any, I may as well lift it as let it lie and rot here." - -"Certainly, there can be no harm in it; only I am sorry to see such a -girl at such an employment." - -"It is better doing this than nothing," was the reply. - -The child now rolled himself over to get his face turned towards them; -and, fixing his large blue eyes on Lindsey, looked at him with the -utmost seriousness. The latter observing a striking likeness between the -girl and the child, had no doubt that she was his sister; and, unwilling -to drop the conversation, he added, abruptly enough, "Has your mother -sent you to gather that stuff?" - -"I have neither father nor mother, sir." - -"But one who supplies both their places, I hope. You have a husband, -have not you?" - -"Not as yet, sir; but there is no time lost." - -She blushed; but Lindsey coloured ten times deeper when he cast his eyes -upon the child. His heart died within him at the thoughts that now -obtruded themselves; it was likewise wrung for his imprudence and -indelicacy. What was his business whether she was married or not, or how -she was connected with the child? She seemed likewise to be put into -some confusion at the turn the conversation was taking; and, anxious to -bring it to a conclusion as soon as possible, she tucked up the wool in -her apron below one arm, and was lifting up the child with the other to -go away, when Lindsey stepped forward, saying, "Will not you shake hands -with me, my good little fellow, before you go?" - -"Ay," said the child, stretching out his little chubby hand; "how d'ye -doo, sil?" - -Lindsay smiled, shook his hand heartily, and put a crown piece into it. - -"Ah, sir, don't give him that," said she, blushing deeply. - -"It is only a play-thing that he must keep for my sake." - -"Thank you, sil," said the child. "Great muckle shilling, mamma." - -This last appellation, _mamma_, struck Lindsey motionless;--he had not -another word to say;--while the two went away prattling to one another. - -"Vely lalge fine-looking shilling, mamma." - -"Ay, it is a very bonny shilling, dear," said she, kissing him, and -casting a parting look at the petrified fisher. - -"Mamma, mamma!" repeated Lindsey to himself an hundred times, trying it -with every modulation of his voice. "This is the most extraordinary -circumstance I ever witnessed. Now, who in the world can comprehend that -thing called woman?--Who would not have sworn that that rural beauty -there was the most pure, innocent, and untainted of her sex?--And yet, -behold! she has a fine boy running at her side, and calling her -_mamma_!--Poor girl, is she not to be pitied?--When one thinks how some -tender parent might rejoice over her, anticipating so much better things -of her! It is plain she has been very indifferently used by the -world--most cruelly used--and is she the less interesting on that -account? I wish I knew how to make her some amends." - -Thus reasoned our moral fisher with himself, keeping all the while a -sidelong glance towards her, till he saw her enter a little neat -white-washed cottage not far from the side of the stream; there were -sundry other houses inhabited by cottagers in the hamlet, and the -farm-house stood at the head of the cluster. The ground belonged to -Lindsey, and the farmer was a quiet sober man, a widower, with a large -family. Lindsey now went up the water a-fishing every day; and though he -often hovered a considerable while at the washing-pool, and about the -crook opposite to the cot, pretending all the while to be extremely busy -fishing, he could never get another sight of the lovely Wool-gatherer, -though he desired it above all present earthly things; for, some way -or other, he felt that he _pitied_ her exceedingly; and though he -was not greatly _interested_ in her, yet he was very much so in the -_child_--he was _certain it was the child_ that interested him so -much--nevertheless, he was sorry too on account of the mother, for she -seemed _very gentle_, and _very amiable_, and must have been abominably -used; and therefore he could not help feeling _very sorry for her -indeed_, as well as deeply _interested in the child_. On the second and -third day that he went up, little George came out paddling to meet him -at the water side, on which he always sent him in again with a fish in -one hand, and some little present in the other; but after that, he -appeared no more, which Lindsey easily perceived to originate in the -Wool-gatherer's diffidence and modesty, who could not bear the idea of -her little man receiving such gifts. - -The same course was continued for many days, and always with the same -success, as far as regarded the principal motive, for the trouts were -only a secondary one--the beauteous Wool-gatherer was thenceforward -invisible. After three weeks perseverance, it chanced to come on a heavy -rain one day when he was but a little way above the farm-house. Robin -the farmer, expecting that he would fly into his house until the shower -abated, was standing without his own door to receive him; but he kept -aloof, passed by, and took shelter in the Wool-gatherer's cottage; -though not without some scruples of conscience as to the prudence of the -step he was taking. When he went in she was singing a melodious Scotch -air, and plying at her wheel. "What a thoughtless creature she must be," -said he to himself; "and how little conscious of the state to which she -has fallen." He desired her to go on with her song, but she quitted both -that and her wheel instantly, set a chair for him, and sitting down on a -low form herself, lighted sticks on the fire to warm and dry him, at the -same time speaking and looking with the utmost cheerfulness, and -behaving with all that ease and respect as if she had been his equal, -and an old intimate acquaintance. He had a heart of the greatest -integrity, and this was the very manner that delighted him; and indeed -he felt that he was delighted in the highest degree by this fair -mystery. He would gladly have learned her story, but durst not hint at -such a thing for fear of giving her pain, and he had too much delicacy -to enquire after her at any other person, or even to mention her name. -He observed that though there was but little furniture in the house, yet -it was not in the least degree like any other he had ever seen in such a -cottage, and seemed very lately to have occupied a more respectable -situation. Little George was mounching at a lump of dry bread, making -very slow progress. He kept his eyes fixed on his benefactor, but said -nothing for a considerable time, till at length he observed him sitting -silent as in pleasing contemplation; he then came forward with a bounce -upon his knee, and smiled up in his face, as much as to say, "You are -not minding little George?" - -"Ah, my dear little fellow, are you there? Will you have a muckle -shilling of me to-day?" - -"Na, na; be vely solly. Mamma quite angly. She scold me." - -"Well, but since you have never come to help me to catch the fish for so -long a time, I will only give you a very little one to-day." - -"Dear sir, if you would not distress me, don't mind him; he is a little -impudent fellow.--Go off from the gentleman, George." - -George clapped both his hands upon his head, and went back without -hesitation, gloomed at his mamma, and took again up his luncheon of dry -bread. - -"Nay, pardon me," continued Lindsey; "but you must always suffer me to -give my little new acquaintance something." So saying, he put a guinea -into the child's hand. - -"Hank you, sil," said George,--"O no be angy, mamma--only ittle wee -half-penny--ook ye, mamma." - -"Oh sir," said she, "you distress me by these presents. I have no need -of money, and what can he do with it but throw it away?" - -"Nay, nay; pray don't notice it; that is nothing between two friends -like George and me." - -Lindsey dried himself; talked of indifferent matters, and then took the -child on his knee and talked to him. The conversation had as yet been as -free and unrestrained as possible, but Lindsey, by a blunder quite -natural to a studious and absent man, cut it short at once. "Tell me -your name, good lad?" said he to the child. "Let me hear you say your -name?" - -"Geoge," was the reply. - -"But what more than George? Tell me what they call you more than -George?" - -"Just Geoge, sil. Mamma's Geoge." - -"Pray, what is my young friend's surname?" said Lindsey, with the -greatest simplicity. - -The Wool-gatherer stooped to the floor as if lifting something, in order -that she might keep her face out of the light; two or three times an -answer seemed trembling on her tongue, but none came. There was a dead -silence in the cot, which none had the courage to break. How our -unfortunate fisher's heart smote him! He meant only to confer happiness, -in place of which he had given unnecessary pain and confusion. The -shower was past; he arose abruptly, said, "Goodb'ye, I will call and see -my little George to-morrow," and home he went, more perplexed than ever, -and not overmuch pleased with himself. But the thing that astonished -him most of all was, the chearful serenity of her countenance and -manners under such grievous misfortunes. He did not know whether to -blame or approve of her for this; however, he continued to go up the -water for the most part every day, and seldom failed to call at the cot. -He meant no ill--he was certain he meant no harm to any one--it was only -to _see the child_ that he went, and why should any man be ashamed to go -and see a child? Very well reasoned, gentle fisher! but beware that this -is not the reverse of what you feel within. At all events, it is the -world that must judge of your actions and mine, not we ourselves. -Scandal is a busy vixen, and none can make fame fly so fast on an errand -as she. - -Robin, the farmer, was hurt in the tenderest part that day when his -laird went by his door, and took shelter in the Wool-gatherer's cot; -and, on going in, he mentioned it in such a way, that his old maiden -sister, Meg, took note of it, and circulated it among the men-servants, -with strong injunctions of secrecy. The continuation of his visits -confirmed their worst suspicions: It was now no longer a matter of doubt -with them what was going on, but an obvious certainty. The shameful and -sudden attachment was blabbed from tongue to tongue, until every ear in -the parish had drunk the delicious draught, save those of the parties -implicated, and the old lady, the original cause of all. When he was -seen go into the cot, an event that was strictly watched, the lasses -would smile to each other,--the plowmen broke jests upon it,--and Meg -would hold up both her hands and say,--"Hech wow, sirs! I wonder what -our young gentles will turn to by an' by. It winna be lang till marriage -be out o' the fashion a' thegither, an' the fock that pretend to be -Christians a' living through other like the wild Tartarers." - -Little wist the old lady of what was going on! She dreamed not once of a -beautiful stranger among the cottagers at Todburn (the name of Robin's -farm), that was working such deray, else woe would have been to her and -all concerned; for there was nothing short of the sin not to be -forgiven, that she dreaded so much as her son forming any attachment or -connection with the country maidens. She had been congratulating herself -mightily on the success of her expedient, in making him take such -delight in a manly and healthful exercise, and one which led him -insensibly to be acquainted with his people, and every part of his -estate. She had even been boasting aloud of it to every one with whom -she conversed; indeed her conversation with others was mostly about her -son, for he being her only surviving child, she loved him with her whole -heart, and her cares were all for him. - -It happened one day that a little pert girl had come down from one of -the cottages at Todburn to buy some milk, which the lady supplied to -them from her dairy, and while skimming and measuring it, she fell into -conversation with this little sly and provoking imp. - -"Did you see my son fishing in the water as you came down?" - -"Na, na, mim; he was safe landit or I came away. He was fishing wi' -Hoy's net." - -"Safe landit? Fishing wi' Hoy's net?--How do you mean?" - -"He was gane in to tak a rest, mim,--that's a'." - -"Oh, that was a'--was it? I'm glad to hear o' that. I never knew he had -called upon his tenants, or looked after them at all!" - -"I trow he disna look muckle after them, mim. He's keener o' lookin' -after something else." - -"Oh ay, the trouts! To be sure they hae almaist gane between him an' his -wits for some time; but he'll aye be seeing something o' his land, an' -something o' his fock. It was I that perswaded him to it. There are some -lucky hits in life." - -"Ay, an' some lucky misses too, mim, that some think he likes as weel." - -"He's sae tender-hearted, I believe he may be as happy oft to miss the -fish as to hit them; but that will soon wear away, as I tell him. He's -tender-hearted to a fault." - -"An' there's mae tender-heartit nor him. There's some other kind o' -misses forbye trouts up the water." - -"What is it you say?" - -"I'll say nae mair about it--ane may very easily speak muckle nonsense." - -"Didna ye say that my son was gane into Robin's house afore ye came -away?" - -"I never said sic a word, begging your pardon, mim. He wadna gang into -Robin's, though it war raining auld wives and Jeddart staves." - -"What house was he gone into then?" - -"Into Jeany's, mim." - -"Jeany's! What Jeany?" - -"I dinna ken what they ca' her mair than Jeany. Little George's mother, -ye ken, that lives at the head o' the Washing-green." - -"Jeany!--Little George's mother!--That lives at the head o' the -Washing-green!--Wha is she? Where comes she frae? Has she a husband?" - -"Na, na, mim--nae husband." - -The lady breathed as short as if in the heat of a fever--hasted out to -the air, and then returned with equal haste into the house, without -being able to accomplish any thing, for her hands trembled like the -aspin leaf; and, finally, after ordering the girl to send Robin down to -her immediately, she took to her bed, and lay brooding over the great -calamity of her son's shameful attachment. These low-bred women were her -bane; especially if they were beautiful, she loathed, she hated, and, if -she could, would have cleared the country of them. This, therefore, was -a great trial; and before Robin arrived, she had made out to herself a -picture of as many disagreeable objects as ever a distempered -imagination conceived. Instead of a genteel respected wife, the head of -a lovely family, a disgraceful connection, and an illegitimate -offspring! Ills followed on ills, a dreadful train! She could think of -nothing else, and the more she thought of it the worse did the -consequences appear. Before her messenger _reached_ Robin, she had -regularly determined on the young woman's dismissal from the estate, -and, if possible, from the district. - -We shall pass over a long conversation that took place between the old -dame and Robin. It was maintained with great bitterness on the one hand, -and servility on the other; but the final resolution was, that Jane -should be ordered to depart from Todburn that night, or early the next -morning; and if she refused, Robin was to bribe her to a compliance with -any moderate sum of money, rather than that she should be suffered to -remain longer; for the lady sagely observed, she might corrupt and lead -astray all the young men in the country side, and would likely, at the -long run, cost the parish more than if it were to maintain a company of -soldiers. Last of all, it was decreed that their proceedings should be -kept a profound secret from Lindsey. - -Robin went home; and waiting upon Jane, told her abruptly to prepare for -her immediate departure from the house that she occupied, for that she -could not be longer there; and that he would be answerable for her -furniture until she sent for it, or otherwise disposed of it; that she -needed not to ask any questions as to his motives, for that he was -obliged to do as he did, and the thing was decided that she was not to -remain longer there. - -She answered not a word; but, with the tears in her eyes, and many a -half-smothered sob, she packed up a small bundle of clothes, and, taking -that below her arm and little George on her back, she went away, having -first locked the door and given the key to the farmer. "Farewell, -Robin," said she; "you are turning two very helpless and friendless -creatures out to the open fields; but think you, you may not rue this on -a day when you cannot help it?" - -Robin was affected, but he was obliged to do as he was desired, and -therefore made no defence, but said simply, "Farewell! Farewell!--God -help thee, poor thing!"--He then kept an eye on her, that she might not -communicate with any of the rest until she was fairly across the end of -the Todburn-Law, and he was agreeably surprised at seeing her take that -direction. - -As soon as she got out of sight of her late dwelling, she sought a -retired spot by the side of a clear mountain rivulet, where she sat down -and gave free vent to her tears. "My poor child," said she, clasping -little George to her breast, "what is now to become of us, and where -will our sorrows terminate? Here we are turned out on the wide world, -and have neither house nor home to cover our heads; we have no bed now, -George, but the cold earth, and no covering but that sky that you see -over us." - -"O no geet, mamma--no geet; Geoge vely wae," said the child, clasping -her neck in return, and sobbing aloud; "no geet, else Geoge tuln bad -child, and geet too." - -"No, for your sake, my dear, I will not greet; therefore cheer up thy -little kind heart, for there is One who will provide for us still, and -will not suffer two helpless inexperienced beings like you and I to -perish." - -"Geoge like 'at man." - -"It is no man that we must now depend on, my dear; we must depend on -God, who will never forsake us." - -"Geoge like God." - -Here she kissed him and wept anew, yet was all the while trying to -console him. "Let us be of good cheer, George; while I have health I -will work for you, for you have no one else on earth that cares for -you." - -"But no geet, mamma, I tell you; Geoge wulk too. When Geoge tuln geat -big man, Geoge wulk mole 'an two mans." - -Here their tender prattle was interrupted by a youth named Barnaby, who -was close at their side before they observed him. He was one of Robin's -servants, who herded a few young sheep at the back of the hill where -Jane was sitting. He was fifteen years of age, tall and thin, but had -fine features, somewhat pitted with the small-pox. He had an -inexhaustible fund of good-humour and drollery, and playing the fool -among the rest of the servants to keep them laughing was his chiefest -delight; but his folly was all affected, and the better part of his -character lay concealed behind the screen of a fantastic exterior. He -never mended his clothes like the rest of the servant lads, but suffered -them to fall into as many holes as they inclined; when any expostulated -with him on the subject, he said, "he likit them nae the waur o' twa or -three holes to let in the air;" and, in truth, he was as ragged a youth -as one would see in a summer day. His hat was remarkably broad-brimmed -and supple, and hung so far over his eyes, that, when he looked any -person in the face, he had to take the same position as if looking at a -vertical star. This induced him often, when he wanted to see fairly -about him, to fold in the fore part of the brim within the crown, which -gave it the appearance of half a hat, and in this way was he equipped -when he joined Jane and little George. They had been intimately -acquainted from the first; he had done many little kind offices for her, -and had the sagacity to discover that there was something about her -greatly superior to the other girls about the hamlet; and he had never -used the same freedom with her in his frolics that he was wont to do -with them. - -"What ails you, Jeany?" said he; "I thought I heard you greeting." - -"No, no, Barnaby; I do not ail any thing; I was not crying." - -"Why, woman, you're _crying_ yet, as you call it; tell me what ails you, -and whar ye're gaun this wild gate?" - -"I'm going to leave you, Barnaby. I am going far from this." - -"I fear ye're gaun awa frae us a'thegether. Hae ye been obliged to leave -your ain wee house for want o' meat?" - -"I had plenty of meat; but your master has turned me out of my cot at an -hour's warning; he would not even suffer me to remain overnight, and I -know of no place to which I can go." - -"O, deil be i' the auld hard-heartit loon! Heard ever ony body the like -o' that?--What ailed him at ye? Hae ye done ony thing, Jeany, or said -ony thing wrang?" - -"It is that which distresses me. I have not been given to know my -offence, and I can form no conjecture of it." - -"If I had a hame, Jeany, ye should hae a share o't. I dinna ken o' ane I -wad make mair welcome, even though I should seek a bed for mysel. War ye -at my father's cottage, I could insure you a month's good hamely -lodging, but it is far away, an' a wild road till't. I hae indeed an -auld aunt about twa miles frae this, but she's no muckle to lippen to, -unless it come frae her ain side o' the house; an' then she's a' hinny -and joe. If ye like I'll gang that length wi' ye, an' try if she'll put -ye up a while till we see how matters turn." - -Jane was now so much confused in her mind, that, not being able to form -any better measure for the present, she arose and followed her ragged -conductor, and they arrived at his aunt's house before sun-set. - -"My dear aunt," said Barnaby, "here is a very good an' a very helpless -lassie turned away frae her hame this same day, and has nae place to -gang to; if ye'll be sae good, an' sae kind, as to let her stay a while -wi' you, I will do ten times as muckle for you again some ither day." - -"My faith, stirra!" said she, setting up a face like a fire-brand, and -putting her arms a-kimbo--"My faith, man, but ye're soon begun to a braw -trade!--How can ye hae the assurance, ye brazen-faced rascal, to come -rinning to me wi' a hizzy an' bairn at your tail, an' desire me to keep -them for ye? I'll sooner see you an' her, an' that little limb, a' hung -up by the links o' the neck, than ony o' ye sal crook a hough or break -bread wi' me." - -"There's for't now! There's for't! When the deil gets in, the fire maun -flee out!--But aunt, I ken the first word's aye the warst wi' ye; ye're -never sae ill as ye say. Think like a Christian. How wad ye hae likit, -when ye war as young, to hae been turned out to the open hills wi' a -bairn in your arms?" - -"Hear to the tatterdemallion!--Christian! Bairn i' _my_ arms!--Ye -impudent, hempy-looking tike that ye are! Pack out o' my house, I say, -or I'll gar the bluid blind your een--ay, an' your bit toastit pie too, -wi' its piece barrell'd beef! Gang after your braw gallaunt, wi' your -oxterfu' ket!--A bonny pair, troth!--A light head makes a heavy fitt!" - -Barnaby retired with his back foremost, facing up his aunt all the way -till fairly in the open fields, for fear of actual violence; but the -epithets he bestowed on her there in the bitterness of his heart cannot -here be set down. Jane trembled, yet was obliged to smile at his -extravagance, for it had no bounds; while his aunt stood in her door, -exulting and calling after him every thing that she could construe to -mortify and provoke him. Tears for a space choked his utterance; at -length he forced out the following sentence in vollies. - -"Wae--wae be to the--the auld randy--witch!--Had I but the--owrance o' -the land for ae day--I--I should gar some look about them. My master -an' she hae this wark to answer for yet; they'll get their dichens for't -some day--that's ae comfort! Come away, Jeany--they'll squeel for -this--let them tak it!--Come away, Jeany." - -"Where would you have me to go now, Barnaby?" - -"Out-by aff that auld witch at ony rate! I'll hae ye put up though I -should travel a hunder mile." - -"Let me beseech you to return to your flock, and trouble yourself no -farther about my infant and I. Heaven will take care of us." - -"It disna look very like it just now. I dinna argy that it is wrang to -trust in Heaven--only, gin we dinna use the means, Heaven's no obliged -to work miracles for us. It is hard upon the gloamin', an' there is not -another house near us; if we sit down and trust, ye'll hae to sleep in -the fields, an' then baith you an' that dear bairn may get what ye will -never cast. Let us make a wee exertion the night, and I hae resolved -what ye shall do to-morrow." - -"And what shall I do to-morrow, Barnaby?" - -"Go with me to my parents; they hae nae doughter o' their ain, an' my -mither will be muckle the better o' your help, an' they will baith be -very glad to see you, Jeany. Gudeness be thankit! the warld's no just a' -alike. I' the meantime my pickle gimmers dinna need muckle at my hand -just now, sae I'll gae an' ax my master for a day to see my fock, and -gang fit for fit wi' ye the morn." - -She fixed her humid eyes on him in pleasing astonishment; she had never -before witnessed such earnest and disinterested benevolence; the -proposal was made in such a way that she could not refuse it, else she -saw that she would give a kind and feeling heart pain. "I have a great -mind to make trial of your expedient, good Barnaby," said she; "all -parts of the country are now alike to me; I must go somewhere; and as -it is but a hard day's journey, I will go and see the parents of so good -a lad." - -"Now that's spoken like yoursel, an' I'm glad to hear ye say't--But -what's to come o' ye the night?" - -"I have some victuals with me, and I can lie in the fields this pleasant -night; it is a good one to begin with, for who knows what's before one?" - -"I canna think o' that ava. If ye war to lay that bonny red cheek on the -cauld dew, an' the wind blawin' i' little George's face, there wad some -sleep nane the night; but there is a little snug sheep-house in our -Hope, a wee bit frae this; let us gang there, an' I will take little -George in my bosom, an' hap _you_ wi' my plaid.--O, but I forgot--that -will never do," continued he, in a melancholy tone, and looking at his -ragged doublet and riven clothes. Away, however, to the sheep-cot they -went, where they found plenty of old hay, and Jane instantly proposed -that he should go home and leave them alone, get leave of his master, -and join them next morning. - -"But I dinna ken about it," said Barnaby, hanging his head and looking -serious; "that linn's an unco uncanny place for bogles; an' by this time -o' night they'll be keeking ower the black haggs o' the Cairny Moss to -see what's gaun on. If ony o' them war to come on ye here, they might -terrify you out o' your wits, or carry ye baith aff, lith and limb--Is -the callant baptized?" - -Jane answered in the affirmative, smiling; and farther assured him, that -he needed to be under no apprehensions on account of spirits, for she -was perfectly at ease on that score, having a good assurance that no -spirit had power over her. - -"Ay, ye are maybe a gospel minister's bairn, or an auld Cameronian; that -is, I mean come o' the saints and martyrs--they had unco power--I hae -heard o' some o' them that fought the deil, hand to fist, for an hour -and forty minutes, and dang him at the last--yethered him and yerked him -till he couldna mou' another curse. But these times are gane! yet it's -no sae lang sin' auld Macmillan (ye hae heard o' auld Macmillan?) was -coming through that linn i' the derk wi' twa o' his elders an' they spak -o' the bogle, but Macmillan jeered at it; an' when they came to the tap -o' yon steep brae they stoppit to take their breath; and there they -heard a loud nichering voice come out o' the howe o' the linn, an' it -cried, - - "Ha, ha, Macky! had ye been your lane, - Ye should never hae crackit through either wood or water again." - -"Say ye sae, fause loun," quo' the auld hardy veteran; "than be at your -speed, for I'll gang through that wood my lane in spite o' your teeth, -an' a' hell at your back." An' what does the carl do, but leaves his twa -elders yonder, standin glowrin i' the howe night, an' trodges his way -back through the linn to the very farrest side o't--said the -hunder-an'-ninth psalm against him, an' came back wi' never a turned -hair on his head. But yet for a' that, Jeany, dinna lippen ower muckle -to bygane things; there have been fairy raids i' the Hope, an' mony ane -ill fleyed. I could tell ye sic a story of a wicked laird here!" - -Jane entreated him not to tell it that night, but amuse them with it -to-morrow as they journeyed. He was passive--left them his plaid--went -home and got leave of absence from his master for two days, but hinted -nothing of what had passed in the Hope. He was again back at the -sheep-house by the time the sun arose; and, early as it was, he found -Jane walking without, while little George was sleeping soundly on the -hay, wrapped in the plaid. She said she had got a sound and short sleep, -but awakening at dawn she had stepped out to taste the fresh mountain -air, and see the sun rise. When they lifted the child he was somewhat -fretful--a thing not customary with him; but he was soon pacified, and -they proceeded without delay on their journey. - -Until once they had cleared the boundaries of the farm of Todburn, -Barnaby was silent, and looked always around with a jealous eye, as if -dreading a surprise. When his fellow-traveller asked the reasons of his -anxiety, he remained silent; but as soon as they got fairly into the -next glen he became as gay and talkative as ever. She deemed it to be -some superstitious dread that discomposed him, but was left to guess the -cause. - -"Jeany," said he, "you said you had a short and sound sleep last -night--so had I. Pray, did you dream ony?" - -"Not that I remember of; but I put no faith in dreams." - -"Weel, how different fock's bodies, or their souls, or something about -them maun be frae ane anither! For I'm come this length in the warld, -an' I never yet dreamed a regular dream, in a sound sleep, that I didna -get as plainly read to me as the A B C. I had a strange dream last -night, Jeany, an' it was about you. I am sure I'll live to see it -fulfilled; but what it means even now, I canna in the least comprehend." - -"Well, Barnaby, suppose you give us it. I have read the Book of -Knowledge, and may lend you a hand at the interpretation." - -"I thought I saw ye lying in a lonesome place, an' no ane in the wide -world to help or heed ye, till there was a poor bit black mootit-like -corby came down frae the hills an' fed ye. I saw it feeding ye, an' I -thought ye war as contentit, an' as bonny, an' as happy as ever. But ere -ever I wist, down comes there a great majestic eagle some gate frae -about the e'e-bree o' the heavens, an' cleeks ye away up to the lowne -bieldy side o' a sunny hill, where ye had a' braw things. An' I dinna -ken how it was, I thought ye war a she eagle sitting amang your young, -an' I thought aye ye war a woman too, an' I coudna separate the tane -frae the tither; but the poor bit plottit forefoughen corby gaed alang -w'ye, an' ye war kind to him, an' fed him in your turn, an' I saw him -hoppin, an' pickin, an' dabbin round about ye, as happy as ever I saw a -beast, an' the erne didna chase him away, but was kind to him; but -somehow, or I wakened, I thought it was the confusedest thing I ever -saw. Na, ye needna laugh nor smile, for we'll baith live to see it -read." - -"Believe me, Barnaby, it will never be apparent; you may force -circumstances to agree with it, but these will not be obvious ones." - -"It's needless for me to arguy wi' you unless I can bring things hame to -your ain conscience; but can ye say that ye never got a dream read?" - -"Never that I noted; for I never thought of them." - -"Or, for instance, have ye never, when you saw a thing for the first -time, had a distinct recollection of having seen it sometime afore?" - -"Never." - -"How wonderfu'! I have done so a thousand an' a thousand times. I have -remembered of having seen exactly the same scene, the same faces, the -same looks, and heard the same words, though I knew all the while that I -never had seen them in reality; and that I could only have seen them in -some former vision, forgotten, or perhaps never remembered." - -She now saw clearly that dreams, visions, and apparitions, were -Barnaby's region of existence--His very thoughts and language seemed -elevated whenever he entered on the subject; and it being a trait in the -shepherd's character that she had never thought of before, she resolved -to encourage it, and asked for a single instance of that strange -foresight alluded to. - -"You'll surely acknowledge," said Barnaby, "that it is impossible I -could ever have come up that strait swire before with a bairn on my -back, an' a young woman gaun beside me exactly like you; an' that while -in that condition, I should have met wi' a bull an' a cow coming out the -path by themsels, an' thought o' yon craig for a shelter to the bairn -that I was carrying; yet when that happened about an hour ago, I -remembered so distinctly of having gone through it some time long -before, that I knew every step that would next be taken, and every -word that would next be said. It made me very thoughtful; but I can -remember nothing of where or when I dreamed it, or what was the issue. - -"There was another instance that I'll never forget. The winter afore -last, I gaed out wi' my father in the morning to help him to gather the -sheep; for the rime had sitten down, an' the clouds war creepin, and we -kend the drift wad be on. Weel, away we sets, but a' the hills were -wrappit i' the clouds o' rime as they had been rowed in a fleece o' -frosty woo, an' we couldna see a stime; we were little better than fock -gaun _graeping_ for sheep; an' about twal o'clock, (I mind it weel,) -just when I was in the very straitest and steepest part o' the -Shielbrae-Hope, the wind gae a swirl, an' I lookit up an' saw the cloud -screwing up to heaven--the brow o' the hill cleared, an' I saw like a -man cringing and hanging ower the point o' the rock, an' there was seven -white ewes an' a black ane gaun bleetin in a raw yont aneath him. That -was a'; but the sight strak me motionless. I mindit that I had seen the -very thing afore; the very clouds--the very rocks--an' the man standing -courin' and keekin' ower, wi' the white rime hingin' about his lugs like -feathers; an' I mindit that it endit ill--it endit awsomely!--for I -thought it endit in death. I could speak nae mair a' that day; for I -expectit that either my father or I wad never gang hame living. He aften -said to me, 'What ails ye, callant? Are ye weel eneugh? Od, ye're gane -stupid.' We saved some sheep, an' lost some, like mony ane, for it was -a dreadfu' afternoon; however, we wan baith safe hame. But that night, -afore we gaed to bed, our neighbour, auld Robin Armstrang, was brought -into our house a corp. Our fock had amaist gane out o' their judgment; -but the very features, the white rime frozen about the cauld stiff een, -an' the iceshogles hangin' at the grey hair, war nae new sight to me: I -had seen them a' before, I kendna when. Ah, Jeany! never tell me that we -haena some communication wi' intelligences, far ayont our capacity to -comprehend." - -The seriousness of Barnaby's manner made it evident to his fellow -traveller that he believed in the reality of every word he had said; -there was an inconceivable sublimity in the whole idea, and she fancied -herself going to reside, perhaps for a season, in the regions of -imagination and romance, and she asked him if his father and mother had -faith in dreams an' apparitions? - -"Aye, that they hae," answered he; "ye had need to tak care how ye -dispute the existence of fairies, brownies, and apparitions there; ye -may as weel dispute the gospel o' Sant Mathew. We dinna believe in a' -the gomral fantastic bogles an' spirits that fley light-headed fock up -an' down the country, but we believe in a' the apparitions that warn o' -death, that save life, an' that discover guilt. I'll tell you what we -believe, ye see. - -"The deil an' his adgents, they fash nane but the gude fock; the -Cameronians, an' the prayin' ministers, an' sic like. Then the bogles, -they are a better kind o' spirits, they meddle wi' nane but the guilty; -the murderer, an' the mansworn, an' the cheater o' the widow an' -fatherless, they do for _them_. Then the fairies, they're very harmless; -they're keener o' fun an' frolic than aught else; but if fock neglect -kirk ordinances, they see after _them_. Then the brownie, he's a kind -o' half-spirit half-man; he'll drudge an' do a' the wark about the town -for his meat, but then he'll no work but when he likes for a' the king's -dominions. That's precisely what we a' believe here awa', auld an' -young; an' I'll tell ye twa or three stories that we a' ken to be true, -an' which I wadna misbelieve for a' that I'm worth. - -"Sandy Shiel, the herd o' the Birky-Cleuch, was standing afore his sheep -ae fine day in winter. The snaw had been drifted ower the brae-head to -the size of another hill, but it was blawn bare aneath; an' there was -Sandy standin' i' the sun afore his sheep, whistling an' singing, and -knitting his stocking. Ere ever he wist there comes a broken-leggit hare -by his very foot--Every Scotsman's keen of a hunt--Sandy flings the -plaid frae him, an' after the hare what he can streik, hallooing, and -crying on his dog to kep. As he gaed o'er the brow he was close upon -her, an' had up his stick just to knock her dead--Tut! the hare -vanished in a moment! Sandy jumpit round-about an' round about--'What -the devil's come o' my hare now? Is she santit? or yirdit? or flown -awa'?'--Sandy lookit up into the air, but she wasna to be seen there -neither. She was gane, an' for ever! Sandy was amaist swarf'd, the cauld -sweat brak on him, an' he clew his head. 'Now, gude faith, I hae seen -muckle,' quo' Sandy, 'but the like o' that I saw never.' Sandy trodged -back, wantin' his hare, to lift his plaid. But what think ye? The hale -volume o' snaw on the hill aboon had shot away and burried it fifty feet -deep; it was nae mair seen till the month o' May. Sandy kneeled down -among the snaw and thankit his Maker; he saw brawly what the hare had -been. - -"I'll tell you another that I like still better. The shepherd's house at -Glen-Tress, in Tweeddale, had ance been a farm-steading, but it was at -the time this happened inhabited by an honest respectable shepherd, his -wife, and six children. One evening after the sun had set, the eldest -girl came running in, crying, 'Bless me, sirs, come here--Here is the -grandest lady coming to the house that ever was seen in the world.' They -all ran to the door, young and old, and they every one saw her coming at -the distance of only about twenty paces--She was never more seen! But -that very moment the house fell in, gable and all, with a dreadful -crash; and thus a worthy family was saved from momentary destruction. -Ah! I wadna hae given that man's feelings of gratitude that night toward -his Maker and Preserver, for a' the dogmas of a thousand cauld-heartit -philosophers!" - -"Nor would I," said Jane; and they walked on in deep silence. - -Barnaby always carried the child one-half of the way as nearly as they -could agree, but after carrying him often two miles, he would contend -that it was but one; they got plenty of bread and milk at the -farm-houses and cottages as they passed, for there was no house of -accommodation near the whole of their track. One time, after they had -refreshed and rested themselves, Jane reminded her conductor that he had -promised the evening before to entertain her on their journey with the -story of the profligate laird. - -"That's an awfu' story," said Barnaby, "but it is soon tauld. It was the -Laird o' Errickhaw; he that biggit his house amang the widow's corn, and -never had a day to do weel in it. It isna yet a full age sin' the -foundation-stane was laid, an' for a' the grandeur that was about it, -there's nae man at this day can tell where the foundation has been, if -he didna ken afore. He was married to a very proud precise lady, come o' -high kin, but they greed aye weel eneugh till bonny Molly Grieve came to -the house to serve. Molly was as light-hearted as a kid, an' as blithe -as a laverock, but she soon altered. She first grew serious, then sad, -and unco pale at times; an' they whiles came on her greetin by hersel. -It was ower weel seen how matters stood, an' there was nae mair peace -about the house. At length it was spread ower a' the parish that the -lady had gotten Molly a fine genteel service in Edinburgh, an' up comes -hurkle-backit Charley Johnston, the laird's auld companion in -wickedness, wi' a saddle an' a pad to take her away. When they set her -on ahint him, Molly shook hands wi' a' the servants, but couldna speak, -for she little kend when she would see them again. But, instead o' -taking her away i' the fair day-light, i' the ee o' God an' man, he took -her away just when the lave war gaun to their beds: an' instead o' -gaeing the road to Edinburgh, they war seen riding ower the Cacra-cross -at twal o'clock at night. Bonny Molly Grieve was never seen again, nor -heard of mair in this world! But there war some banes found about the -Alemoor Loch that the doctors said had belanged to a woman. There was -some yellow hair, too, on the scull, that was unco like Molly's, but -nae body could say. - -"Then there was a fine strapping lass came in her place, a farmer's -daughter, that had mony a lad running after her, but it wasna a year and -a half till a service was to provide in Edinburgh for her too. Up came -hurkle-backit Charley to take her away, but no gin they should a' hae -sutten down on their knees wad she gae wi' him; she grat an' pray'd, an' -they fleeched an' flait; but she stayed in the parish in spite o' their -teeth, and shamed them a'. She had a son, but Charley got him to take to -the nursing, far away some gate, an' there was nae body ony mair fashed -wi' him. - -"It wad be endless to tell ye ower a' their wickedness, for it can -hardly be believed. Charley had mony sic job to do, baith at hame and at -a distance. They grew baith odious in the country, for they turned aye -the langer the waur, and took less pains to hide it; till ae night that -the laird was walking at the back o' his garden, in the moon-light. It -was thought he was waiting for a woman he had some tryste with, but that -was conjecture, for he never said sae. At length he saw ane coming -towards him, and hasted to meet her, but just as he approached, she held -up her hand at him, as it war to check him, or make him note who she -was; and when he lookit in her face, and saw what it was like, he -uttered a loud cry, and fell senseless on the ground. Some fock heard -the noise, and ran to the place, and fand him lying streekit in a deep -dry seuch at the back of the garden. They carried him in, and he soon -came to himself; but after that he was never like the same man, but -rather like ane dementit. He durst never mair sleep by himsel while he -lived; but that wasna lang, for he took to drinking, and drank, and -swore, and blasphemed, and said dreadfu' things that folk didna -understand. At length, he drank sae muckle ae night out o' desperation, -that the blue lowe came burning out at his mouth, and he died on his -ain hearth-stane, at a time o' life when he should scarcely have been at -his prime. - -"But it wasna sae wi' Charley! He wore out a lang and hardened life; -and, at the last, when death came, he coudna die. For a day and two -nights they watched him, thinking every moment would be the last, but -always a few minutes after the breath had left his lips, the feeble -cries of infants arose from behind the bed, and wakened him up again. -The family were horrified; but his sons and daughters were men and -women, and for their ain sakes they durstna let ane come to hear his -confessions. At last, on the third day at two in the morning, he died -clean away. They watched an hour in great dread, and then streekit him, -and put the dead-claes on him, but they hadna weel done before there -were cries, as if a woman had been drowning, came from behind the bed, -and the voice cried, "O, Charley, spare my life!--Spare my life! For -your own soul's sake and mine, spare my life!" On which the corpse again -sat up in the bed, pawled wi' its hands, and stared round wi' its dead -face. The family could stand it nae langer, but fled the house, and rade -and ran for ministers, but before any of them got there, Charley was -gane. They sought a' the house, and in behind the bed, and could find -naething; but that same day he was found about a mile frae his ain -house, up in the howe o' the Baileylee-linn, a' torn limb frae limb, an' -the dead-claes beside him. There war twa corbies seen flying o'er the -muir that day, carrying something atween them, an' fock suspectit it was -Charley's soul, for it was heard makin' a loud maen as they flew o'er -Alemoor. At the same time it was reportit, that there was to be seen -every morning at two a clock, a naked woman torfelling on the Alemoor -loch, wi' her hands tied behind her back, and a heavy stane at her neck. -It's an awsome story. I never dare tell it but in the middle o' the day, -and even then it gars a' my flesh creep; but the hale country has heard -it, and God only kens whether it be true or no. It has been a warning to -mony ane." - -Our fair wanderer asked for no more ghost stories. The last had sufficed -her,--it having been even more shocking than the former ones were -delightful; so they travelled on, conversing about common or casual -events, save that she gave him a short sketch of her history, whereof to -inform his parents, with strong injunctions of secrecy. They came in -view of his father's cottage before sunset. It was situated in the very -wildest and most romantic glen in the shire of Peebles, at the -confluence of two rough but clear mountain streams, that ran one on each -side of the house and _kail-yard_, and mingled their waters immediately -below these. The valley was level, green, and beautiful, but the hills -on each side high, steep, and romantic; and while they cast their long -black shadows aslant the glen, the beams of the sun were shed over these -like streamers in the middle air. It was a scene of tranquillity and -repose, if not indeed the abode of the genii and fairies. Jane's heart -danced within her when her eye turned to the varied scenery of the -mountains, but again sunk when it fell on the cottage at which she was -going to seek a retreat. She dreaded her reception, knowing how -equivocal her appearance there must be; but she longed and thirsted for -such a retreat, and as she was not destitute of money, she determined to -proffer more for her board than she could well afford to pay, rather -than be refused. Barnaby also spoke less as they advanced up the glen, -and seemed struggling with a kind of dryness about his tongue, which -would not suffer him to pronounce the words aright. Two fine shaggy -healthy-looking collies came barking down the glen to meet them, and at -a timid distance behind them, a half-grown puppy, making more noise than -them both. He was at one time coming brattling forward, and barking -fiercely, as if going to attack them, and at another, running yelping -away from them with his tail between his legs. Little George laughed as -he had been tickled at him. When the dogs came near, and saw that it was -their old fire-side acquaintance and friend, they coured at his feet, -and whimpered for joy; they even licked his fair companion's hand, and -capered around her, as if glad to see any friend of Barnaby's. The -whelp, perceiving that matters were amicably made up, likewise ventured -near; and though he had never seen any of them before, claimed -acquaintance with all, and was so kind and officious that he wist not -what to do; but at last he fell on the expedient of bearing up the -corner of Jane's mantle in his mouth, which he did all the way to the -house.--George was perfectly delighted. - -"I think," said Jane, "the kindness of these creatures betokens a hearty -welcome within!" - -"Ay, that it does," answered Barnaby; "a dog that is brought up with a -man in a wild place, is always of the very same disposition with -himself." - -Strangers seldom approached that sequestered spot--passengers never. -They observed, while yet at a good distance, Barnaby's mother standing -amid her burly boys at the end of the cottage, watching their approach, -and they heard her calling distinctly to her husband, "Aigh! Geordie, -yon's our ain Barny, I ken by auld Help's motions; but wha she is that -he's bringing wi' him, is ayont my comprehension." - -She hurried away in to put her fire-side in some order, and nought was -then to be seen but two or three bare-headed boys, with their hair the -colour of peat-ashes, setting their heads always now and then by the -corner of the house, and vanishing again in a twinkling. The old -shepherd was sitting on his divot-seat, without the door, mending a -shoe. Barnaby strode up to him. "How are ye the night, father?" - -"No that ill, Barny lad--is that you? How are ye yoursel?" said a -decent-looking middle-aged man, scratching his head at the same time -with the awl, and fixing his eyes, not on his son, but the companion -that he had brought with him. When he saw her so young, so beautiful, -and the child in her arms, the enquiring look that he cast on his son -was unutterable. Silence reigned for the space of a minute. Barnaby -made holes in the ground with his staff--the old shepherd began again to -sew his shoe, and little George prattled to his mamma, "It's a vely good -bonny halp, mamma; Geoge nevel saw sic a good halp." - -"An' how hae ye been sin' we saw ye, Barny?" - -"Gaylys!" - -"I think ye hae brought twa young strangers wi' ye?" - -"I wat have I." - -"Whar fell ye in wi' them?" - -"I want to speak a word to you, father." - -The old shepherd flung down his work, and followed his son round the -corner of the house. It was not two minutes till he came back. Jane had -sat down on the sod-seat. - -"This is a pleasant evening," said he, addressing her. - -"It is a very sweet evening," was the reply. - -"Ye'll be weary; ye had better _gang in_ an' rest ye." - -She thanked him, and was preparing to go. - -"It's a muckle matter," continued he, "whan fock can depend on their -ain. My Barny never deceived me a' his life, an' you are as welcome here -as heart can mak ye. The flower in May is nae welcomer than ye are to -this bit shieling, and your share of a' that's in it. Come your ways in, -my bonny woman, an' think nae shame. Ye shall never be lookit on as -either a beggar or borrower here, but just ane o' oursels." So saying he -took her hand in both his, and led her into the house. - -"Wife, here's a young stranger our son has brought to bide a while wi' -ye; mak her welcome i' the mean time, an' ye'll be better acquaintit by -and by." - -"In troth I sal e'en do sae. Come awa in by to the muckle chair--Whar is -he himsel, the muckle duddy feltered gouk?" - -"Ah, he's coming, poor fellow--he's takin a _pipe_ to himsel at the -house-end--there's a shower i' the heads wi' Barny--his heart can stand -naething--it is as saft as a snaw-ba', an' far mair easily thawed, but -it is aye in the right place for a' that." - -It was a happy evening; the conversation was interesting, and kept up -till a late hour; and when the old couple learned from Jane of the -benevolent disinterested part that their son had acted, their eyes -glowed with delight, and their hearts waxed kinder and kinder. Before -they retired to rest, the old shepherd performed family worship, with a -glow of devotional warmth which Jane had never before witnessed in man. -The psalm that he sung, the portion of Scripture that he read, and the -prayer that he addressed to the throne of Grace, savoured all of charity -and benevolence to our fellow-creatures. The whole economy of the family -was of that simple and primitive cast, that the dwellers in a large city -never dream of as existing. There was to be seen contentment without -affluence or ambition, benevolence without ostentation, and piety -without hypocrisy; but at the same time such a mixture of gaiety, good -sense, and superstitious ideas, blent together in the same minds, as was -altogether inscrutable. It was a new state of existence to our fair -stranger, and she resolved with avidity to improve it to the best -advantage. - -But we must now leave her in her new habitation, and return with Barnaby -to the families of Earlhall and Todburn. Lindsey went up the water every -day fishing, as he had done formerly, but was astonished at observing, -from day to day, that his fair Wool-gatherer's cottage was locked, and -no smoke issuing from it. At first he imagined that she might have gone -on a visit, but at length began to suspect that some alteration had -taken place in her circumstances; and the anxiety that he felt to have -some intelligence, whether that change was favourable or the reverse, -was such that he himself wondered at it. He could not account for it -even to his own mind. It was certainly _the child_ that so much -interested him, else he _could not_ account for it. Lindsey might -easily have solved the difficulty had he acquiesced freely in the -sentiments of his own heart, and acknowledged to himself that he was in -love. But no!--all his reasoning, as he threw the line across the stream -and brought it back again, went to disprove that. "That I can be in love -with the girl is out of the question--there is no danger of such an -event; for, in the first place, I would not wrong her, or abuse her -affections, for the whole world; and in the next, I have a certain rank -and estimation to uphold in society. I am a proprietor to a large -extent--a freeholder of the county--come of a good family, at least by -the father's side, and that I should fall in love with and marry a poor -vagrant Wool-gatherer, with a"----! He was going to pronounce a word, -but it stuck, not in his throat, but in the very utmost perceptible -avenues that lead to the heart. "It is a very fine child, however,--I -wish I had him under my protection, then his mother might come and see -him; but I care not for that, provided I had the child. I'll have the -child, and for that purpose I will enquire after the mother directly." - -He went boldly up to the cot, and peeped in at the little window. The -hearth was cold, and the furniture neatly arranged. He examined the -door, but the step and threshold had not been swept as they wont for -many days, and the green grass was beginning to peep up around them. -"There is something extremely melancholy in this!" said he to himself. -"I could not endure the veriest wretch on my estate to be thus lost, -without at least enquiring after him." - -He turned his eyes to the other cottages, and to the farm-house, but -lacked the courage to go boldly up to any of them, and ask after the -object of his thoughts. He returned to the fishing, but caught no fish, -or if he did it was against his will. - -On Barnaby's return he made some sly enquiries about the causes that -induced to Jane's removal without effect, the farmer had kept all so -snug. But haverel Meg, (as they called her for a nick-name,) his sister, -knew, and though she was an excellent keeper of secrets among her own -sex, yet she could not help blabbing them sometimes to the young -fellows, which her brother always accounted a very ridiculous -propensity;--whether or not it is a natural one among old maids, the -relater of this tale does not pretend to decide; he is induced to think -it is, but is not dogmatic on that side, not having bestowed due -consideration on the subject. - -One day, when Barnaby came home to his breakfast rather later than -usual, and while he was sitting hewing away at a good stiff bicker of -paritch, mixed with butter-milk, his excellent dog Nimrod all the time -sitting with his head leaned on his master's knee, watching the progress -of every spoonful, thinking the latter was rather going near him that -day in their wonted proportions--while Barnaby, I say, was thus -delightfully and busily employed, in comes Meg, bare-footed, with a -clean white wrapper and round-eared cap on. "Barny, will ye hae time to -help me to the water wi' a boucking o' claes? Ye'll just only hae to -carry the tae end o' the hand-barrow to the water, wait till I sinde up -the sarks, an' help me hame wi' them again." - -"That I will, Miss Peggy, wi' heart an' hand." - -"Miss Peggy! Snuffs o' tobacco! Meg's good enough! Troth, I'm nane o' -your molloping, precise flegaries, that want to be _miss'd_ an' -_beckit_, an' _bowed_ to--Na, sooth! Meg's good enough--plain downright -_Meg o' the Todburn_." - -"Weel, weel; haud your tongue, I'll do a' that ye bid me, an' mair, Meg, -my bonny woman." - -"How war a' your focks, Barny, when ye war ower seeing them?" - -"Unco weel, an' they're muckle behadden to you for your kind speering." - -"I kend your father weel; he's a good cannie man." - -"I wish he had beltit your shoulders as aft as he has done mine, ye -maybe wadna hae said sae muckle for him." - -"Ay, it's weel o' you to say sae; but he's a douse, respectable man, and -he's no disgraced in his son." - -Barnaby rose with his bicker in his hand; gave it a graceful swing, as a -gentleman does his hat when he meets a lady, made a low bow, and set -down Nimrod his share of the paritch. - -When they went to the river Barnaby sat him down on the bank, and Meg -went into the running stream, and began with great agility, and much -splashing, to wash up her clothes. Barnaby perceived her smiling to -herself, and was sure that a volley of some stuff or other was -forthcoming. She cast her eyes towards the laird's house, then looked up -the water, then down, in case any one might be angling on it; and after -perceiving that there was nobody within a mile of them, she spoke as -follows to Barnaby, in a half whisper, lest any one should overhear her. - -"Gude sauf us to the day, Barny man! What think ye o' our laird?" - -"Very muckle. I think him a decent worthy lad." - -"Decent! Shame fa' _his_ decency!--I watna what will be countit -_un_decent soon! Sae ye haena heard o' his shamfu' connection wi' the -bit prodigal, dinnagood lassie, that was here?" - -"Never." - -"It's a' ower true though; but say nae a word about it. My billy Rob was -obliged to chase her out o' the country for it; an' a burnin shame an' a -disgrace it was to the laird to take up wi' the likes o' her.--Deil a -bit o' her has the pith o' a pipe-stapple!--Fich, fy! Away wi' your -spindle-shankit babyclouts--they're no the gear." - -"As ye say, Meg. I like nane o' the women that _stand pon trifles_." - -"Stand on trifles!--Ha! ha! that's real good! that's devilish clever for -a--young man! Ha! ha!--Tut! that water's weetin' a' my claes.--Wad ye -hae made sic a choice, Barny?" - -"D'ye think that I'm blind? or that I dinna ken what's what?--Na, na, -Meg! let me alane; I'm no sae young a cat but I ken a mouse by a -feather." - -"If a' our young men had the sense o' you, Barny, some o' them might get -a pock an' a wheen rustit nails to jingle in't; they might get something -better than a bit painted doll, wi' a waist like a thread-paper, an' hae -nought ado foreby but to draw in the chair an' sit down; but _they'll_ -rin after a wheen clay-cakes baken i' the sun, an' leave the good -substantial ait-meal bannocks to stand till they moul, or be pouched by -them that draff an' bran wad better hae mensed!--Tut! I'm ower deep into -the stream again, without ever thinkin' o't." - -"That's a' ower true that ye hae been sayin', Meg--ower true, indeed! -But as to your news about the laird and Jane, I dinna believe a word -o't." - -"Oh! it's maybe no true, ye ken! It's very likely a lee! There's -naething mair likely, than that a' their correspondence was as pure as -the morning snaw. For a laird, ye ken, worth three thousand pund o' -yearly rental, to frequent the house o' a bit lassie for an hour ilka -day, an' maybe ilka night to, wha kens; ye ken it's a' fair! there's -nought mair likely than that they're _very_ innocent! An' _sic_ a ane -too as she is! little better, I trow, than she should be, gin a' war -kend. To be sure she has a son, _that_ may arguy _something_ for her -decency. But after a', I dinna blame _her_, for I ken by mysel----" - -"Haud your tongue now, Meg, my bonny quean; for I ken ye are gaun to lee -on yoursel, an' speak nonsense into the bargain." - -"Ah! Barny! but ye are a queer ane!" (then in a whisper.) "I -say--Barny--What do ye think o' the bit farm o' Hesperslack? How wad ye -like to be tenant there yoursel, an' hae servants o' your ain?" - -"I haena thought about that yet; but yonder's my master keekin ower the -knowe; he'll be thinkin I'm stayin unco lang frae my sheep." - -"Ah! is my billy Rob yonder?--No a _word_ ye ken now, Barny. No a cheip -aboon your breath about yon." - -Sad and heavy were Barnaby's reflections that day as he herded his sheep -all alone. "And _this_ is the girl that I have taken and recommended so -warmly to my parents! I do not believe the hateful slander; but I will -go and inform them of all. It is proper they should know all that I -know, and then let them judge for themselves. Poor luckless Jeany! I -fear she is a ruined creature, be she as innocent and harmless as she -will!" - -Barnaby was resolved to go, but day past on after day, and still he had -not the heart to go and tell his parents, although every whisper that -he heard tended rather to strengthen suspicion than dispel it. - -On the very day that we left Lindsey in such distress for the loss of -his amiable Wool-gatherer, Barnaby and he met by the side of the stream, -at the foot of the Todburn-Hope. They were both alike anxious to speak -to one another, but neither of them had the courage to begin, although -both were burning to talk on the same theme. Lindsey fished away, -swimming the fly across the ripple as dexterously and provokingly as he -was able. Barnaby stood and looked on in silence; at length a yellowfin -rose. "Aigh, that was a great chap! I wish your honour had hookit that -ane." - -"It was better for him that I did not. Do you ever fish any?" - -"O yes. I gump them whiles." - -"_Gump_ them? pray what mode of fishing is that?" - -"I guddle them in aneath the stanes an' the braes like." - -"I do not exactly understand the terms nor the process. Pray will you -be so good," continued he, holding out the fishing-rod to Barnaby, "as -give me a specimen how you _gump_ the fish?" - -"Od bless you, sir, I can do naething wi' that goad; but if ye'll gang -wi' me a wee piece up the Todburn-Hope, or up to the Rowntree-Linn, I'll -let ye see gumping to perfection." - -On being assured that it was not above half a mile to either of the -places, the laird accompanied Barnaby without hesitation, to witness -this pastoral way of fishing. By the way their converse became very -interesting to both parties, but we cannot interrupt the description of -such a favourite rural sport just now. Let it suffice that their -discourse was all concerning a fair unfortunate, of whom the reader has -heard a good deal already, and of whom he shall hear more in due time. - -They crossed over a sloping ground, at the bottom of a green steep hill, -and soon came into the Todburn-Hope. It was a narrow level valley -between two high hills, and terminated in the haunted linn, above the -sheep-house formerly mentioned. Down this narrow vale the Tod Burn ran -with a thousand beautiful serpentine windings, and at every one of these -turns there were one or two clear deep pools, overhung by little green -banks. Into the first of these pools Barnaby got with his staff, -plunging and poaching to make all the fish take into close cover; then -he threw off his ragged coat, tucked up the sleeves of his shirt to the -shoulders, tying them together behind, and into the pool he got again, -knees and elbows, putting his arms in below the green banks, into the -closest and most secret recesses of the trouts. There was no eluding -him; he threw them out one after another, sometimes hitting the -astonished laird on the face, or any other part of the body without -ceremony, for his head being down sometimes close with the water, and -sometimes below it, he did not see where he flung them. The trouts being -a little startled at this momentary change from one element to another, -jumped about on the grass, and cast so many acute somersets, that the -laird had greater difficulty in getting hold of them the second time to -put them into his basket, than Barnaby had at first; and when the latter -had changed the scene of plunder to a new pool, Lindsey was commonly to -be seen beside the old one, moving slowly about on his hands and knees. -"I think ye're pinched to catch them on the dry grund, sir," said -Barnaby to him. - -"No, no," returned he, with the utmost simplicity; "but I was looking -lest some of them had made their way among the long grass and eluded me; -and besides they are so very active and slippery that I seldom can keep -the hold of them that I get." - -As they were going from one of these little pools to another, he said to -our shepherd, "So this is what you call _gumping_?" - -"Yes, sir, this is gumping, or _guddling_, ony o' them ye like to -ca't." - -"I do not think this is altogether a fair way of fishing." - -"Now, I think it is muckle fairer than the tither way, sir. Your way is -founded on the lowest artifice and deceit, but I come as an avowed -enemy, and let them escape me if they can. I come into a family as a -brave mountain robber or free-booter; but you come as a deceitful -friend, promising to treat the family with all good things, that you may -poison them every one unawares. A mountaineer's sports are never founded -on cunning; it's a' sheer and main force wi' us." - -Lindsey confessed that the shepherd's arguments had some foundation in -nature and truth, but that they savoured of a period exempt from -civilization and the fine arts. "At all events," said he, "it is -certainly the most downright way of fishing that I ever beheld." In -short, it was not long till the laird was to be seen wading in the -pools, and _gumping_ as busily as the other; and, finally, he was -sometimes so intent on his prey, that the water was running over his -back, so that when he raised himself up it poured in torrents from his -fine Holland shirt and stained cambrick ruffles. "Ye hae settled the -pletts o' your sark," said Barnaby. Never did the family of Earlhall -behold such a basket of trouts; and never had its proprietor such a -day's sport at the fishing, as he had at the _gumping_ or _guddling_ the -trouts among the links of the Todburn-Hope. - -Though the sport occupied their minds completely during the time they -were engaged in it, yet it was only a relaxation from concerns of a more -serious nature. From Barnaby's information the laird now saw exactly how -the land lay; and though he got no hint of the part that his mother had -acted in it, yet he rather suspected, for he well knew her sentiments -regarding all the young and beautiful part of her own sex. Barnaby gave -him no notice that he had ever seen the girl after her dismissal, or -that he knew to what part of the world she had retired; and before they -parted he desired him to tell his master to come down and speak with him -that night. - -Robin came as appointed; Lindsey and his mother were sitting by -themselves in the parlour when the servant announced him; he was ordered -to join them, and as soon as he came in Lindsey said, "Come away, Robin. -I had a piece of information within these few days of you, that has -somewhat distressed me, and I sent for you to make enquiry concerning -it. What reasons had you for turning away the poor stranger girl and -child from her cot before the term of your agreement expired?" - -Robin looked to the window, then to the lady, and then to the window -again, and finally looked down to the carpet, twirled his bonnet with -both hands, and remained silent. Though a strong and speaking look of -appeal was turned on the old lady by Robin from time to time, yet she, -hearing her son speak in that determined manner, likewise sat still -without opening her lips. - -"Why don't you answer me?" continued Lindsey. "I ask you simply what -were your reasons for turning her away? you certainly must be able to -state them." - -"Hem! We war feared, sir--we war feared that she was a bad ane." - -"You were _afraid_ she was bad? Had you no other proofs of her badness -farther than your own fears?" - -"Indeed, sir, I never saw ony ill behaviour about the lassie. But ye ken -weel enough that ane wha had forsaken the paths o' virtue and honesty -sae early as it appears she had done, wi' sic an enchanting manner, an' -weelfaurd face into the boot, was rather a dangerous neighbour for sae -mony young chiels." - -"I think what Robin says is very true, and good sense," said the old -lady. - -"You certainly ought to have taken all these things into consideration -before you bargained with her at first, Robin," said Lindsey. "I -suppose you cannot argue that she is either grown younger or more -beautiful since that period? I rather suspect, Robin, that you have used -this young woman extremely ill; and if you cannot give any better -reasons for your severity towards her, I can find out a method of -forcing you to make an ample retribution." - -"Indeed then, sir, sin' I maun tell the truth, I will tell the truth; it -was my lady, your worthy mother there, that persuaded, and _ordered_ me -to turn her away; for we had observed how great a favourite she was with -you, and dreaded the consequences." - -"It is then exactly as I suspected. You two have done me a great injury, -and one that will not be easily wiped away. I hope neither of you -intended it; but I would gladly know what trait in my character -justified the conclusion you made? I think you might both have known my -dispositions better than to have so readily believed that I would -injure youth and beauty, that had already been unfortunate in the -world--that I would add to her state of wretchedness, by annihilating -for ever that innate principle of virtue and modesty, inherent in every -young female's breast, which never man loved more, or delighted more to -view, exerting all its primitive and untainted sway. If you had -reflected at all, you could not have believed me capable of it. You have -taken the readiest means in your power of injuring my character in the -eyes of the world. It must naturally be concluded, that there was a -profligate and criminal intercourse subsisting between us, which -rendered such an act of cruelty and injustice necessary. You have hurt -my honour and my feelings, and wronged a defenceless and amiable young -woman. It is on my account that she is thus innocently suffering, and I -am determined, for my own satisfaction, to see her righted, as far as -redress is in my power, though equivalent for an injured reputation -there is none; but every vile insinuation on my account shall be fairly -dispelled. To make, therefore, an end of all reflections at once, I warn -you, Robin, that if she is not found, and restored to her rights, in -less than a fortnight at farthest, you need not be surprised if _you_ -are some day removed on as short notice as you gave to her." - -The old lady and farmer had an inward view of matters in a different -light: They perceived that the world would say he had brought her back -to keep her there as his mistress, but this elegant and inflated -harangue they were unable to answer. The young man's conscience was -hurt, and they were no casuists. The lady, it is true, uttered some -involuntary sounds as he was speaking, but it was not easy to determine -whether they were groans or hems of approbation. If one might have -judged from her countenance, they were like the former, but the sounds -themselves were certainly modulations of the latter. She was dependant -on her son! Robin was studying a friendly reply, by way of remonstrance, -all the time of the speech; but Robin was a widower, had a good farm, a -large family, and was a tenant at will, and the conclusion of the said -speech was a stumbling-block to Robin. - -Pray, gentle reader, did you ever see a country maiden baking pease-meal -bannocks? If you ever did you must have noted, that before she committed -them one by one to the gridiron, she always stood straight up, with her -head gracefully turned to one side, and moulded them with her two hands -to an orb, as nearly resembling the full moon as she could. You must -likewise have remarked, that while engaged in this becoming part of her -avocation, she was never once looking at her work, but that while her -head had that sly cast to the one side, her eyes were ever and anon -fixed on the window, noting what was going on without, looking perhaps -for her lad coming from the hill, or whistling at the plough. If you -have ever seen this, you can easily comprehend the attitude I mean--if -you have never, it is a great pity! - -Exactly in such a situation stood our honest farmer, Robin Muckerland, -plying his bonnet round with both hands in the same way--his head was -likewise turned to one side, and his eyes immoveably fixed on the -window--it was the girl's position to a hair. Let any man take his pen -and describe the two attitudes, there is not the slightest shade of -difference to be discerned--the one knee of both is even slackened and -bent gently forward, the other upright and firm, by its own weight made -steadfast and immoveable. Yet how it comes I do not comprehend, and -should like much to consult my friend, David Wilkie, about it--it is -plain that the attitudes are precisely the same, yet the girl's is quite -delightful--Robin's was perfectly pitiable. He had not one word to say, -but baked his bonnet and stood thus. - -"This is my determination," continued Lindsey, "and you may pay what -attention to it you please." - -"Od, sir, I'm excessively vexed at what has happened, now when ye hae -letten me see it in its true light, an' I sal do what I can to find her -again, an' mak her what amends I am able. But, od ye see, naebody kens -where she's ye see. She may be gane into the wild Highlands, or away to -that outlandish country ayont the sea that they ca' Fife, an' how am I -to get her? therefore, if I canna an' dinna get her, I hope you will -excuse me, especially as neither the contrivance nor the act was mine." - -"You and my honoured mother settle that betwixt you. I will not abate a -tittle of that I have said; but, to encourage your people in the search, -or whomsoever you are pleased to employ, I shall give ten guineas to the -person who finds her and restores her to her home." - -"Aweel, son Lindsey," said the lady, moving her head like the pendulum -of a clock, "your mother meant ye good, an' nae ill, in what she has -done; but them that will to Cupar maun to Cupar. For the sake o' Robin -and his family, and no for the neighbourhood o' this whilly-wha of a -young witch, I shall gi'e the body that finds her half as muckle." - -"And I," said Robin, "shall gi'e the same, which will make up the reward -to twenty guineas, an' it is mair than I can weel spare in sic hard -times. I never saw better come o' women's schemes, as I say whiles to my -titty Meg." - -The company parted, not on the most social terms; and that night, before -Robin dismissed his servants to their beds, he said, "Lads, my master -informs me that I am to be plaguit wi' the law for putting away that -lassie Jeany an' her bit brat atween term-days. I gi'e ye a' your -liberty frae my wark until the end o' neist week, if she be not found -afore that time, to search for her; and whoever finds her, and brings -her back to her cottage, shall have a reward o' twenty guineas in his -loof." - -A long conversation then ensued on the best means of recovering her; but -Barnaby did not wait on this, but hasted away to the stable loft, where -his chest stood at the head of his bed, dressed himself in his Sunday -clothes, and went without delay to the nearest stage where horses were -let out for hire, got an old brown hack equipped with a bridle, saddle, -and pad, and off he set directly for his father's cottage, where he -arrived next morning by the time the sun was up. - -To describe all Barnaby's adventures that night would take a volume by -itself, for it was the very country of the ghosts and fairies that he -traversed. As his errand was, however, solely for good, he was afraid -for none of them meddling with him, save the devil and the water-kelpie; -yet so hardly was he beset with these at times, that he had no other -resource but to shut his eyes close, and push on his horse. He by this -resolute contrivance got on without interruption, but had been so near -his infernal adversaries at times, that twice or thrice he felt a glow -on his face as if a breath of lukewarm air had been breathed against it, -and a smell exactly resembling (he did not like to say brimstone, but) -_a coal fire just gaun out_!--But it is truly wonderful what a man, with -a conscience void of offence towards God and towards his neighbour, will -go through! - -When the day-light began to spring up behind the hills of Glenrath, what -a blithe and grateful man was Barnaby! "The bogles will be obliged to -thraw aff their black claes now," said he, "an' in less than half an -hour the red an' the green anes too. They'll hae to pit on their -pollonians o' the pale colour o' the fair day-light, that the e'e o' -Christian maunna see them; or gang away an' sleep in their dew-cups an' -foxter-leaves till the gloaming come again. O, but the things o' this -warld are weel contrived!" - -Safely did he reach the glen, at the head of which his father's cottage -stood, with its little kail-yard in the forkings of the burn; there was -no dog, nor even little noisy pup, came out to give note of his -approach, for his father and canine friends had all gone out to the -heights at a very early hour to look after the sheep. The morning was -calm and lovely; but there was no sound in the glen save the voice of -his mother's grey cock, who was perched on the kail-yard dike, and -crowing incessantly. The echoes were answering him distinctly from the -hills; and as these aerial opponents were the only ones he ever in his -life had to contend with, he had learned to value himself extremely on -his courage, and was clapping his wings, and braving them in a note -louder and louder. Barnaby laughed at him, although he himself had been -struggling with beings as unreal and visionary during the whole night; -so ready we are to see the follies of others, yet all the while to -overlook our own! - -The smoke was issuing from his mother's chimney in a tall blue spire -that reached to the middle of the hill; but when there, it spread -itself into a soft hazy cloud, and was resting on the side of the green -brae in the most still and moveless position. The rising sun kissed it -with his beams, which gave it a light woolly appearance, something like -floating down; it was so like a vision that Barnaby durst scarcely look -at it. "My mither's asteer," said he to himself, "I ken by her morning -reek; she'll be fiking up an' down the house, an' putting a' things to -rights; an' my billies they'll be lying grumphing and snoring i' their -dens, an' Jeany will be lying waking, listening what's gaun on, an' wee -George will be sniffing an' sleeping sound in her bosom. Now I think, of -a' things i' the warld a young mother an' her first son is the maist -interesting--if she has been unfortunate it is ten times mair sae--to -see how she'll sit an' look at him!--(here Barnaby blew his nose.)--I -was my mother's first son; if she had been as bonny, an' as gentle, an' -as feele as Jeany, aih! but I wad hae likit weel!" - -No one being aware of Barnaby's approach, he rode briskly up to the door -and rapped, causing at the same time his horse's feet make a terrible -clamping on the stones. His mother, who had been sweeping the house, -came running out with the heather besom in her hand. "Bless my heart, -callant, is that you? Sic a gliff as I hae gotten w'ye! What's asteer -w'ye? or whar ir ye gaun sae early i' the morning on that grand -cut-luggit beast?" - -"I'm turned a gentleman now, mother, that's a'; an' I thought I wad g'ye -a ca' as I gaed by for auld lang syne--Hope ye're all well?" - -"Deed we're a' no that ill. But, dear Barny, what ir ye after?--Hae ye -a' your senses about ye?" - -"I thank ye, I dinna miss ony o' them that I notice. I'm come for my -wife that I left w'ye--How is she?" - -"_Your_ wife! Weel I wat ye'll never get the like o' her, great muckle -hallanshaker-like guff." - -"Haud your tongue now, mother, ye dinna ken wha I may get; but I can -tell ye o' something that I'm to get. If I take hame that lassie Jeany -safe to her house, ony time these ten days, there's naebody kens where I -hae her hidden, an' I'm to get twenty guineas in my loof for doing o't." - -"Ay, I tauld ye sae, my dear bairn." - -"Ye never tauld me sic a word, mother." - -"I hae tauld ye oft, that ae good turn never misses to meet wi' another, -an' that the king may come i' the beggar's way." - -"Ramsay's Scots Proverbs tell me that." - -"It will begin a bit stock to you, my man; an' I sal say it o' her, gin -I sude never see her face again, she's the best creature, ae way an' a' -ways, that ever was about a poor body's house. Ah, God bless her!--she's -a dear creature!--Ye'll never hae cause to rue, my man, the pains ye hae -ta'en about her." - -Jane was very happy at meeting with her romantic and kind-hearted -Barnaby again, who told her such a turn as affairs had taken in her -favour, and all that the laird had said to him about her, and the -earnest enquiries he had made; and likewise how he had put Robin to his -shifts. She had lived very happy with these poor honest people, and had -no mind to leave them; indeed, from the day that she entered their house -she had not harboured a thought of it; but now, on account of her -furniture, which was of considerable value to her, and more particularly -for the sake of Barnaby's reward, she judged it best to accompany him. -So after they had all taken a hearty breakfast together at the same -board, the old shepherd returned thanks to the Bestower of all good -things, and then kissing Jane, he lifted her on the horse behind his -son. "Now fare-ye-weel, Jeany woman," said he; "I think you will be -happy, for I'm sure you deserve to be sae. If ye continue to mind the -thing that's good, there is Ane wha will never forsake ye; I come surety -for him. An' if ever adversity should again fa' to your lot, ye shall be -as welcome to our bit house as ever, and to your share o' ilka thing -that's in it; an' if I should see you nae mair, I'll never bow my knee -before my Maker without remembering you. God bless you, my bonny woman! -Fareweel." - -Jane dropped a tear on her benefactor's hand, for who could stand such -unaffected goodness? Barnaby, who had folded his plaid and held little -George on it before him, turned his face towards the other side of the -horse, and contracted it into a shape and contortion that is not often -seen, every feature being lengthened extremely the cross way; but after -blowing his nose two or three times he recovered the use of his rod, -with which he instantly began a thrashing his nag, that he might get out -of this flood of tenderness and leave-taking. It is not easy to conceive -a more happy man than he was that day, he was so proud of his parents' -kindness to Jane, and of the good he thought he was doing to all -parties, and, besides, the twenty guineas was a fortune to him. He went -on prating to George, who was quite delighted with the ride on such a -grand horse; yet at times he grew thoughtful, and testified his regret -for the horse, lest he should be tired with carrying them all. "Geoge -vely solly fol poole holse, Balny! Geoge no like to be a holse." - -Many were the witch and fairy tales that Barnaby related that day to -amuse his fellow travellers. He set down Jane and George safe at their -cottage before evening, and astonished Robin not a little, who was -overjoyed to see his lost gimmer and lamb (as he termed them,) so soon. -He paid Barnaby his twenty guineas that night in excellent humour, -making some mention, meantime, of an old proverb, "They that hide ken -where to seek," and without delay sent information to the mansion-house -that Jane was found, and safely arrived at her own house, a piece of -news which created no little stir at Earlhall. - -The old lady had entertained strong hopes that Jane would not be found; -or that she would refuse to return after the treatment she had met -with, and the suspicions that were raised against her; in short, she -wished her not to return, and she hoped she would not; but now all her -fond hopes were extinguished, and she could see no honourable issue to -the affair. It was like to turn out a love intrigue; a low and shameful -business, her son might pretend what he chose. She instantly lost all -command of her temper, hurried from one part of the house to another, -quarrelled with every one of the maid servants, and gave the two -prettiest ones warning to leave their places. - -Lindsey was likewise a little out of his reason that night, but his -feelings were of a very different kind. He loved all the human race; he -loved the little birds that sung upon the trees almost to distraction. -The deep blue of the heavens never appeared so serene--the woods, the -fields, and the flowers, never so delightful! such a new and -exhilarating tone did the return of this beautiful girl (child, I mean) -give to his whole vital frame. "What a delightful world this is!" said -he to himself; "and how happy might all its inhabitants live, if they -would suffer themselves to do so!" He did not traverse the different -apartments of the house with the same hasty steps as his mother did, but -he took many rapid turns out to the back garden, and in again to the -parlour. - -In the middle of one of these distant excursions his ears were assailed -by the discordant tones of anger and reproach--Proud and haughty -contumely on the one side, and the bitter complaints of wronged but -humble dependance on the other. - -"This is some one of my mother's unreasonable imputations," said he to -himself; "it is hard that the fairer and more delicate part of my -servants, who are in fact _my_ servants, receiving meat and wages from -me, and whom I most wish to be happy and comfortable in their -circumstances should be thus harassed and rendered miserable--I will -interfere in spite of all obloquy." He went in to the fore-kitchen, -"What is the matter? What is the meaning of all this disturbance here?" - -"Matter, son! The matter is, that I will not be thus teased and wronged -by such a worthless scum of menials as your grieve has buckled on me. I -am determined to be rid of them for the present, and to have no more -servants of his hiring." - -So saying, she bustled away by him, and out of the kitchen. Sally, one -of the maidens that wrought afield, whose bright complexion and sly -looks had roused the lady's resentment, was standing sobbing in a -corner. "What is this you have done, Sally, thus to irritate my mother?" - -"I hae done naething ava that's wrang, sir; but she's never aff my tap; -an' I'm glad I'm now free frae her. Had she tauld me my fault, an' -turned me away, I wad never hae regrettit; but she has ca'd me names -sic afore a' these witnesses, that I'll never get mair service i' the -country. I see nae right ony body has to guide poor servants this gate." - -"Nor I either, Sally; but say no more about it; I know you to be a very -faithful and conscientious servant, for I have often enquired; remain in -your place, and _do not_ go away--remember I order it--give no offence -to my mother that you can avoid--be a good girl, as you have heretofore -been, and here is a guinea to buy you a gown at next fair." - -"Oh, God bless him for a kind good soul!" said Sally, as he went out, -and the benediction was echoed from every corner of the kitchen. - -He rambled more than half-way up the river side to Todburn; but -it was too late to call and see _the dear child_ that night, so he -returned--joined his mother at supper; was more than usually gay and -talkative, and at last proposed to invite this fair rambler down to -Earlhall to breakfast with them next morning. The lady was almost -paralyzed by this proposal, and groaned in spirit! - -"Certainly, son! certainly! your house is your ain; invite ony body to -it you like; nane has a better right! a man may keep ony company he -chooses. Ye'll hae nae objections, I fancy, that I keep out o' the -party?" - -"Very great objections, mother; I wish to see this girl, and learn her -history; if I call privately, you will be offended; is it not better to -do this before witnesses? And I am likewise desirous that you should see -her, and be satisfied that she is at all events worthy of being -protected from injury. Let us make a rustic party of it, for a little -variety--we will invite Robin, and his sister Miss Margaret, and any -other of that class you chuse." - -"O certainly! invite them ilk ane, son--invite a' the riff-raff i' the -parish; your mother has naething to say." - -He was stung with this perversity, as well as with his love for _the -child_ on the other hand--he did invite them, and the invitation was -accepted. Down came Robin Muckerland, tenant of the Todburn, dressed in -his blue and gray thread-about coat, with metal buttons, broader than a -Queen Ann's half-crown, dark corduroy breeches, and drab-coloured -leggums (the best things, by the bye, that ever came in fashion;) and -down came haverel Meg, his sister, _alias_ Miss Peggy, for that day, -with her cork-heeled shoon, and long-waisted gown, covered with broad -stripes, like the hangings of an ancient bed. She had, moreover, a -silken bonnet on her head for laying aside in the lobby, under that a -smart cap, and under that, again, an abundance of black curly hair, -slightly grizzled, and rendered more outrageously bushy that morning by -the effects of paper-curls over night. Meg was never seen dressed in -such style before, and I wish from my heart that any assembly of our -belles had seen her. She viewed the business as a kind of _show of -cattle_ before the laird, in the same way as the young ladies long ago -were brought in before King Ahasuerus; and she was determined to bear -down Jane to the dust, and carry all before her. The very air and -swagger with which she walked was quite delightful, while her blue -ribbon-belt, half a foot broad, and proportionally long, having been -left intentionally loose, was streaming behind her, like the pennon of a -ship. "It is rather odd, billy Rob," said she, "that we should thus be -invited alang wi' our ain cottar--However, the laird's ha' levels a'--if -she be fit company for him, she maunna be less for us--fock maun bow to -the bush that they seek beild frae." - -"E'en sae, Meg; but let us see you behave yoursel like a woman the day, -an' no get out wi' ony o' your vollies o' nonsense." - -"Deed, Rob, I'll just speak as I think; there sall naething gyzen i' my -thrapple that my noddle pits there. I like nane o' your kind o' fock -that dare do naething but chim chim at the same thing ower again, like -the gouk in a June day. Meg maun hae out her say, if it sude burst -Powbeit on her head." - -As they came down by the washing-green, Jane joined them, dressed in a -plain brown frock, and leading little George, who was equipt like an -earl's son; and a prettier boy never paddled at a mother's side. - -The old lady was indisposed that day, and unable to come down to -breakfast; and it was not till after the third visit from her son, who -found he was like to be awkwardly situated with his party, that she was -prevailed on to appear. Robin entered first, and made his obeisance; Meg -came in with a skip and a courtesy, very like that of the water-owzel -when she is sitting on a stone in the middle of the stream. Poor Jane -appeared last, leading her boy; her air was modest and diffident, yet it -had nothing of that awkward timidity, inseparable from low life, and a -consciousness that one has no right to be there. The lady returned a -slight nod to her courtesy, for she had nearly dropt down when she first -cast her eyes upon her beauty, and elegance of form and manner. It was -the last hope that she had remaining, that this girl would be a vulgar -creature, and have no pretensions to that kind of beauty admired in the -higher circles; now that last hope was blasted. But that which -astonished every one most, was the brilliancy of her eyes, which all her -misfortunes had nothing dimmed; their humid lustre was such, that it was -impossible for any other eye to meet their glances without withdrawing -abashed. The laird set a seat for her, and spoke to her as easily as he -could, but of that he was no great master; he then lifted little George, -kissed him, and, setting him on his knee, fell a talking to him. "And -where have you been so long away from me, my dear little fellow? Tell me -where you have been all this while." - -"Fal away, at auld Geoldie's, little Davie's falel, ye ken; him 'at -has 'e fine bonny 'halp wi' a stipe down hele, and anolel down -hele.--Little Davie vely good till Geoge, an vely queel callant." - -Every one laughed aloud at George's description of the whelp, and his -companion little Davie, save Jane, who was afraid he would discover -where their retreat had been, rather prematurely. Breakfast was served; -the old lady forced a complaisance and chatted to Meg, who answered her -just with what chanced to come uppermost, never once to the point or -subject on which she was previously talking; for all the time the good -old dowager was addressing her, she was busied in adjusting some part of -her dress--looking at the shape of her stays--casting a glance at the -laird, and occasionally at Jane--then adjusting a voluptuous curl that -half-hid her grey eye. She likewise occasionally uttered a vacant hem! -when the lady paused; and, as soon as she ceased, began some observation -of her own. Robin was quite in the fidgets. "Dear Meg, woman, that's no -what her ladyship was speaking about. That's no to the purpose ava." - -"Speak ye to the purpose then, Rob. Ye think naebody can speak but -yoursel, hummin an' hawin. Let us hear how weel ye'll speak to the -purpose.--Whisht, sirs! haud a' your tongues; my billy Rob's gaun to mak -a speech." - -"Humph!" quoth Robin, and gave his head a cast round. - -"Humph!" returned Meg, "what kind of a speech is that? Is that to the -purpose? If that be to the purpose, a sow could hae made that speech as -weel as you, and better. The truth is, mem, that our Rob's aye wantin to -be on his hich horse afore grit folk; now I says till him, Rob, says I, -for you to fa' to afore your betters, and be tryin to speak that vile -nicky-nacky language they ca' English, instead o' being on your hich -horse then, ye are just like a heron walkin on stilts, an' that's but a -daft-like beast. Ye sude mind, says I,--Rob, man, says I, that her -ladyship's ane o' our ain kind o' fock, an' was bred at the same heck -an' manger wi' oursels; an' although she has lightit on a good -tethering, ye're no to think that she's to gi'e hersel airs, an' forget -the good auld haemilt blude that rins in her veins." - -The lady's cheek was burning with indignation, for, of all topics, Meg -was fallen on the most unlucky; nothing hurt her feelings half so much -as hints of her low extraction. Lindsey, though vexed, could not repress -a laugh at the proud offence on the one side, and the untameable -vulgarity on the other. Meg discerned nothing wrong, and, if she had, -would not have regarded it. She went on. "Ah, Meg, woman! quo' he, ye -ken little thing about it, quo' he; when the sole of a shoe's turned -uppermost, it maks aye but an unbowsome overleather; if ye corn an auld -glide-aver weel, she'll soon turn about her heels, and fling i' your -face." - -Robin's whole visage changed; his eyes were set on Meg, but his brows -were screwed down, and his cheeks pursed up in such a manner, that those -were scarcely discernible; his mouth had meanwhile assumed the form and -likeness of one of the long S's on the belly of a fiddle. Meg still went -on. "Dear Rob, says I, man, says I, that disna apply to her ladyship -ava, for every thing that she does, an' every thing that she says, shows -her to be a douse hamely body; the very way that she rins bizzin through -the house, an' fliting on the servants, proves that she maks nae -pretensions to high gentility." - -Lindsey, who now dreaded some explosion of rage subversive of all -decorum, began and rallied Meg, commended her flow of spirits and fresh -looks, and said she was very much of a lady herself. - -"I wat, laird," said she, "I think aye if a body behaves wi' ease, an' -without ony stiffness an' precision, that body never behaves ill; but, -to be sure, you grand fock can say an' do a hantle o' things that winna -be ta'en aff our hands. For my part, when the great fike rase about you -an' Jeany there, I says--says I"---- - -This was a threatening preface. Lindsey durst not stand the sequel. "I -beg your pardon for the present, Miss Peggy," said he; "we shall attend -to your observations on this topic after we have prepared the way for it -somewhat. I was, and still am convinced, that this young woman received -very harsh and unmerited treatment from our two families. I am desirous -of making her some reparation, and to patronize her, as well as this -boy, if I find her in any degree deserving of it. This protection shall, -moreover, be extended to her in a manner that neither suspicion nor -blame shall attach to it; and, as we are all implicated in the wrong, I -have selected you as judges in this matter.--It is impossible," -continued he, addressing himself to Jane, "to be in your company half an -hour, and not discern that your education has been much above the -sphere of life which you now occupy; but I trust you will find us all -disposed to regard you with the eye of friendship, if you will be so -good as relate to us the incidents of your life which have contributed -to your coming among us." - -"The events of my life, sir," said she, "have been, like the patriarch's -days, few and evil, and my intention was, never to have divulged them in -this district--not on my own account, but for the sake of their names -that are connected with my history, and are now no more. Nevertheless, -since you have taken such an interest in my fortunes, it would both be -ungrateful and imprudent to decline giving you that satisfaction. Excuse -me for the present in withholding my family name, and I will relate to -you the incidents of my short life in a very few words. - -"My father was an eminent merchant. Whether ever he was a rich one or -not I cannot tell, but he certainly was looked upon as such, for his -credit and dealings were very extensive. My mother died twelve years -ago, leaving my father with no more children than another daughter and -myself. I received my education in Edinburgh along with my sister, who -was two years older than I. She began to manage my father's household -affairs at thirteen years of age, and I went to reside with an aunt in -East-Lothian, who had been married to a farmer, but was now a widow, and -occupied a farm herself. - -"Whether it originated in his not finding any amusement at home, or in -consciousness of his affairs getting into confusion, I know not, but our -father about this time fell by degrees from attending to his business in -a great measure, and sunk into despondency. My sister's letters to me -were full of regret; my aunt being in a declining state of health I -could not leave her for some months. At last she died, leaving me a -legacy of five hundred pounds, when I hastened home, and did all in my -power to assist my sister in comforting our father, but he did not long -survive, and dying insolvent, we not only lost our protector, but had -nothing to depend on save my little legacy and our own industry and -exertions. We retired to a small lodging; none of our friends thought -proper to follow us to our retreat; and now, bereaved as we were of our -natural protector, we could not help perceiving that we were a -friendless and helpless pair. My sister never recovered her spirits; a -certain dejection and absence of mind from this time forth began to prey -upon her, and it was with real sorrow and concern that I perceived it -daily gaining ground, and becoming more and more strongly marked. I -tried always to console her as much as I could for our loss, and often, -to cheer her, assumed a gaiety that was foreign to my heart; but we -being quite solitary, her melancholy always returned upon her with -double weight. About this time I first saw a young officer with my -sister, who introduced him carelessly to me as _the Captain_. She went -out with him, and when she returned I asked who he was. "Bless me, -Jane," said she, "do you not know the Captain?" I was angry at the -flippancy of her manner, but she gave me no further satisfaction." - -At the mention of this officer Lindsey grew restless and impatient, -changing his position on the seat every moment. - -"Things went on in this manner," continued Jane, "for some time longer, -and still my sister grew more heartless and dejected. Her colour grew -pale, and her eye heavy, and I could not help feeling seriously alarmed -on her account. - -"For nine or ten days she went out by herself for an hour or so every -day, without informing me where she had been. But one morning, when I -arose my sister was gone. I waited until noon before I took any -breakfast; but nothing of my sister appearing, I became distracted with -dreadful apprehensions. I went about to every place where I thought -there was the least chance of hearing any news of her, yet durst I not -ask for her openly at any one for fear of the answer I might receive; -for, on considering the late dejected state of her mind, I expected -nothing else than to hear that she had put an end to her existence. My -search was fruitless; night came, and still no word of my sister; I -passed it without sleep; but, alas! the next night, and many others, -came and past over without bringing a trace of her steps, or throwing a -gleam of light on her fate. I was now obliged to set on foot a strict -and extensive search, and even to have her advertised; yet still all my -exertions proved of no avail. - -"During this long and dreadful pause of uncertainty I thought there -could not be conceived a human being more thoroughly wretched than I -was. Only seventeen years of age; the last of all my father's house; -left in a lodging by myself; all my neighbours utter strangers to me, -and not a friend on earth to whom I could unbosom my griefs; wretched I -was, and deemed it impossible to be more so; but I had over-rated my -griefs, and was punished for my despondency. - -"When some months had passed away, one spring morning, I remember it -well! after a gentle rap at the door, the maid entered, and said, _a -man_ wanted to see me. 'A man!' said I; 'What man wishes to speak with -me?' - -"'I don't know, mem, he is like a countryman.' - -"He was shown in; a pale man, of a dark complexion, and diminutive size. -I was certain I had never seen him before, for his features were -singularly marked. He asked my name, and seemed at a loss to deliver his -message, and there was something in his air and manner that greatly -alarmed me. 'So you said your name is so so?' said he again. - -"'I did; pray, tell me what is your business with me?' - -"'There is a lady at our house, who I suppose wishes to speak with -you.' - -"'What lady wishes to see me? Where is your house?' - -"He named some place on the London road towards Berwick. - -"'What lady can possibly be there,' said I, 'that knows any thing of -me?' - -"He looked at me again.--'Pray, mem, have you a sister? Or had you ever -any that you know of?' - -"This query paralyzed me. I sunk down on the sofa; but as soon as I -could speak, I asked how long the lady had been with him? - -"'Only since Friday evening last,' said he. 'She was taken ill at the -inn on her way to Edinburgh, from whence she was conveyed to my house, -for the sake of better and more quiet accommodation; but she has been -very ill,--_very_ ill, indeed. There is now hope that she will recover, -but she is still _very_ ill. I hope you are the lady she named when all -was given over; at all events, you must go and see.' - -"Scarcely knowing what I did, I desired the man to call a post-chaise. -We reached the place before even. I entered her apartment, breathless -and impatient; but how shall I relate to you the state in which I found -her! My heart bleeds to this day, when remembrance presents me with the -woeful spectacle! She was lying speechless, unable to move a hand or -lift an eye, and posting on, with rapid advances, to eternity, having -some days before been delivered of this dear child on my knee." - -At this moment the eyes of all the circle were fixed on Jane, expressing -strongly a mixture of love, pity, and admiration. Lindsey could contain -himself no longer. He started to his feet--stretched his arms toward -her, and, after gasping a little for breath,--"Wh--wh--what!" said he, -sighing, "are you not then the _mother_ of little George?" - -"A poor substitute only for a better, sir; but the only parent he has -ever known, or is likely to know." - -"And you have voluntarily suffered all these privations, trouble, and -shame, for the sake of a poor little orphan, who, it seems, is no nearer -a kin to you than a nephew? If ever the virtuous principles and -qualities of a female mind deserved admiration--But proceed. I am much -to blame for interrupting you." - -"I never for another moment departed from my sister's bed-side until she -breathed her last, which she did in about thirty hours after my arrival. -During that time, there was only once that she seemed to recollect or -take the slightest notice of me, which was a little before her final -exit; but then she gave me such a look!--So full of kindness and sorrow, -that language could not have expressed her feelings half so forcibly. It -was a farewell look, which is engraven on the tablets of my mind, never -to be obliterated while that holds intercourse with humanity. - -"The shock which my feelings received by the death of the only friend of -my heart, with the mysterious circumstances which accompanied it, -deprived me for some time of the powers of recollection. My dreams by -night, and my reflections during the day, were all so much blent and -inter-mingled, and so wholly of the same tendency, that they became all -as a dream together; so that I could not, on a retrospect, discover in -the least, nor ever can to this day, what part of my impressions were -real, or what were mere phantasy, so strongly were the etchings of fancy -impressed on my distempered mind. If the man I mentioned before, who -owned the house, had not looked after the necessary preparations for the -funeral, I know not how or when it would have been set about by any -orders of mine. They soon enticed me away from the body, which they -suffered me to visit but seldom, and, it seems, I was perfectly passive. -That such a thing as my sister's funeral was approaching, occurred but -rarely to my mind, and then, it in a manner surprised me as a piece of -unexpected intelligence was wont to do, and it as suddenly slipped -away, leaving my imagination again to wander in a maze of inextricable -confusion. - -"The first thing that brought me to myself was a long fit of incessant -weeping, in which I shed abundance of tears. I then manifested an -ardent desire to see the child, which I recollect perfectly well. I -considered him as the only remembrance left to me of a respectable and -well-descended family, and of the dearest friend ever I remembered upon -earth. When I first saw him, he was lying on an old woman's knee; and -when I stooped to look at him, he, with a start of his whole frame, -fixed his young unstable eyes on me, and stretched out his little spread -hands toward me, in which position he remained steadily for a -considerable time. This was so marked and uncommon, that all the -standers-by took notice of it; and the woman who held him said, 'See! -saw ye ever the like o' that? I never saw the like o' that a' my life! -It is surely impossible he can ken ye?' - -"It was, without doubt, an involuntary motion of the babe, but I could -not help viewing it as a movement effected by the Great Spirit of -universal nature. I thought I saw the child beseeching me to protect his -helpless innocence, and not to abandon him to an injurious world, in -which he had not another friend remaining, until he could think and act -for himself. I adopted him that moment in my heart as my son--I took him -into my arms as a part of myself!--That simple motion of my dear child -fixed my resolution with respect to him at once, and that resolution -never has been altered nor injured in the smallest part. - -"I hired a nurse for him; and, it being term time, gave up my house, and -sold all my furniture, save the little that I have still, and retired to -a cottage at Slateford, not far from Edinburgh. Here I lived frugally -with the nurse and child; and became so fond of him, that no previous -period of my life, from the days of childhood, was ever so happy; -indeed, my happiness was centered solely in him, and if he was well, all -other earthly concerns vanished. I found, however, that after paying the -rent of the house, the expences of the two funerals, and the nurse's -wages, that my little stock was reduced nearly one-third; and fearing -that it would in a little while be wholly exhausted, I thought the -sooner I reconciled myself to hardships the better; so leaving the -remainder of my money in the bank as a fund in case of sickness or great -necessity, I came and took this small cottage and garden from your -farmer. I had no ambition but that of bringing up the child, and -educating him, independent of charitable assistance; and I cannot -describe to you how happy I felt at the prospect, that the interest of -my remaining property, with the small earnings of my own industry, was -likely to prove more than an equivalent to my yearly expences. I have -from the very first acknowledged little George as my own son. I longed -for a retirement, where I should never be recognised by any former -acquaintance. In such a place I thought my story might gain credit; nor -could I think in any degree to stain the name of my dear departed sister -by any surmises or reflections that might in future attach to it by -telling the story as it was. How I should have felt had he really been -my son, I cannot judge; but instead of feeling any degradation at being -supposed his mother, so wholly is my existence bound up in him, that I -could not bear the contrary to be supposed. - -"Who his father is, remains a profound, and, to me, unaccountable -mystery. I never had the slightest suspicion of the rectitude of her -behaviour, and cannot understand to this day how she could possibly -carry on an amour without suffering me to perceive any signs of it. She -had spoke but little to the people with whom I found her; but their -impressions were, that she was not married, and I durst not enquire -farther; for, rather than have discovered his father to be unworthy, I -chose to remain in utter ignorance concerning it, and I could not think -favourably of one who had deserted her in such circumstances. There was -no man whom I had ever seen that I could in the least suspect, if it was -not the young officer that I formerly mentioned, and he was the least -likely to be guilty of such an act of any man I ever saw." - -Here Lindsey again sprung to his feet. "Good God!" said he, "there is -something occurs to my mind--the most extraordinary circumstance--if it -be really so. You wished to be excused from giving your surname, but -there is a strange coincidence in your concerns with my own, which -renders it absolutely necessary that I should be informed of this." - -Jane hesitated, and said she could not think of divulging that so as to -make it public, but that she would trust his honour, and tell it him in -his ear. She then whispered the name M'----y. - -"What!" said he aloud, forgetting the injunction of secrecy, "of the -late firm M'----, Reynolds and Co.?" - -"The same, sir." - -The positions into which he now threw himself, and the extravagant -exclamations that he uttered, cannot here be all described. The other -three personages in the room all supposed that he was gone out of his -reason. After repeating, till quite out of breath, "It is she! it is -she! it is the same! it is the same!" and, pressing both her hands in -his, he exclaimed, "Eternal Providence! how wonderful are thy ways, and -how visible is thy superintendance of human affairs, even in the common -vicissitudes of life! but never was it so visible as in this! My dear -child," continued he, taking little George in his arms, who looked at -him with suspicion and wonder, "by how many fatal and untoward events, -all seemingly casual, art thou at last, without the aid of human -interference, thrown into the arms of thy natural guardian! and how -firmly was my heart knit to thee from the very first moment I saw thee! -But thou art my own son, and shalt no more leave me; nor shall your -beautiful guardian either, if she will accept of a heart that her -virtues have captivated. This house shall henceforth be a home to you -both, and all my friends shall be friends to you, for you are my own." - -Here the old lady sprung forward, and, laying hold of her son by the -shoulder, endeavoured to pull him away. "Consider what you are saying, -Lindsey, and what you are bringing on yourself, and your name, and your -family. You are raving mad--that child can no more be yours than it is -mine. Will you explain yourself, or are we to believe that you have -indeed lost your reason? I say, where is the consistency in supposing -that child can be yours?" - -"It is impossible," said Robin. - -"I say it's nae sic a thing as unpossible, Rob," quoth Meg. "Hand your -tongue, ye ken naething about it--it's just as possible that it may be -his as another's--I sal warrant whaever be aught it, it's no comed there -by sympathy! Od, if they war to come by sympathy"---- - -Here Meg was interrupted by Lindsey, who waved his hand for silence,--a -circumstance that has sorely grieved the relater of this tale,--for of -all things he would have liked to have had Meg's ideas, at full length, -of children being produced by sympathy. - -"I beg your pardon," said Lindsey. "I must have appeared extravagant in -my rapturous enthusiasm, having forgot but that you knew all the -circumstances as well as myself. The whole matter is, however, very -soon, and very easily explained." - -He then left the room, and all the company gazing upon one another. Jane -scarcely blushed on receiving the vehement proffer from Lindsey, for his -rhapsody had thrown her into a pleasing and tender delirium of -amazement, which kept every other feeling in suspense. - -In a few seconds he returned, bringing an open letter in his -hand.--"Here is the last letter," said he, "ever I received from my -brave and only brother; a short extract from which will serve fully to -clear up the whole of this very curious business." - -He then read as follows:--"Thus, you see, that for the last fortnight -the hardships and perils we have encountered have been many and -grievous; but TO-MORROW will be decisive one way or another. I have a -strong prepossession that I will not survive the battle; yea, so deeply -is the idea impressed on my mind, that with me it amounts to an absolute -certainty; therefore, I must confide a secret with you which none in the -world know, or in the least think of, save another and myself. I was -privately married before I left Scotland, to a young lady, lovely in her -person, and amiable in her manners, but without any fortune. We -resolved, for reasons that must be obvious to you, to keep our marriage -a secret, until I entered to the full possession of my estate, and if -possible till my return; but now, (don't laugh at me, my dear brother,) -being convinced that I shall never return, I entreat you, as a last -request, to find her out and afford her protection. It is probable, that -by this time she may stand in need of it. Her name is Amelia M'----y, -daughter to the late merchant of that name of the firm M'----y and -Reynolds. She left her home with me in private, at my earnest request, -though weeping with anguish at leaving a younger sister, a little angel -of mercy, whom, like the other, you will find every way worthy of your -friendship and protection. The last letter that I had from her was dated -from London, the 7th of April, on which day she embarked in the packet -for Leith, on her way to join her sister, in whose house, near -Bristo-Port, you will probably find her. Farewell, dear brother. Comfort -our mother; and O, for my sake, cherish and support my dear wife! We -have an awful prospect before us, but we are a handful of brave -determined friends, resolved to conquer or die together." - -The old lady now snatched little George up in her arms, pressed him to -her bosom, and shed abundance of tears over him.--"He is indeed my -grandson! he is! he is!" cried she. "My own dear George's son, and he -shall henceforth be cherished as my own." - -"And he shall be mine too, mother," added Lindsey; "and heir of -all the land which so rightly belongs to him. And she, who has so -disinterestedly adopted and brought up the heir of Earlhall, shall still -be his mother, if she will accept of a heart that renders her virtues -every homage, and beats in unison with her own to every tone of pity and -benevolence." - -Jane now blushed deeply, for the generous proposal was just made while -the tears of joy were yet trickling over her cheeks on account of the -pleasing intelligence she had received of the honour of her regretted -sister, and the rank of her child.--She could not answer a word--she -looked stedfastly at the carpet, through tears, as if examining how it -was wrought--then at a little pearl ring she wore on her finger, and -finally fell to adjusting some of little George's clothes. They were all -silent--It was a quaker meeting, and might have continued so much -longer, had not the spirit fortunately moved Meg. - -"By my certy, laird! but ye hae made her a good offer! an' yet she'll -pretend to tarrow at takin't! But ye're sure o' her, tak my word for -it.--Ye dinna ken women. Bless ye! the young hizzies mak aye the -greatest fike about the things that they wish maist to hae. I ken by -mysel;--when Andrew Pistolfoot used to come stamplin in to court me i' -the dark, I wad hae cried whispering, 'Get away wi' ye! ye bowled-like -shurf!--whar are ye comin pechin an' fuffin to me?' Bless your heart! -gin Andrew had run away when I bade him, I wad hae run after him, an' -grippit him by the coat-tails, an' brought him back. Little wist I this -morning, an' little wist mae than I, that things war to turn out this -way, an' that Jeany was to be our young lady! She was little like it -that night she gaed away greetin wi' the callant on her back! Dear Rob, -man, quo' I to my billy, what had you and my lady to do wi' them? -Because her day an' yours are ower, do ye think they'll no be courting -as lang as the warld stands; an' the less that's said about it the -better--I said sae!" - -"And you said truly, Meg," rejoined Lindsey. "Now, pray, Miss Jane, tell -me what you think of my proposal?" - -"Indeed, sir," answered she, "you overpower me. I am every way unworthy -of the honour you propose for my acceptance; but as I cannot part with -my dear little George, with your leave I will stay with my lady and take -care of him." - -"Well, I consent that you shall stay with my mother as her companion. A -longer acquaintance will confirm that affection, which a concurrence of -events has tended so strongly to excite." - -It was not many months until this amiable pair were united in the bonds -of matrimony, and they are still living, esteemed of all their -acquaintances. Barnaby is the laird's own shepherd, and overseer of all -his rural affairs, and he does not fail at times to remind his gentle -mistress of his dream about the _eagle_ and the _corbie_. - - -END OF THE WOOL-GATHERER. - - - - -THE HUNT OF EILDON. - -ANCIENT. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -"I hope the king will not hunt to-day," said Gale, as he sat down on the -top of the South Eildon, and stretched out his lazy limbs in the sun. -"If he keep within doors to-day with his yelping beagles, I shall have -one day's peace and ease; and my lambs shall have one day's peace and -ease; and poor Trimmy shall have one day's peace and ease too. Come -hither to me, Trimmy, and tell me what is the reason that you will not -hunt with the king's two beagles?" - -Trimmy came near, laid her paw on her master's knee, and looked him in -the face, but she could not tell him what was the reason that she would -not hunt with the king's two beagles, Mooly and Scratch. - -"I say, tell me my good Trimmy, what you ail at these beautiful hounds? -You wont to be the best follower of a track in all the Merse and Leader; -but now, whenever you hear the sound of the horn, and the opening swell -of the harriers, you take your tail between your legs and set off for -home, as there were something on the hill that were neither good nor -cannie. You are a very sensible beast, Trimmy, but you have some strange -fancies and prejudices that I cannot comprehend." - -Trimming cocked her ears, and looked towards the Abbey, then at her -master, and then at the Abbey again. - -"Ah! I fear you hear them coming that you are cocking your ears at that -rate. Then if that be the case, good morning to you, Trimmy." - -It was neither the king nor his snow-white beagles that Trimmy winded, -but poor Croudy, Gale's neighbour shepherd, who was coming sauntering up -the brae, with his black lumpish dog at his foot, that was fully as -stupid as himself, and withal as good-natured. Croudy was never lifting -his eyes from the ground, but moving on as if he had been enumerating -all the little yellow flowers that grew on the hill. Yet it was not for -want of thought that Croudy was walking in that singular position, with -his body bent forward, and the one ear turned down towards the ground, -and the other up. No, no! for Croudy was trying to think all that he -could; and all that he could do he could make nothing of it. Croudy had -seen and heard wonderful things! "Bless me and my horn!" said he, as he -sat down on a stone to rest himself, and try if he could bring his -thoughts to any rallying point. It was impossible--they were like a hive -of bees when the queen is taken from their head. - -He took out the little crooked ewe-horn that he kept as a charm; he had -got it from his mother, and it had descended to him from many -generations; he turned it round in the one hand, and then round in the -other hand--he put it upon his finger and twirled it. "Bless me an' my -horn!" said he again. Then leaning forward upon his staff, he looked -aslant at the ground, and began to moralize. "It is a growing -world--ay--the gerse grows; the lambs eat it--they grow--ay--we eat -them--we grow--there it goes!--men, women, dogs, bairns, a' eat--a' -grow; the yird eats up a'--it grows--men eat women--they grow--what -comes o' them?--Hoh! I'm fixed now!--I'm at the end o' my tether.--I -might gang up the hill to Gale, an' tell him what I hae seen an' what I -hae heard; but I hae four great fauts to that chiel. In the first place, -he's a fool--good that! In the second place, he's a scholar, an' speaks -English--bad! In the third place, he likes the women--warst ava!--and, -fourthly and lastly, he misca's a' the words, and ca's the streamers -the Roara Boriawlis--ha! ha! ha!--Wha wad converse wi' a man, or wha -_can_ converse wi' a man, that ca's the streamers the Roara Boriawlis? -Fools hae aye something about them no like ither fock! Now, gin I war to -gang to sic a man as that, an' tell him that I heard a dog speakin', and -another dog answering it, what wad he say? He wad speak English; sae ane -wad get nae sense out o' him. If I war to gang to the Master o' Seaton -an' tak my aith, what wad he say? Clap me up i' the prison for a daft -man an' a fool. I couldna bide that. Then again, if we lose our -king--an' him the last o' the race--Let me see if I can calculate what -wad be the consequence? The English--Tut! the English! wha cares for -them? But let me see now--should the truth be tauld or no tauld?--That's -the question. What's truth? Ay, there comes the crank! Nae man can tell -that--for what's truth to ane is a lee to another--Mumps, ye're very -hard on thae fleas the day--Truth?--For instance; gin my master war to -come up the brae to me an' say, 'Croudy, that dog's useless,' that wadna -be truth to me--But gin I war to say to him, 'Master, I heard a dog -speak, an' it said sae an' sae; an' there was another dog answered it, -an' it said sae an' sae,' that wad be truth to me; but then it wadna be -truth to him--Truth's just as it is ta'en--Now, if a thing may be outher -truth or no truth, then a' things are just the same--No--that disna haud -neither--Mumps, ye're no gaun to leave a sample o' thae fleas the day, -man--Look up, like a farrant beast--have ye nae pity on your master, nor -nae thought about him ava, an' him in sic a plisky?--I wadna be just sae -like a stump an' I war you, man----Bless me an' my horn! here's the -Boreawlis comin' on me--here's the northern light." - -"Good-morrow to you, Croudy." - -"Humph!" - -"You seem to be very thoughtful and heavy-hearted to-day, honest Croudy. -I fear pretty Pery has given you a bad reception last night." - -"Humph!--women!--women!" - -"I hope she did not mention the kiln-logie, Croudy? That was a sad -business! Croudy; some men are ill to know!" - -"See, whaten white scares are yon, Gale, aboon the Cowdyknowes an' -Gladswood linn? Look ye, they spread an' tail away a' the gate to the -Lammer-Law--What ca' ye yon, Gale?" - -"Some exhalation of the morning." - -"What?--Bless me an' my horn! that's warst ava!--I thought it wad be -some Boriawlis, Gale--some day Boriawlis; but I didna think o' aught sae -high as this--ha! ha! ha! ha!" - -Croudy went his way laughing along the side of the hill, speaking to -Mumps one while, moralizing about truth and the language of dogs and -fairies another, and always between taking a hearty laugh at Gale. "Come -away, Mumps," said he; "I can crack some wi' you, though ye're rather -slow i' the uptake; but I can crack nane wi' a man that ca's the -streamers a Roara Boriawlis, an' a white clud, an' Exaltation--Na, na, -that will never do." - -Croudy sauntered away down into the Bourgeon to be out of sight, and -Gale went lightsomely away to the top of the North-east Eildon; and -there, on one of the angles of the old Roman Camp, laid him down to -enjoy the glorious prospect; and, sure, of all the lovely prospects in -our isle, this is the most lovely. What must it have been in those days -when all the ruins of monastery, tower, and citadel, which still make -the traveller to stand in wonder and admiration, were then in their full -splendour. Traveller! would you see Scotland in all its wild and -majestic grandeur? sail along its western firths from south to -north--Would you see that grandeur mellowed by degrees into softness? -look from the top of Ben-Lomond--But would you see an amphitheatre of -_perfect beauty_, where nothing is wanting to enrich the scene? seat -yourself on the spot where Gale now lay, at the angle of the Roman Camp, -on the top of the North-east Eildon. - -Short time did he enjoy the prospect and the quiet in which he -delighted. First the heads of two noblemen appeared on the hill beneath -him, then came a roe by him at full speed. Trimmy would fain have hunted -her, but as the shepherd deemed that the business was some way connected -with the royal sport, he restrained her. The two noblemen some time -thereafter sounded a bugle, and then in a moment the king and his -attendants left the Abbey at full speed; and how beautiful was their -winding ascent up the hill! The king had betted with the Earl of Hume -and Lord Belhaven, seven steers, seven palfreys, seven deer-greyhounds, -and seven gold rings, that his two snow-white hounds, Mooly and Scratch, -would kill a roe-deer started on any part of the Eildon hills, and leave -the Abbey walk with him after she was started. After the bet was fairly -taken, the king said to the two noblemen, "You are welcome to your -loss, my lords. Do you know that I could bet the half of my realm on the -heads of these two hounds?" - -The two lords held their peace, but they were determined to win if they -could, and they did not blow the horn, as agreed on, immediately when -the roe started, but sauntered about, to put off time, and suffer the -trail to cool. The two hounds were brought up, and loosed at the spot; -they scarcely shewed any symptoms of having discovered the scent. The -king shook his head; and Hume, who loved the joke dearly, jeered the -king about his wager, which his majesty only answered by speaking to one -of the hounds that stood next to him. "Ah! Mooly, Mooly, if you deceive -me, it is the first time; but I have another matter to think on than you -this morning, Mooly." Mooly fawned on her royal master; jumped up at the -stirrup, and took his foot playfully in her mouth, while Keryl, the -king's steed, laid back his ears, and snapped at her, in a half-angry, -half-playful mood. This done, Mooly turned her long nose to the wind; -scented this way and that way, and then scampering carelessly over the -brow of the hill, she opened in a tone so loud and so sprightly that it -made all the Eildons sound in chorus to the music. Scratch joined with -her elegant treble, and away they went like two wild swans, sounding -over the hill. - -"Trimmy! Trimmy! my poor Trimmy!" cried Gale, vexed and astonished; -"Trimmy, halloo! hie, hunt the deer, Trimmy! Here, here, here!" - -No; Trimmy would never look over her shoulder, but away she ran with all -her might home to Eildon-Hall. "The plague be in the beast," said Gale -to himself, "if ever I saw any thing like that! There is surely -something about these two hounds that is scarcely right." - -Round and round the hills they went side by side, and still the riders -kept close up with them. The trail seemed to be warm, and the hounds -keen, but yet no deer was to be discovered. They stretched their course -to the westward, round Cauldshields Hill, back over Bothendean Moor, and -again betook them to the Eildons; still no deer was to be seen! The two -hounds made a rapid stretch down towards Melrose; the riders spurred in -the same direction. The dogs in a moment turning short, went out between -the two eastern hills, distancing all the riders, whom they left -straggling up the steep after them as they could, and when these came -over the height there was a fine roe-deer lying newly slain, and the two -snow-white hounds panting and rolling themselves on the grass beside -her. The king claimed his wager, but Hume objected, unless his majesty -could prove that it was the same deer that they had started at the same -place in the morning. The king had the greatest number of voices in his -favour, but the earl stood to his point. "Is it true, my liege lord," -said an ancient knight to the king, "that these two beautiful hounds -have never yet been unlieshed without killing their prey?" - -"Never," returned the king. - -"And is it equally true," continued the old knight, "that to this day -they have never been seen kill either roe, deer, or any other creature?" - -"That is a most extraordinary circumstance," said the king; "pause until -I recollect--No; I do not know that any eye hath ever yet seen them take -their prey." - -"I heard it averred last night," said the old man, "that if they are -kept sight of for a whole day the deer is never seen, nor do they ever -catch any thing; and that the moment they get out of sight, there the -deer is found slain, nobody knows how. I took note of it, and I have -seen it this day verified. Pray, is this a fact, my liege?" - -"I never before thought of it, or noted it," said the king; "but as far -as my memory serves me, I confess that it has uniformly been as you -say." - -"Will your majesty suffer me to examine these two hounds?" said the old -man. "Methinks there is something very odd about them--Sure there was -never any animal on earth had eyes or feet such as they have." - -The two beagles kept aloof, and pretended to be winding some game round -the top of the hill. - -"They will not come now," said the king; "you shall see them by and by." - -"If consistent with your majesty's pleasure," continued the aged knight, -"where--how--or when did you get these two hounds?" - -"I got them in a most extraordinary way, to be sure!" replied the king, -in a thoughtful and hesitating mood. - -"Your majesty does not then chuse to say how, or where, or from whom it -was that you had them?" said the old knight. - -The king shook his head. - -"I will only simply ask this," continued he; "and I hope there is no -offence.--Is it true that you got these hounds at the very same time -that the beautiful Elen, and Clara of Rosline, were carried off by the -fairies?" - -The king started--fixed his eyes upon the ground--raised his hands, and -seemed gasping for breath. All the lords were momentarily in the same -posture; the query acted on them all like an electrical shock. The old -man seemed to enjoy mightily the effect produced by his insinuations--He -drew still nearer to the king. - -"What is it that troubles your majesty?" said he. "What reflections have -my simple questions raised in your mind?--Your majesty, I am sure, can -have no unpleasant reflections on that score?" - -"Would to the Virgin Mary that it were even so!" said the king. - -"How is it possible," continued the officious old man, "that any thing -relating to two dogs can give your majesty trouble? Pray tell us all -about them--Who was it you got them from?" - -"I do not know, and if I did----" - -"Would you know him again if you saw him?" - -The king looked at the old man, and held his peace. - -"Did you buy them, or borrow them?" continued he. - -"Neither!" was the answer. - -"What then did you give in exchange for them?" - -"Only a small token." - -"And pray, if your majesty pleases, what might that token be?" - -"Who dares to ask that?" said the king, with apparent trouble of mind. - -"Would you know your pledge again if you saw it?" said the old man, -sarcastically. - -"Who are you, sir?" said the king, proudly, "that dares to question your -sovereign in such a manner?" - -"Who am I!" said the old man. "That is a good jest! That is such a -question to ask at one who has scarcely ever been from your side, since -you were first laid in your cradle!" - -"I know the face," said the king, "but all this time I cannot remember -who you are.--My Lord of Hume, do you know who the reverend old -gentleman is?" And in saying this his majesty turned a little aside with -the earl. - -"Do I know who he is?" said Hume. "Yes, by Saint Lawrence I do--I know -him as well as I do your majesty. Let me see--It is very singular that I -cannot recollect his name--I have seen the face a thousand times--Is he -not some abbot, or confessor, or----No--Curse me, but I believe he is -the devil!" - -The earl said this in perfect jocularity, because he could not remember -the old man's name; but when he looked at the king, he perceived that -his eyes were fixed on him in astonishment. The earl's, as by sympathy, -likewise settled by degrees into as much seriousness as they were -masters of, and there the two stood for a considerable time, gazing at -one another, like two statues. - -"I was only saying so in jest, my liege," said Hume; "I did not once -think that the old gentleman was the devil. Why are you thoughtful?" - -"Because, now when I think of it, he hinted at some things which I am -certain no being on earth knew of, save myself, and another, who cannot -possibly divulge them." - -They both turned slowly about at the same instant, curious to take -another look of this mysterious old man; but when fairly turned round -they did not see him. - -"What has become of the old man," said the king, "that spoke to me just -now?" - -"Here, sire!" said one. - -"Here!" said another. - -"Here!" said a third; all turning at the same time to the spot where -the old man and his horse stood, but neither of them were there. - -"How is this?" said the king, "that you have let him go from among you -without noting it?" - -"He must have melted into air, he and his horse both," said they; "else -he could not otherwise have left us without being observed." - -The king blessed himself in the name of the Holy Virgin, and all the -chief saints in the calendar. The Earl of Hume swore by the greater part -of them, and cursed himself that he had not taken a better look at the -devil when he was so near him, as no one could tell if ever he would -have such a chance again. Douglas said he hoped there was little doubt -of that. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -The hunt was now over, and Gale's lambs were all scattered abroad; he -threw off his coat and tried to gather them, but he soon found that, -without the assistance of Trimmy, it was impossible; so he was obliged -to go home and endeavour to persuade her again out to the hill, by -telling her that Mooly and Scratch had both left it. Trimmy then came -joyfully, and performed in half an hour what her master could not have -effected before night. - -When he had gotten them all collected, and settled at their food, he -went away in the evening to seek for his friend Croudy, to have some -amusement with him. He found him lying in a little hollow, conversing -with himself, and occasionally with Mumps, who paid very little -attention to what he said. He now and then testified his sense of the -honour intended to him, by giving two or three soft indolent strokes -with his tail upon the ground, but withall neither lifted his head nor -opened his eyes. Gale addressed his friend Croudy in a jocund and -rallying manner, who took no notice of it, but continued to converse -with Mumps. - -"Ye're nae great gallaunt, after a' now, Mumps. Gin I had been you, man, -an' had seen sic twa fine beasts as Mooly an' Scratch come to our hills, -I wad hae run away to them, an' fiddled about them, an' smelt their -noses, an' kissed them, an' cockit up my tail on my rigging wi' the best -o' them; but instead o' that, to tak the pet an' rin away far outbye, -an' there sit turnin up your nose an' bow-wowing as ye war a -burial-boding!--hoo, man, it is very bairnly like o' ye! Humph! fools do -ay as they are bidden! Ye're nae fool, Mumps, for ye seldom do as ye're -bidden." - -"Tell me, Croudy," said Gale, "does Mumps really run away in a panic -when he perceives the king's hounds?" - -"_Panic when he perceives the king's hounds!_ Are ye gaun to keep on at -bletherin' English? Tell me, ye see--for if ye be, I'm gaun to clatter -nane to ye." - -"Dear Croudy, I have often told you that there is not such a thing as -English and Scotch languages; the one is merely a modification of the -other, a refinement as it were"---- - -"Ay, an _exaltation_ like--ation! ation! I'm sure nae Scot that isna a -fool wad ever let that sound, _ation_, come out o' his mouth. Mumps, -what say ye tilt?" - -"But, Croudy, I have news to tell you that will delight you very much; -only, ere I begin, tell me seriously, Does your dog really run off when -he sees or hears the king's two white hounds?" - -"Really he does--Is that ony wonder? D'ye think Mumps sic a fool as no -to ken a witch by a brute beast?" - -"What do you mean to insinuate, Croudy?" - -"_Sinuate_--What's that?" - -"I mean, What would you infer when you talk of witches? I have some -strange doubts about these dogs myself." - -"Can you keep a secret?" - -"Yes, if it is worth keeping." - -"At ony rate, swear that if ever you do tell it, it is not to be in -English. Nane o' your _awlis's_ an' _ations_ in it. Gale, I hae the -maist wonderfu' story to tell ye that ever happened sin' Nimrod first -gaed out to the hunting wi' a bull-dog an' a pouch-fu' stanes. Ye see, -yesterday at morn, when the hunt began, I clamb up into the Eildon tree, -an' haid mysel' amang the very thickest o' its leaves, where I could see -every thing, but naething could see me. I saw the twa white hounds a' -the gate, but nae appearance of a deer; an' aye they came nearer an' -nearer to me, till at last I saw a bonny, braw, young lady, a' clad i' -white, about a hunder paces frae me, an' she was aye looking back an' -rinning as gin she wantit to be at the Eildon tree. When she saw the -hounds comin on hard behind her, she cried out; but they soon o'ertook -her, threw her down, an' tore her, an' worried her; an' I heard her -makin' a noise as gin she had been laughin' ae while an' singin' -another, an' O I thought her sang was sweet; it was something about the -fairies. Weel, this scene, sae contrair to a' nature, didna end here, -for I heard the tae dog sayin' to the tither, in plain language,--'Wha's -this has been the deer to-day?' An it answered again an' said, 'Lady -Marrion of Coomsley, ye may see by her goud rings; she is the -twenty-third, and our task will soon be dune.' - -'Sister, read me my riddle,' said the first. - - 'I ate my love an' I drank my love, - An' my love she gae me light; - An' the heart o' the deer may lie right near - Where it lay yesternight.' - -'Ha! that's nae riddle!' said the other; 'little does some wat what -they're to eat an' what they're to drink the night! Can ye tell me, -sister, if the wicked deed will be done?--Will the king die to-night? - - 'The poison's distill'd, and the monk is won, - And to-night I fear it will be done. - Hush!--hush!--we are heard an' seen; - Wae be to the ears, and wae be to the een!' - -"An wi' that, they rowed themsels on the bonny corpse; and when I lookit -again, there was a fine, plump, bausined roe-deer lying, an' the blude -streamin' frae her side; an' down comes the king an' his men, an' took -her away hame to their supper." - -"Now, Croudy, of all the tales I ever heard that is the most improbable -and unnatural! But it is too singular and out of the common course of -nature for you to have framed it; and besides, I never knew you to tell -a manifest lie--Are you certain that you did not dream it?" - -"How could I dream on the top of a tree? Ye may either believe it or no -as ye like--it's a' true." - -"I was sure there was something more than ordinary about these dogs; but -what to make of your story I know not. Saint Waldave be our shield! Do -you think the king and his nobles have been feasting upon changed human -creatures all this while? There is something in the whole business so -revolting to human nature, a man cannot think of it! It seems, too, that -there is a plot against the life of the king--What shall we do in -this?--The fairies have again been seen at the Eildon Tree, that is -certain; and it is said some more young people are missing." - -"They'll soon hae us a' thegither--I like that way o' turnin' fock into -deers an' raes, and worrying them, warst ava--Mumps, lad, how wad ye -like to be turned into a deer, an' worried an' eaten?--Aigh, man! ye -_wad_ like it ill! I think I see how ye wad lay yoursel out for -fear--Ha, ha! I wad like to see ye get a bit hunt, man, if I thought ye -wad win away wi' the life--I wad like to see ye streek yoursel for -aince." - -"I wonder, Croudy, after seeing such a sight as you have just now -described, that you can descend from that to speak such nonsense." - -"Tongues maun wag--an' when they gang it's no for naething--It's a queer -thing speaking!--Mumps, ye can speak nane, man--It's no for want of a -tongue, I'm sure." - -"Let us consider what's to be done--The king should be warned." - -"I dinna see what's to hinder you to speak, Mumps, as weel as ony white -beagle i' the country." - -"I have it--I will go home directly and tell pretty Pery--she will -apprize the abbot, and we shall have the two hounds, Mooly and Scratch, -burnt at the stake to-morrow." - -"You tell Pery? No; that will never do; for you will speak English--That -tale winna tell in English; for the twa witches, or fairies, or changed -fock, or whatever they may be, didna speak that language themsels--sin' -the thing is to be tauld, I'll rather tell Pery mysel, if it is the same -thing to you." - -This Pery was a young volatile maiden at Eildon Hall, who was over head -and ears in love with Gale. She would have given the whole world for -him; and in order to tease him somewhat, she had taken a whim of -pretending to be in love with Croudy. Croudy hated all the women, and -more particularly Pery, who had been the plague of his life; but of late -he had heard some exaggerated accounts of the kind sentiments of her -heart respecting him, which had wonderfully altered Croudy, although he -still kept up as well as he could the pretence of disliking the sex. He -went to Pery that evening as she was gathering in some clothes from the -bushes, and desired her, with a most important face, to meet him at the -Moss Thorn in half an hour, for he had something to tell her that would -surprise her. - -"Indeed and that I will with all my heart, Croudy," said she; "how glad -I am that I have got you this length! I can guess what your secret will -be." - -"Ye can do nae sic thing," said Croudy, "nor nae woman that ever was -born." - -"I'll wager three kisses with you, Croudy, at the Old Moss Thorn, that I -do," returned she. - -Croudy hung his head to one side, and chuckled, and crowed, and laid on -the ground with his staff; and always now and then cast a sly look-out -at the wick of his eye to Pery. - -"It's a queer creature a woman," said Croudy--"very bonny creature -though!" - -"Well, Croudy, I'll meet you at the Moss Thorn," said Pery, "and pay -you your wager too, provided you have either spirit to ask, or accept of -it when offered." - -Croudy went away laughing till his eyes blinded with tears, and laying -on the ground with his stick.--"I watna what I'll do now," said he to -himself, "little impudent thing that she is!--She's eneugh to pit a body -mad!--Mumps--O, man, ye're an unfarrant beast!--Three kisses at the Moss -Thorn!--I wish I had this meeting by!--Mumps, I never saw sic an -unfeasible creature as you, man, when ane thinks about a bonny woman--A -woman!--What is a woman?--Let me see!--'Tis no easy to ken!--But I ken -this--that a ewe lamb is a far nicer, bonnier, sweeter, innocenter, -little creature than a toop lamb. Oh! I wish it war night, for I'm no -weel ava!--Mumps, ye're a perfect blockhead, man!" - -Precisely while this was going on at Eildon-Hall, there were two ladies -met hurriedly on the Abbey Walk. No one knew who they were, or whence -they came, but they were lovely beyond expression, although their eyes -manifested a kind of wild instability. Their robes were white as snow, -and they had that light, elegant, sylph-like appearance, that when they -leaned forward to the evening air, one could hardly help suspecting that -they would skim away in it like twin doves. - -"Sister," said the one, "haste and tell me what we are to do?" - -"There is much to do to-night," said the other. "That clown who saw us, -and heard us speak, will blab the news; and then, think what the -consequences may be! He must be silenced, and that instantly." - -"And tell me," said the first, "is the plot against the king's life to -be put in execution to-night?" - -"I fear it is," answered the other; "and the abbot, his own kinsman, is -in it." - -"Alas, sister, what shall we do! Give me Philamy's rod, and trust the -clown to me. But do you make all possible haste, and find your way into -the banquet hall, and be sure to remain there in spite of all -opposition." - -The two sisters parted; and she that got the wand from the other -repaired straight to the Moss Thorn, where honest Croudy, and his dog -Mumps, were lying at a little distance from each other; the one very -busy biting for fleas, that he supposed had made a lodgment among his -rough matted hair, and the other conversing with himself about the -properties of women, fairies, and witches. All of a sudden he beheld -this beautiful angelic creature coming towards him, which made his heart -thrill within him. - -"Saint Mary be my guide!" exclaimed Croudy to himself; "saw ever ony -body the like o' yon? I declare Pery has dressed hersel like a princess -to come an' speak to me!--An' to think o' me kissing a creature like -yon! I maun do it, too, or else I'll never hear the end o't.--Och! what -will I do!--I'll lie down an' pretend to be sleepin." - -Croudy drew his plaid up over his face, stretched out his limbs, and -snored as in a profound sleep. The fair lady came up, gave him three -strokes with her wand, and uttered certain words at every stroke; and, -lo! the whole mortal frame of Croudy was in five seconds changed into -that of a huge bristly boar! The transformation was brought about so -suddenly, and Mumps was so much engaged, that he never once noticed, in -the slightest degree, till all was over, and the lady had withdrawn. Let -any man judge of the honest colley's astonishment, when, instead of his -master, he beheld the boar standing hanging his ears, and shaking his -head at him. He betook himself to immediate flight, and ran towards the -house faster than ever he ran in his life, yelping all the way for -perfect fright. Croudy was very little better himself. At first he -supposed that he was in a dream, and stood a long time considering of -it, in hopes the fantasy would go off; but on seeing the consternation -of Mumps, he looked first to the one side, and then to the other, and -perceiving his great bristly sides and limbs, he was seized with -indescribable terror, and fled at full speed. It is well known what a -ridiculous figure a hog makes at any time when frightened, and exerting -itself to escape from the supposed danger--there is not any thing so -calculated to make one laugh--his stupid apprehension of some -approaching mischief--the way that he fixes his head and listens--gives -a grunt like the crack of a musket, and breaks away again. Every one who -has witnessed such a scene, will acknowledge, that it is a masterpiece -of the ludicrous. Consider, then, what it would be to see one in such a -fright as this poor beast was, and trying to escape from himself; -running grunting over hill and dale, hanging out his tongue with -fatigue, and always carrying the object of his terror along with him. It -was an ineffectual exertion of mind to escape from matter; for, though -Croudy's form and nature were changed, he still retained the small and -crude particles of the reasoning principle which he had before. All -feelings else were, however, for the present swallowed up in utter -dismay, and he ran on without any definitive aim, farther than a kind of -propensity to run to the end of the world. He did not run a great way -for all that; for he lost his breath in a very short time; but even in -that short time, he run himself into a most imminent danger. - -Squire Fisher of Dernaway Tower had a large herd of cows--they were all -standing in the loan, as the milking green is called in that country, -and the maidens were engaged in milking them, singing the while in full -chorus, (and a sweet and enlivening chorus it was, for the evening was -mild and serene), when down comes this unearthly boar into the loan, all -fatigued as he was, gaping and running on without stop or stay. The kine -soon perceived that there was something super-human about the creature, -for even the most dull of animals have much quicker perceptions than -mankind in these matters; and in one moment they broke all to the gate -as they had been mad, overturning the milk, maidens, and altogether. The -boar ran on; so did the kine, cocking their heads and roaring in terror, -as if every one of them had been bewitched, or possessed by some evil -spirit. It was a most dismal scene!--The girls went home with the rueful -tidings, that a mad boar had come into the loan, and bitten the whole -herd, which was all run off mad, along with the furious and dreadful -animal. The dogs were instantly closed in for fear of further danger to -the country; and all the men of the village armed themselves, and -sallied out to surround and destroy this outrageous monster. - -It chanced, however, that the boar in his progress ran into a large -field of strong standing corn, which so impeded his course that he fell -down breathless, and quite exhausted; and thus he lay stretched at full -length, panting in a furrow, while all the men of the country were -running round and round him, every one with a sword, spear, or fork, -ready to run into his body. - -Croudy, or the Boar, as it is now more proper to designate him, got here -some time to reflect. He found that he was transformed by witchcraft or -enchantment, and as he had never looked up from under his plaid during -the moments of his transformation, he conceived it to have been the -beautiful and wicked Pery that had wrought this woful change upon him; -therefore he had no hopes of regaining his former shape, save in her -returning pity and compassion; and he had strong hopes that she would -ere long relent, as he had never wilfully done her any ill. Pery knew -nothing about the matter; but actually went up with a heart as light as -a feather to have some sport with Croudy at the Old Thorn; and when she -found that he was not there, she laughed and went home again, saying to -herself, that she knew he durst not stand such an encounter. - -The poor boar arose from his furrow in the midst of the field of corn, -as soon as it was day-light next morning, and with a heavy and forlorn -heart went away back to the Old Moss Thorn, in hopes that the cruel Pery -would seek him there, and undo the enchantment. When he came, he -discovered honest Mumps lying on the very spot where he had last seen -his master in his natural shape. He had sought it again over night, -notwithstanding the horrible fright that he had got, for he knew not -where else to find his master; and stupid as he was, yet, like all the -rest of his species, he lived only in his master's eye. He was somewhat -alarmed when he saw the boar coming slowly toward him, and began first -to look over the one shoulder, and then over the other, as if meditating -an escape; but, seeing that it came grunting in such a peaceable and -friendly manner, Mumps ventured to await the issue, and by the time the -monster approached within twenty paces of him, this faithful animal went -cowring away to meet him, prostrated himself at the boar's feet, and -showed every symptom of obedience and affection. The boar, in return, -patted him with his cloven hoof, and stroaked him with his bristly -cheek. Matters were soon made up--thenceforward they were inseparable. - -The boar lay all that day about the Moss Thorn, and Mumps lay in his -bosom, but no pitying damsel, witch, or fairy, came near him. He grew -extremely hungry in the evening, and was deeply distressed what to do -for food, for he pitied Mumps more than himself. At length he tried to -plow up the earth with his nose, as he remembered of having seen swine -do before, but at that he made small progress, doing it very awkwardly, -and with great pain to his face. Moreover, for all his exertion, he -found nothing to eat, save one or two moss-corns, and a ground walnut, -with which he was obliged to content himself; and, for his canine -friend, there was nothing at all. - -Next morning he saw his neighbour servants seeking for him, and calling -his name, but he could make them no answer, save by long and mournful -sounds between a grunt and groan. He drew near to several of them, but -they regarded him in no other light than as a boar belonging to some one -in the neighbourhood, straying in the fields. His case was most -deplorable; but as he still conceived there was one who knew his -situation well, he determined to seek her. He went down to Eildon-Hall, -with the faithful Mumps walking close by his side--tried to work his way -into the laundry, but being repulsed, he waited with patience about the -doors for an opportunity to present himself before Pery. She came out at -length, and went away singing to the well. The boar followed, uttering -the most melancholy sounds that ever issued from the chest of distressed -animal. Pery could not help noticing him a little. "What strange animal -can this be?" said she to herself; but perceiving that Mumps too was -following her, her attention was soon directed solely to him. - -"Alas, poor Mumps," said she, "you are famishing. What can be become of -your master?" - -The boar laid his ungraceful foot softly on that of Pery, looked -ruefully in her face, and uttered a most melancholly sound; as much as -to say, "You know well what is become of him! Have you no pity nor -remorse in your heart?" - -It was impossible Pery could comprehend this. She judged, like others, -that the animal had strayed from home, and was complaining to her for -food. She looked at him, and thought him a very docile and valuable -swine, and one that would soon be ready for the knife. He was astonished -at her apparent indifference, as well as moved with grief and vengeance, -seeing the abject state to which she had reduced him; and in his heart -he cursed the whole sex, deeming them all imps of Satan, witches, and -enchantresses, each one. He followed her back to the house. - -"Come in, Mumps," said she, "and you shall have your breakfast for the -sake of him you belonged to, whatever is become of him, poor fellow!" - -The boar ran forward, and kneeled at her feet moaning, on which she -kicked him, and drove him away, saying, "What does the vile beast want -with me? Mumps, come you in and get some meat, honest brute." - -Mumps would not come in, but when the boar was expelled, turned back -with him, looking very sullen. She brought him out a bicker of cold -parritch mixed with milk, but he would not taste them until the boar had -first taken his share; after which they went and lay down in the yard -together, the dog in the boar's bosom. Thus did they continue for many -days. At length the master of Eildon had the boar cried at the -church-door, and at the cross of Melrose, and as no one appeared to -claim him, he put him up for slaughter. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -But to return from this necessary digression.--The king and his nobles -had a banquet in the Abbey that night on which Croudy was changed, and -it was agreed by all present, that the venison of the roe-deer of Eildon -exceeded in quality that of any other part of the kingdom. The king -appeared thoughtful and absent during the whole of the evening; and at -mass, it was observed that he was more fervent in his devotions than -ever he was wont to be. The words of the old mysterious stranger--his -sudden disappearance--the rumours of fairies and witchcrafts that were -abroad, together with another vision which he had seen, but not yet -disclosed, preyed upon his mind, as it was little wonder they should, -and made him apprehend that every step he took was on enchanted ground. -The hound, Mooly, had slipt into the banquet-hall at the time of -vespers, and neither soothing, threatening, nor the lash, would drive -her hence. She clung to the king's foot until he took pity on her, and -said, "Cease, and let the poor animal stay, since she insists on it. I -will not have her maltreated for the fault of those who have the charge -of her, and should have put her better up." So Mooly got leave to -remain, and kept her station the whole night without moving. - -The glass circulated until a late hour. At length the king said, "My -lords, I crave a cup full to the brim, which I mean to dedicate to the -health of a lady, whom I think I saw yesterday morning; the mentioning -of whose name will a little astonish you." - -"My royal son and sire," said the abbot, "for your majesty is both, in -the general acceptation of the terms, shall it not be of your far-famed -Malmsey that you will drink this beloved toast?" - -"If you so please," said his majesty. - -"Ralpho," said the abbot, "here is the key. You alone know where the -portion of old Malmsey is to be found among his majesty's stores here -deposited; bring one bottle only to his majesty, and pour it carefully -yourself." - -Ralpho obeyed; poured out the wine till the cup was full, and turned the -remainder into a sewer. The king then arose, and lifting his cup on -high--"My lords," said he, "I give you the fairest, the loveliest, and -the most angelic maid that ever Scotland bred--I give you Elen of -Rosline." - -Every one started at the name till the wine was spilled all around the -table. Astonishment was in every look, for the king had said he had seen -her yesterday at morn. - -"To the bottom," cried the king. - -Every one drank off his cup with avidity, anxious to hear the -explanation. The king kept the position in which he stood until he saw -every cup drained, and then brought his slowly and gracefully to his -lips, with the intention of emptying it at one draught. But the moment -that it reached them, Mooly sprung up, snatched the cup and wine out of -his hand, and threw them on the floor. - -"Strike the animal dead," cried one. - -"Kick her out of the hall," said another. - -"Take her out and let her be hung up," cried a third. - -Mooly cowered at her royal master's feet, as if begging pardon, or -begging to remain. - -"Let her alone," said the king; "let us see what the beast means, and if -she persists in the outrage." - -He filled his cup of the wine before him, and brought it slowly to his -head in the same manner as he did before. He even took it away and -brought it back several times, in order to see if she would be provoked -to do the like again. But no!--Mooly appeared perfectly satisfied, and -suffered her master to drink it off piece-meal. A certain consternation -reigned in the royal apartment for some time; sharp arguments followed; -and, in the mean time, Angus and the abbot were heard whispering apart, -and the one said, "It must be accomplished this night, or abandoned for -ever." - -The nobles again took their seats, and the king appeared as formerly to -be growing thoughtful and dejected. - -"Pray cheer up your heart and be merry, my liege," said Douglas, "and -let not the casual frolic of a pampered animal tend to cast down your -majesty's spirits. Your majesty has not yet drank the extraordinary -toast you proposed." - -"But that I shall do presently," said the king. - -"Ay," said the abbot, "and your majesty shall do it too in the wine of -which I have heard your majesty so much approve. Fetch another bottle, -Ralpho." - -Ralpho brought it.--"I will pour for myself," said the king; and taking -the bottle, he poured about one-half of it into his cup; again named the -name of Elen of Rosline with rapturous enthusiasm, and again as he put -the cup to his lips, Mooly sprung up, snatched the cup from his hand, -and dashed it on the floor more furiously than before, and then cowered -at her master's feet as if begging not to be struck. - -"There is something more than ordinary in this," said the king, "and I -will have it investigated instantly." - -"There is nothing in it at all," said the abbot. "Pardon me, sire; but -it is a fault in your majesty, for which I have grieved, and often done -penance myself. You are, and have always been a visionary, and nothing -will ever wean you from it. You make idols of these two animals; they -have sometime been taught a number of pranks, and for one of these would -you augur aught against the monastery, your nobles, or your majesty's -own peace of mind?" - -"Are you certain that is the genuine Old Malmsey wine, Ralpho?" said the -king. - -"I am certain, sire, it is the wine that was shown to me as such." - -The king poured out the remainder that was in the bottle. "Drink thou -that, Ralpho," said he, "and tell me if it be really and truly the -genuine Malmsey." - -Ralpho thanked his majesty, bowed, and drank off the cup without -hesitation. - -"Is it genuine, Ralpho?" - -"I don't know, your majesty; I think it tastes a little of the earth." - -The circle laughed at Ralpho's remark; and the conversation began again -to grow general, when, some time thereafter, Ralpho, who was bustling -about, sat down in a languid and sickly posture on one of the window -seats. They looked at him, and saw that his face was becoming black. - -"What is the matter, Ralpho?" said one. - -"I do not know what is the matter with me," returned he; "I think I feel -as if that wine were not like to agree with my stomach." - -He fell into immediate convulsions, and in ten minutes he was lying a -swollen and disfigured corpse. - -Douglas was the first to cry out _treason_. He bolted the door, and -stood inside with his sword drawn, vowing that he would search the soul -of every traitor in the room. Angus's great power made the other lords -to stand in awe of him; although it was obvious to them all, that he was -at least as likely to have a hand in this as any other. Hume charged him -boldly to his face with it, and made proffer to abide by the proof; but -he pretended to receive the charge only with scorn and derision, as one -which no reasonable man could suppose. The king was greatly affected, -and, upon the whole, showed rather more apprehension on account of his -personal safety, than was, perhaps, becoming in a sovereign. He cried -out that "they were all of them traitors! and that he would rather be at -the head of a band of moss-troopers, than be thus condemned to have such -a set about him whom he could not trust." - -After some expostulation he acquitted the Earl of Angus, more, it was -thought, through fear, than conviction of his innocence; but from an -inference, the most natural in the world, he fixed the blame on the -abbot. - -"My liege," said the reverend father, "I know no more how this has -happened than the child that is unborn. There can be no doubt but that, -instigated by some of your majesty's enemies, the wretch, Ralpho, has -mixed the poison himself, and has met with the fate he justly deserved." - -"No!" replied the king, "If that had been the case, he would not have -been so ready in participating of the draught. I will not believe, but -that there is a combination among you to take my life." - -Every one protested his innocence more strenuously than another. - -The abbot was seized; and said, in his justification, "That he would -show his majesty the set of wine from which he had ordered Ralpho to -bring it, and he was willing to drink a share of any bottle of it that -they chose;" which he did. - -But this did not convince the king. He sent off privately a messenger to -assemble the Border Chiefs, and bring them to his rescue--took his two -favourite hounds with him into his chamber, placed a strong guard, -counted his beads, and retired to rest. - -Every means were tried next day by the nobles to dispel his majesty's -fears, and regain his confidence; and as nothing decisive could be -produced against any one, they succeeded in some degree. New -perplexities, however, continued to way-lay him, for he was throughout -his whole life the prey of witches and evil spirits; and though he -wrecked due vengeance on many, they still continued to harass him the -more. - -After high mass he had retired to his chamber to meditate, when the -nobleman in waiting came in, and said, that a stranger wanted to speak -with him on some urgent business. He was introduced, and any one may -judge of the king's astonishment, when he saw that it was the identical -old man who had spoken to him on the mountain, and vanished, the day -before. The king's lip grew pale, and quivered as the stranger made his -obeisance. - -"Thou herald of danger, treason, and confusion, what seekest thou again -with me?" said the king. - -"I come, my liege," said he, "to seek redress for the injured, and -justice on the offenders. Your two favourite hounds came last night to -the houses of two widows in Newstead, and have carried off their two -children from their bosoms, which they have doubtlessly devoured, as no -traces of them can be found." - -"Thou art a liar!" said the king, "and an inventor of lies, if not the -father of them; for these two dogs were locked up with me in my chamber -last night, and a guard placed on the door, so that what you aver is -impossible." - -"I declare to your majesty," said the stranger, "by the truth of that -right hand, that I myself saw the two hounds at liberty this morning at -daylight. I saw them come along the Monk's Meadow, carrying something -across on their necks." - -"It is easy to prove the falsehood of all that thou hast said," replied -the king; "and thy malicious intent shall not go unpunished." - -He then called in the guards, and bade them declare before that -audacious stranger, if his two white hounds, Mooly and Scratch, were not -in his chamber all the night. The guards were mute, and looked one to -another. - -"Why are you ashamed to declare the truth?" said the king to them. "Say, -were the two hounds in my chamber all night, or were they not?" - -The men answered, "that the hounds were certainly out. How it came they -knew not, but that they were let in in the morning." - -"There is a conspiracy among you again," said the king; "if not to -deprive your king of life, to deprive that life of every kind of quiet -and social comfort." - -"I demand justice," said the stranger, "in the names of two weeping and -distracted mothers! In the name of all that is right, and held dear -among men! I demand that these two obnoxious and devouring animals be -hung upon a tree, or burnt alive before the sun go down. Then shall the -men of Scotland see that their sovereign respects their feelings and -privileges, even though they run counter to his own pleasures." - -"One of these dogs saved my life last night," said the king; "and it is -very hard indeed that I should be compelled to do this. I will have -better testimony; and if I find that these children have actually been -devoured, (as most unlikely it is,) the depredators shall be punished." - -The old man bowed, and was preparing to reply, when the knight in -waiting entered hastily, and told the king that there was a woman in the -outer court, crying bitterly for justice, and who was very urgent to -speak with him. The king ordered that she should be admitted, and in a -moment she stood before him, pale, shrivelled, hagard, and wild, and -altogether such a figure as one scarcely can see, or could see, without -the impression that she was scarce earthly. Her appearance was that of a -lady of quality, of great age; she had large ear-rings, a tremendous -ruff, a head-dress of a thousand intricate flutings, projecting before -and tapering upward behind, cork-heeled shoes, a low hoop, and a waist -of length and stiffness, not to be described. - -"Revenge! Revenge! my lord, O king!" cried she. "I crave justice of your -majesty--justice, and nothing more. You have two hounds, that came into -my house early this morning, and have devoured, or taken away my only -daughter, my sole stay and hope in this world, and nothing is left but a -part of her garments. These dogs have some power deputed to them that is -not of thy giving, therefore grant me that I may see vengeance done upon -them, and their bodies burnt at a stake before the going down of the -sun." - -"That is a true and worthy gentlewoman, my liege," said the old -stranger; "and you may take her word for whatever she advances." - -The ancient dame turned about--stared on the stranger with wild -astonishment--dropped a low courtesy, and then said, "I crave you -pardon, my lord and master. I noted not that you were so nigh. I hope -your errand here coincides with mine." - -"It does," said he; "there are more sufferers than one; and, by the head -that bows to thee!--I swear by none greater--we shall have justice if it -be in the land!" - -"This is a combination," said the king; "I pay no regard to it. Bring -witnesses to establish your charges, and you shall have justice done." - -They went forth to bring their proof, and behold they had them all in -the outer court. In the mean time the king sent for some men of the -place to come, and made enquiry of them who the old dame was, and what -was the character that she bore. They informed him that she was a noted -witch, and kept the whole country in terror and turmoil, and that she -had indeed an only daughter, who was an impious and malevolent minx, -devoted to every species of wickedness. - -"The wrinkled beldame shall be burnt at the stake," said the king. "It -is proper that the land should be cleansed of these disturbers of its -peace; as for that old stranger, I have my own surmises concerning him, -and we shall find a way to deal with his subtilty." - -He then sent for a reverend old friar of the name of Rubely, who was -well versed in all the minutiæ of diablery and exorcism, whose skill had -often been beneficial to the king in the trying and intricate parts of -his duty that related to these matters, and with him he conferred on -this important subject. Father Rubely desired the king to defer the -further examination of these people for a very little while; and, in the -mean time, he brought in a basin of holy water, consecrated seven times, -and set apart for sacred uses, after which the examination went on, and -a curious one it was. The old witch lady deposed, "That as she was lying -pondering on her bed, and wide awake, about the dawn of the morning, she -heard a curious and uncommon noise somewhere about the house: That, -rising, she went out silently to discover what it could be, and to her -utter astonishment, beheld the king's two hounds, Mooly and Scratch, -spring from her daughter's casement, and in a short space a beautiful -roe-deer followed them and bounded away to the Eildons: That she hasted -to her daughter's apartment, and found that her darling was gone." The -stories of the other two were exactly similar to one another, only that -the one blamed one hound, and the other the other. It was as follows: "I -was lying awake in the morning very early, with my son in my arms, when -one of the king's hounds came into my house. I saw it, and wist not how -it had got there. A short time after I heard it making a strange -scraping and noise in the other end of the house, on which I arose to -turn it out; but on going to the place from whence the sound seemed to -come, I found nothing. I searched all the house, and called the hound by -her name, but still could find nothing; and at last I lighted a candle -and sought all the house over again, without being able to discover any -traces of her. I went back to return to my bed, wondering greatly what -had become of the animal; but having opened the door before to let her -make her escape, I conceived that she had stolen off without my having -perceived it. At that very instant, however, I beheld her coming softly -out of the bed where I had left my child, and in a moment she was out at -the door and away. I ran to the bed with the light in my hand, but my -dear child was gone, and no part, not even a palm of his hand, -remaining!" - -_Ques._ "Was there any blood in the bed, or any symptoms of the child -having been devoured?" - -_A._ "No; I could discover none." - -_Q._ "Did the hound appear to have any thing carrying in her mouth, or -otherwise, when she escaped from the house?" - -_A._ "No; I did not notice that she had any thing." - -_Q._ "Was there any thing else in the house at the time; any other -appearance that you could not account for?" - -_A._ "Yes; there was something like a leveret followed her out at the -door, but I paid no regard to it." - -_Q._ "Was the child baptized in a Christian church?" (No answer.) - -_Q._ "Were you yourself ever baptized in a Christian church?" (No -answer.) - -_Q._ "Why do you not answer to these things?" - -_A._ "Because I see no connection that they have with the matter in -question." - -"None in the least," said the old stranger, who still kept by their -side. - -When the king heard that the answers of the two women were so exactly -similar, though the one was examined before the other was brought in, he -said,--"This is some infernal combination; they are all of them witches, -and their friend there is some warlock or wizard; and they shall all be -burnt at the stake together before the going down of the sun." - -"It is a judgment worthy of such a monarch," said the stranger. - -"Father Rubely," said the king, "you who know all the men in this part -of my dominions, Do you know any thing of this old man, who refuseth to -give account of himself?" - -"I have often seen the face," said Rubely; "but I cannot tell at present -from whence he is.--Pray, sir, are you not he who has supplied the -monastery with cattle for these many moons?" - -"I am the same," said the stranger; "And were they not the best that -ever were furnished to the Abbey?" - -"They were," said Rubely. - -"Were they not exquisite and delicious above all food ever before -tasted?" said the old man. - -"They were indeed," said Rubely; "and I think I have heard it reported -that no one ever knew from whence you brought these cattle." - -"I knew myself," said the stranger, "and that was sufficient for me." - -"I have heard of this before," said the king, "and I think I divine -something of the matter. Tell me, I insist on it, from whence you -brought these cattle?" - -"I brought them from among the poor and the indigent," said the old man, -"on whom kings and priests for ever feed. For Christian carrion, I -provide food from among themselves." - -"They shall all be worried and burnt at the stake," said the king; "and -this man's torments shall be doubled." - -"Have patience, my lord, O king," said Rubely, "and let us not destroy -the reclaimable with those of whom there is no hope." Then going near to -the first woman who had lost her son, he said to her,--"It is better to -do well late than never--are you content to be baptized even now?" - -The woman bowed consent. He put the same question to the other, who -bowed likewise. The old man stood close by their side, and appeared to -be in great trouble and wrath. Rubely brought his goblet of consecrated -water, and, as he past, he threw a portion of it on the wrinkled face of -the old man, pronouncing, at the same time, the sacred words of baptism. -The whole form and visage of the creature was changed in a moment to -that of a furious fiend: He uttered a yell that made all the Abbey shake -to its foundations, and forthwith darted away into the air, wrapt in -flame; and, as he ascended, he heaved his right hand, and shook his -fiery locks at his inquisitors. The old withered beldame yelped forth -hysteric gigglings, something between laughing and shrieks--the king -fell on his knees, clasped the rood and kissed it--the two women -trembled--and even old Rubely counted his beads, and stood for a short -space in mute astonishment. He next proposed trying the same experiment -with the old witch lady, but she resisted it so furiously, with cursing -and blasphemy, that they abandoned her to her fate, and had her burnt -at St Miles's Cross before the going down of the sun. It was said by -some that the old stranger appeared among the crowd to witness her -latter end; and that she stretched out her hands towards him, with loud -supplications, but he only flouted and mocked at her, and seemed to -enjoy the sport with great zest. When Father Rubely heard of this, he -said that it would happen so to every one who sold themselves to be -slaves of sin in the hour of their extremity. - -The other two women confessed their sins, and received absolution. They -acknowledged that they had been acquainted with the stranger for a long -season; that he had often pressed them to sign and seal, which they had -always declined, but that nevertheless he had such an influence over -them, that he in a manner led them as he pleased; that at first they -took him for a venerable apostle, but at length discovered that he was a -powerful sorcerer, and could turn people into the shapes of such beasts -as he pleased, but that they never knew he was the devil till then. - -Friar Rubely assured them, that it was only such as slighted -church-ordinances over whom he was permitted to exert that power, and in -this the king passionately acquiesced. They confessed farther, that they -were still greatly afraid of him, for that he could turn himself into -any shape or form that he pleased; that he had often tempted them in the -form of a beautiful young man; and there was nothing more common with -him than to tempt men in the form of a lovely and bewitching woman, by -which means he had of late got many of them into his clutches. When the -king heard that, he counted his beads with redoubled fervency, and again -kissed the rood, for it reminded him of a lovely vision he had seen of -late, as well as some things of a former day. The women added, that the -stranger had of late complained grievously of two mongrel spirits, who -had opposed and counteracted him in every movement; and that they had -done it so effectually, that, for every weak Christian that he had -overcome and devoured, they had found means to destroy one of his -servants, or emissaries, so that his power in the land remained much -upon a par as in former times, although his means and exertions had both -been increased sevenfold.[1] - -A consultation of holy men was next called, and measures adopted for the -recovery of the two children. There it was resolved, that prayers should -be offered up for them in seven times seven holy chapels and cells at -the same instant of time, and the like number of masses said, with all -due solemnity; and that then it would be out of the power of all the -spirits of the infernal regions--all of them that were permitted to -roam the earth, or any of their agents, to detain the children longer, -into whatever shape or form they might change them. But for these -solemnities some delay was necessary. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[Footnote 1: From several parts of this traditionary tale it would -appear, that it is a floating fragment of some ancient allegorical -romance, the drift of which it is not easy to comprehend.] - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -Great was the consumpt of victuals at the Abbey during the stay of the -royal visitor!--the parsimonious brethren were confounded, and judged -that the country would to a certainty be eaten up, and a dearth of all -the necessaries of life ensue on the Border. When they beheld the -immense droves of bullocks--the loads of wild hogs and fallow-deer that -arrived daily from the royal forests of Ettrick and the mountains of the -Lowes, together with the flocks of fat black-headed wedders,--they -pressed their hands upon their lank sides, looked at their spare forms, -and at one another; but not daring to make any verbal remarks, they only -shaked their heads, and looked up to heaven! - -Victuals were again wearing short. Gudgel, the fat caterer for that -immense establishment, was out riding from morn till even in search of -fat things; he delighted in the very sight of a well-fed sleek animal; -it was health to his stomach, and marrow to his bones. It was observed, -that, whenever he came in sight of one, he stroaked down his immense -protuberance of paunch with both hands, and smacked his lips. He had -been out the whole day, and was very hungry; and when hungry, he enjoyed -the sight of a fat animal most. Gudgel certainly fed by the eye as well -as the mouth; for it was noted, that when he was very hungry, he would -have given the yeomen any price for a well-fed beast. - -He had been out the whole day--had procured but little stuff, and that -not of the first metal--but, on his way home, he heard of a fine -well-fed boar at Eildon-Hall; so he rode off the road, and alighted to -take a look of him. In a little triangular inclosure, at one corner of -the yard, there he beheld the notable boar lying at his ease, with -Mumps in his bosom. Of the dog he took no notice, but the sight of the -boar exhilarated him; he drew in a great mouthful of breath, closed his -lips, puffed out his cheeks, and made his two hands descend with a -semi-circular sweep slowly down over the buttons of his doublet. It is -impossible to tell how much the sight of such a carcase delighted -Gudgel!--Immoderately fat himself, his eye feasted on every thing that -was so; he could not even pass by a corpulent man, nor a pampered -overgrown matron, without fixing a keen glance upon them, as if -calculating exactly, or to a nearness, how much they would weigh, -sinking offal. - -"Oh, gracious heaven! what a fine hog! Goodman Fletcher, could you think -of putting such a delicious morsel as that by your masters? For shame, -goodman, not to let me know before this time of such a prize as -this!--The very thing!--No words: the hog is mine. Name your -price--Good security, Goodman Fletcher--a king and a priest--I am so -glad I have found him--I'll have him slaughtered, and cut neatly up, as -I shall direct, before I leave the house." - -A piece of sad news this for the poor boar! (Croudy the shepherd, that -once was.) When Gudgel pronounced the last sentence, the animal sprung -to his feet, gave a great snuff, and grunted out a moan that would have -pierced any heart but Gudgel's. "St Elijah!" said he, "what a fine -animal!" and gave him a lash with his whip as he rose. Mumps snarled, -and tried to bite the voluptuary in return for the unprovoked attack on -his master. - -Precisely about the same time that Gudgel alighted at Eildon-Hall, the -two lovely and mysterious sisters met at their accustomed place in the -Abbey Walk, for it chanced to be the few minutes of their appearance in -mortal frame. Their eyes had still the wild unearthly dash of sublimity -in them; and human eye could not scan to which state of existence they -pertained, but their miens were more beautiful and serene than when they -last met. - -"I give you joy, dear sister," said the one, "of our happy release! Our -adversary is baffled and driven from his usurped habitation--Our woeful -work of annihilation will henceforth cease, for the evil principle shall -not, as we dreaded, prevail in this little world of man, in which we -have received for a time a willing charge. Say what more is to be done -before we leave these green hills and the Eildon Tree." - -"Much is yet to be done, my beloved Ellen," answered the other. "As I -was this day traversing the air in the form of a wild swan, I saw the -Borderers coming down in full array; with a Chieftain of most undaunted -might at their head. We must find means to warn the haughty Douglas, -else they will cut his whole retinue to pieces; and the protector of the -faithful must not fall into the hands of such men as these." - -"He hath preyed on the vitals of his subjects," said she that spoke -first; and as she spoke she fixed her eyes on the ground in a thoughtful -attitude. - -"It is meet he should," said the other--"And think ye he will not meet -with his guerdon better where he is than among these freemen of the -Border? Think not so seriously of this matter, for it will not abide a -thought--from the spider to the king, all live upon one another!--What -numbers one overgrown reptile must devour, to keep the balance of nature -in equipoise!" - -The two lovely sisters, as she spoke this, held each other by the hand; -their angelic forms were bent gently forward, and their faces toward the -ground; but as they lifted these with a soft movement towards heaven, a -tear was glistening in each eye. Whether these had their source from the -fountain of human feelings, or from one more sublimed and pure, no man -to this day can determine. - -"And then what is to become of the two little changelings?" said the -last speaker. "All the spells of priests and friars will avail nought -without our aid.--And the wild roe-deer? And the boar of Eildon? He, I -suppose, may take his fate--he is not worthy our care farther.--A -selfish grovelling thing, that had much more of the brute than the man -(as he should be) at first--without one principle of the heart that is -worthy of preservation." - -"You are ever inclined to be severe," said the other. "If you but saw -the guise in which he is lying with his faithful dog, I think your heart -would be moved to pity." - -"If I thought there was one spark of the heavenly principle of gratitude -in his heart, even to his dog," said she, "I would again renovate his -frame to that image which he degraded; but I do not believe it.--Mere -selfishness, because he cannot live without his dog." - -"Here is Philany's rod," answered the other, "go, and reconnoitre for -yourself, and as you feel so act." - -She took the golden wand, and went away toward Eildon Hall; but her -motion over the fields was like a thing sailing on the wind. The other -glided away into the beechen grove, for there were voices heard -approaching. - -"Let us proceed to business, Goodman Fletcher," said Gudgel. "I insist -on seeing that fine animal properly slaughtered, blooded, and cut up, -before I go away. I have a man who will do it in the nicest style you -ever beheld." The boar looked pitifully to Gudgel, and moaned so loud -that Mumps fell a howling. "And I'll tell you what we'll do," continued -Gudgel; "we'll have his kidneys roasted on a brander laid on the coals, -and a stake cut from the inside of the shoulder.--How delicious they -will be!--Pooh! I wish they were ready just now--But we'll not be -long--And we'll have a bottle of your March beer to accompany -them.--Eh? Your charge may well afford that, goodman--Eh?" - -The boar made a most determined resistance; and it was not till -after he was quite spent, and more hands had been procured, that -he was dragged at last forcibly to the slaughter-house, and laid upon -the killing-stool, with ropes tied round his legs; these they were -afraid were scarcely strong enough, and at the request of the butcher, -Pery lent her garters to strengthen the tie. Never was there a poor -beast in such circumstances! He screamed so incessantly that he even -made matters worse. His very heart was like to break when he saw Pery -lend her garters to assist in binding him. Mumps was very sorry too; he -whined and whimpered, and kissed his braying friend. - -The noise became so rending to the ears, that all who were present -retired for a little, until the monster should be silenced. The butcher -came up with his bleeding-knife, in shape like an Andro Ferrara, and -fully half as long--felt for the boar's jugular vein, and then tried the -edge and point of his knife against his nail--"He has a hide like the -soal of a shoe," said the butcher; "I must take care and sort him -neatly." And so saying he went round the corner of the house to give his -knife a whet on the grinding-stone. - -At that very instant the beautiful angelic nymph with the golden rod -came into the court-yard at Eildon-Hall, and hearing the outrageous -cries in the slaughter-house, she looked in as she was passing, that -being the outermost house in the square. There she beheld the woful -plight of the poor boar, and could not help smiling; but when she saw -honest Mumps standing wagging his tail, with his cheek pressed to that -of the struggling panting victim, and always now and then gently kissing -him, her heart was melted with pity. The dog cast the most beseeching -look at her as she approached, which when she saw her resolution was -fixed. She gave the monster three strokes with her wand, at each of -which he uttered a loud squeak; but when these were done, and some -mystic words of powerful charm uttered, in half a quarter of a minute -there lay--no bristly boar--but the identical Croudy the shepherd! in -the same garb as when transformed at the Moss Thorn; only that his hands -and feet were bound with straw ropes, strengthened and secured by the -cruel Pery's red garters. - -"Bless me an' my horn!" said Croudy, as he raised up his head from the -spokes of the killing-stool; "I believe I'm turned mysel again!--I wad -like to ken wha the bonny queen is that has done this; but I'm sair -mistaen gin I didna see the queen o' the fairies jink by the corner. I -wonder gin the bloody hash will persist in killing me now. I'm fear'd -Gudgel winna can pit aff wantin' his pork steaks. May Saint Abednego be -my shield, gin I didna think I fand my ears birstling on a brander!" - -The butcher came back, singing to himself the following verse, to the -tune of _Tibby Fowler_, which augured not well for Croudy. - - "Beef stakes and bacon hams - I can eat as lang's I'm able; - Cutlets, chops, or mutton pies, - Pork's the king of a' the table." - -As he sung this he was still examining the edge of his knife, so that he -came close to his intended victim, without once observing the change -that had taken place. - -"Gude e'en t'ye, neighbour," said Croudy. - -The butcher made an involuntary convulsive spring, as if a thunder-bolt -had struck him and knocked him away about six yards at one stroke. There -he stood and stared at what he now saw lying bound with the ropes and -garters, and the dog still standing by. The knife fell out of his -hand--his jaws fell down on his breast, and his eyes rolled in their -sockets.--"L----d G----d!" cried the butcher, as loud as he could roar, -and ran through the yard, never letting one bellow abide another. - -The servants met him, asking what was the matter--"Was he cut? Had he -sticked or wounded himself?" - -He regarded none of their questions; but dashing them aside, ran on, -uttering the same passionate ejaculation with all the power that the -extreme of horror could give to such a voice. Gudgel beheld him from a -window, and meeting him in the entry to the house, he knocked him down. -"I'll make you stop, you scoundrel," said he, "and tell me what all this -affray means." - -"O L----d, sir! the boar--the boar!" exclaimed the butcher as he raised -himself with one arm from the ground, and defended his head with the -other. - -"The boar, you blockhead!" said Gudgel,--"what of the boar? Is he not -like to turn well out?" - -"He turns out to be the devil, sir--gang an' see, gang an see," said the -butcher. - -Gudgel gave him another rap with his stick, swearing that they would not -get their brandered kidneys, and pork steak from the inside of the -shoulder, in any reasonable time, by the madness and absurdity of that -fellow, and waddled away to the slaughter-house as fast as his posts of -legs could carry him. When he came there, and found a booby of a clown -lying bound on the killing-stool, instead of his highly esteemed hog, he -was utterly confounded, and wist not what to say, or how to express -himself. He was in a monstrous rage, but he knew not on whom to vend it, -his greasy wits being so completely bemired, that they were incapable of -moving, turning, or comprehending any thing farther than a grievous -sensation of a want not likely to be supplied by the delicious roasted -kidneys, and pork steak from the inside of the shoulder. He turned twice -round, puffing and gasping for breath, and always apparently looking for -something he supposed he had lost, but as yet never uttering a distinct -word. - -The rest of the people were soon all around him--the Goodman, Pery, -Gale, and the whole household of Eildon-Hall were there, all standing -gaping with dismay, and only detained from precipitate flight -by the presence of one another. The defrauded Gudgel first found -expression--"Where is my hog, you scoundrel?" cried he, in a tone of -rage and despair. - -"Ye see a' that's to the fore o' him," said Croudy. - -"I say, where is my hog, you abominable caitiff?--You miserable -wretch!--you ugly whelp of a beast!--tell me what you have made of my -precious hog?" - -"Me made o' him!" said Croudy, "I made naething o' him; but some ane, ye -see, has made a man o' him--It was nae swine, but me.--I tell ye, that -ye see here a' that's to the fore o' him." - -"Oh! oh!" groaned Gudgel, and he stroaked down his immense flanks three -or four times, every one time harder than the last. "Pooh! so then I am -cheated, and betrayed, and deceived; and I shall have nothing to -eat!--nothing to eat!--nothing to eat!--Goodman Fletcher, you shall -answer for this;--and you, friend beast, or swine, or warlock, or -whatever you may be, shall not 'scape for nought;" and, so saying, he -began to belabour Croudy with his staff, who cried out lustily; and it -was remarked somewhat in the same style and tenor, too, as he exhibited -lately in a different capacity. - -The rest of the people restrained the disappointed glutton from putting -an end to the poor clown; and notwithstanding that appearances were -strangely against him, yet, so well were they accustomed to Croudy's -innocent and stupid face, that they loosed him with trembling hands, -Pery being as active in the work as any, untying her red garters. "I -know the very knots," said she,--"No one can tie them but myself." - -"By the Rood, my woman! gin I war but up, I'll _knot_ you weel eneuch," -said Croudy; and if he had not been withheld by main force, he would -have torn out her hair and her eyes. He, however, accused her of being a -witch, and took witnesses on it; and said, he would make oath that she -had changed him into a boar on such an evening at the Moss Thorn. - -Pery only laughed at the accusation, but all the rest saw it in a -different light. They all saw plainly that Croudy had been metamorphosed -for a time by some power of witchcraft or enchantment--they remembered -how Mumps had still continued to recognise and acknowledge him in that -degraded state; and hearing, as they did, his bold and intrepid accusal -of Pery, they all judged that it would stand very hard with her. - -When Gudgel had heard all this, he seized the first opportunity of -taking Pery aside, and proposed to her, for the sake of her own -preservation, instantly to change the clown again; "And, as it is all -one to you," said he, "suppose you make him a little fatter--if you do -so, I shall keep your secret--if you do not, you may stand by the -consequences." - -Pery bade him, "Look to himself,--keep the secret, or not keep it, as he -chose;--there were some others, who should be nameless, that were as -well worth changing as Croudy." - -Gudgel's peril appeared to him now so obvious, and the consequences so -horrible, that his whole frame became paralysed from head to foot. In -proportion with his delight in killing and eating the fat things of the -earth, did his mind revolt at being killed and eaten himself; and when -he thought of what he had just witnessed, he little wist how soon it -might be his fate. He rode away from Eildon-Hall a great deal more -hungry and more miserable than he came. The tale, however, soon spread, -with many aggravations; and the ill-starred Pery was taken up for a -witch, examined, and committed to prison in order to stand her trial; -and in the mean time the evidences against her were collected. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -The Keylan Rowe. - - An' round, an' round, an' seven times round, - An' round about the Eildon tree! - For there the ground is fairy ground, - And the dark green ring is on the lea. - - The prayers were pray'd, and the masses said, - And the waning Moon was rising slow; - And ane dame sits at the Eildon-tree, - Whose cheike is pale as April snow. - - Ane cross is claspit in her hand, - Ane other lyis on her breiste bone; - And the glaize of feire is on her ee, - As she looks to the Eildon-stone. - - And aye she sung her holy hymn; - It was made to charm the elfin band, - And lure the little wilderit things, - Whose dwelling is in Fairy-land. - - And first she heard the horses' tread, - Like drifting leaves come through the dell; - And then she heard their bridles ring, - Like rain drops tinkling on a bell. - - Then the wild huntsmen first came on, - An' sic ane band was never seen! - Some wanted cheike, some wanted chin, - And some had nouthir nose nor een; - - One had ane ee in his forehead, - That ee was like ane glaizit pole; - His breiste was like ane heck of hay; - His gobe ane rounde and boral hole. - - And ilk ane held ane bugle horn, - And loud they toutit as they gaed by-- - "Ycho! ycho! The Keylan Rowe! - Hie to the weird-hill! huntsmen hie! - - "The little wee hare o' Eildon Brae - May trip it o'er the glen, O; - But nane shall bear the prize away. - But Keylan and his men, O. - - "Gil-Mouly's raid, and Keylan's Rowe, - Shall sweep the moore and lea, O; - And the little wee hare o' Eildon Brae - In heaven shall never be, O. - - "O'er wizard ground, with horse and hound, - Like rattling hail we'll bear, O-- - Ycho! ycho! The Keylan Rowe! - The quick and dead are here, O!" - - Then came their collarit phantom tykis, - Like ouf-dogs, an' like gaspin grews; - An' their crukit tungis were dry for blood, - An' the red lowe firled at their flews; - - Then came the troopis of the Fairy folke, - And O they wore ane lovely hue! - Their robes were greine like the hollin leife, - And thin as the web of the wiry dew. - - And first went by the coal-black steedis, - And then a troop o' the bonny bay; - And then the milk-white bandis came on, - An' last the mooned and the merlit gray. - - An' aye the sang, an' the bridles rang, - As they rode lightly rank an' file; - It was like the sound of ane maydenis voice - Heard through the greene-wood many a mile. - - "Hey, Gil-Mouly! Ho, Gil-Mouly! - On we fly o'er steep and stile! - Hey, Gil-Mouly! Ho, Gil-Mouly! - Hunt the hare another mile. - - "Over fen and over fountain, - Over downe and dusky lea; - Over moss, and moore, and mountain, - We will follow, follow thee! - - "O'er the dewy vales of even, - Over tower and over tree; - O'er the clouds and clefts of heaven, - We will follow, follow thee! - - "Nae mair the dame shall young son rock, - And sing her lilli-lu the while; - Hey, Gil-Mouly! Ho, Gil-Mouly! - Hunt the hare another mile!" - - The phantom huntsmen scaled the steep, - "Ycho! ycho! for Keylan's fame." - The Fairy barbs were light and fleet; - The chirling echoes went and cam. - - The roe fled into the greine-woode, - The dun deire boundit far away; - But nought wald serve the hunteris rude, - But the little wee hare o' Eildon-Brae. - - She heard, she knew, an' sped alone, - Away, away, with panting breiste; - The fairy houndis are lilting on, - Like Redwings wheepling through the mist. - - Around, around the Eildons greine, - Dashit the wild huntsmen furiouslye! - Och! sic ane night was never seine, - Sin' Michael cleft these hills in three! - - The sky was bright, and the dame beheld - The brattling chace o'er moonlight brow; - Then in the darksome shade they rushit, - With yelp, and yowle, and loud halloo. - - O, but the little Fairy grews - Swept lightly o'er the Eildon-Brae; - The houndis came youffing up behind, - As fast as they could win their way. - - And the wild huntsmen's gruesome tykis - All urgit the chace, but stop or stande. - "Ycho! ycho! The Keylan Rowe! - For earth, an' death, or Fairy-lande!" - - The dame she claspit the halye roode, - And dreddour wilde was in her ee; - And round, and round, and seven times round, - And round about the Eildon-Tree! - - The hunt still near and nearer drew-- - Weel moght the matronis herte be wae! - For hard they pressit, and aft they turnit - The little wee hare o' Eildon-Brae. - - They mouthit her aince, they mouthit her twice; - Loud did she scream throu fear and dread; - That scream was like ane bairnyis cry - Quhen it is piercit in cradle-bed. - - But the dame behelde ane bonny hounde, - White as the newly driftit snaw, - That close beside the leveret kept, - And wore the elfin grews awa. - - Hard did she toil the hare to save, - For the little wee hare was sair foreworne; - And the ghaistly huntsmen gatherit on, - With whoop, and whoo, and bugle-horne. - - O but the hounde was hard bestedd! - For round and round they harder press'd,-- - At length, beneath the Eildon-Tree, - The little wee leveret found its rest. - - It sprung into the matronis lap, - Wha row'd it in her kirtle gray; - And round, and round, came horse and hound, - With snort, and neigh, and howl, and bay. - - But the white hounde stood by her side, - And wore them back full powerfullye; - And round, and round, and seven times round, - And round about the Eildon-Tree! - - They turn'd the hare within her arms - A cockatrice and adder sterne; - They turn'd the hare within her arms - A flittering reide het gaud o' ern. - - But still within her kirtle row'd, - She sung her hymn and held it fast; - And ere the seventh time round was won, - Her child clung to his parent's breast. - - "Ycho! ycho! The Keylan Rowe;" - Away the fairy music sped, - "The day is lost, a maid has wonne, - The babe maun lie amang the dead. - - "The babe maun grow as grass has grown, - And live, and die, and live anew, - Ycho! ycho! The Keylan Rowe - Must vanish like the morning dew." - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -As the beautiful fairy-dame, or guardian spirit, or whatever she was, -had predicted, so it came to pass. The Borderers, alarmed at the danger -of the king, came down a thousand strong, thinking to surprise Douglas, -and take their monarch out of his hands by force; and they would have -effected it with ease, had not the Earl received some secret -intelligence of their design. No one ever knew whence he had this -intelligence, nor could he comprehend or explain it himself, but it had -the effect of defeating the bold and heroic attempt. They found him -fully prepared--a desperate battle ensued--120 men were left dead on the -field--and then things remained precisely in the same state as they had -been before. - -The court left Melrose shortly after--the king felt as if he stood on -uncertain ground--a sort of mystery always hung around him, which he -never could develope; but ere he went, he presided at the trial of the -maiden Pery, who stood indicted, as the _Choronikkle of Mailros_ bears, -for being "Ane ranke wytche and enchaunteresse, and leigged hand and -kneife with the devil." - -A secret examination of the parties first took place, and the proof was -so strong against the hapless Pery, that all hopes of escape vanished. -There was Croudy ready to make oath to the truth of all that he had -advanced with regard to his transmutation, and there were others who had -seen her coming down from the Moss-Thorn at the very time that Croudy -appeared to have been changed, just before he made his dashing entry -into the loan among the cows; and even old Father Rubely had, after -minute investigation, discovered the witch-mark, both on her neck and -thumb-nail. The king would gladly have saved her, when he beheld her -youth and beauty, but he had sworn to rid the country of witches, and no -excuse could be found. All the people of the country were sorry on -account of Pery, but all believed her guilty, and avoided her, except -Gale, who, having had the courage to visit her, tried her with the -repetition of prayers and creeds, and found that she not only said them -without hesitation, but with great devotional warmth; therefore he -became convinced that she was not a witch. She told him her tale with -that simplicity, that he could not disbelieve it, and withal confessed, -that her inquisitors had very nearly convinced her that she was a witch; -and that she was on the point of making a confession that had not the -slightest foundation in truth. The shepherd was more enlightened than -the worthy clergyman, as shepherds generally are, and accounted for -this phenomenon in a truly philosophical way. Pery assented; for -whatever Gale said sounded to her heart as the sweetest and most -sensible thing that ever was said. She loved him to distraction, and -adversity had subtilized, not abated the flame. Gale found his heart -interested--he pitied her, and pity is allied to love. How to account -for the transformation of Croudy, both were completely at a loss; but -they agreed that it was the age of witchery, and no one could say what -might happen! Gale was never from the poor culprit's side: He condoled -with her--wept over her--and even took her in his arms, and impressed a -tender kiss on her pale lips. It was the happiest moment of Pery's -existence! She declared, that since she was pure in his eyes, she would -not only suffer without repining, but with delight. - -As a last resource, Gale sought out Croudy, and tried to work upon him -to give a different evidence at the last and final trial; but all that -he could say, Croudy remained obstinately bent on her destruction. - -"It's needless for ye to waste your wind clatterin English, man," said -Croudy, "for foul fa' my gab gin I say ony sic word. She didna only -change me intil an ill-faurd he-sow, but guidit me shamefully ill a' the -time I was a goossy--kickit me wi' her fit, an' yerkit me wi' a rung -till I squeeled, and then leuch at me--An' warst ava, gae the butcher -her gairtens to bind me, that he might get me bled, an' plottit, an' -made into beef-steaks--de'il be on her gin I be nae about wi' her now!" - -Gale, hoping that he would relent if he saw her woeful plight, besought -of him to go and see her; but this he absolutely refused, for fear lest -she should "turn him into some daft-like beast," as he expressed it. -"Let her tak it," said he, "she weel deserves a' that she's gaun to -get--the sooner she gets a fry the better--Odd, there's nae body sure o' -himsel a minute that's near her--I never gang ower the door but I think -I'll come in a goossy or a cuddy-ass--How wad ye like to gang plowin up -the gittars for worms and dockan-roots wi' your nose, as I did!" - -It was in vain that Gale assured him of her innocence, and told him how -religious she was, and how well she loved him. Croudy remained -obstinate. - -"I wadna gie a boddle," said he, "for a woman's religion, nor for her -love neither--mere traps for moudiworts. They may gar a fool like you -trow that ae thing's twa, an' his lug half a bannock--Gin I wad rue an' -save her life, it wadna be lang till I saw her carrying you out like a -taed in the erntings, an' thrawin ye ower the ass-midden." - -Gale asked if he would save her, if she would pledge herself to marry -him, and love him for ever? - -"Me marry a witch!" said Croudy--"A bonny hand she would make o' me, -sooth! Whenever I displeased her, turn me into a beast--But ilka woman -has that power," added he with a grin,--"an' I fancy few o' them -mislippin it. The first kind thought I ever had toward a woman made a -beast o' me--an' it will do the same wi' every man as weel as me, gin he -wist it. As she has made her bed, she may lie down. I shall fling a -sprot to the lowe." - -Gale was obliged to give him up, but in the deepest bitterness of soul -he gave him his malison, which, he assured him, would not fall to the -ground. Pery was tried, and condemned to be choaked and burnt at the -stake on the following day; and Croudy, instead of relenting, was so -much afraid of himself, that he was all impatience until the cruel scene -should be acted. His behaviour had, however, been witnessed and detested -by some of whom he was not aware; for that very evening, as he was on -his way home, he beheld a nymph coming to meet him, whom he took for -Pery, dressed in her Sunday clothes, for one of the mysterious maids had -taken her form. He was terrified out of his wits when he beheld her at -liberty, and falling flat on his face, he besought her, with a loud -voice, to have mercy on him. - -"Such as you have bestowed," said she; and giving him three strokes with -her wand, he was changed into a strong brindled cat, in which form, he -remains to this day; and the place of his abode is no secret to the -relater of this tale. He hath power one certain night in the year to -resume his natural shape, and all the functions of humanity; and that -night he dedicates to the relation of the adventures of each preceding -year. Many a secret and unsuspected amour, and many a strange domestic -scene, hath he witnessed, in his capacity of mouser, through so many -generations; and a part of these are now in the hands of a gentleman of -this country, who intends making a good use of them. - -Poor Pery, having thus fallen a victim to the superstition of the times, -she wist not how, was pitied and shunned by all except Gale, whom -nothing could tear from her side; and all the last day and night that -were destined for her to live, they lay clasped in each other's arms. -While they were thus conversing in the most tender and affectionate way, -Pery told her lover a dream that she had seen the night before. She -dreamed, she said, that they were changed into two beautiful birds, and -had escaped away into a wild and delightful mountain, where they lived -in undecaying happiness and felicity, and fed on the purple blooms of -the heath. - -"O that some pitying power--some guardian angel over the just and the -good, would but do this for us!" said Gale, "and release my dearest Pery -from this ignominious death!" and as he said this, he clasped his -beloved maiden closer and closer in his arms. They both wept, and, in -this position, they sobbed themselves sound asleep. - -Next morning, before the rising of the sun, two young ladies, beautiful -as cherubs, came to the jailor and asked admittance to the prisoner, by -order of the king. The jailor took off his bonnet, bowed his grey head, -and opened to them. The two lovers were still fast asleep, locked in -each other's arms, in a way so endearing, and at the same time so -modest, that the two sisters stood for a considerable time bending over -them in delightful amazement. - -"There is a delicacy and a pathos in this love," said the one, "into -which the joys of sense have shed no ingredient. As their innocence in -life hath been, so shall it remain;" and kneeling down, she gave three -gentle strokes with her small golden rod, touching both with it at a -time. The two lovers trembled, and seemed to be in slight convulsions; -and in a short time they fluttered round the floor two beautiful -moor-fowl, light of heart, and elated with joy. The two lovely and -mysterious visitors then took them up, wrapt them in their snowy veils, -and departed, each of them carrying one; and coming to Saint Michael's -Cross, they there dismissed them from their palms, after addressing them -severally as follows: - - "Hie thee away, my bonny moor-hen! - Keep to the south of the Skelf-hill Pen; - Blithe be thy heart, and soft thy bed, - Amang the blooms of the heather so red. - When the weird is sped that I must dree, - I'll come and dwell in the wild with thee. - Keep thee afar from the fowler's ken-- - Hie thee away, my bonny moor-hen." - - "Cock of the mountain, and king of the moor, - A maiden's bennison be thy dower; - For gentle and kind hath been thy life, - Free from malice, and free from strife. - Light be thy heart on the mountain grey, - And loud thy note at the break of day. - When five times fifty years are gone, - I'll seek thee again 'mong the heath alone, - And change thy form, if that age shall prove - An age that virtue and truth can love. - True be thy love, and far thy reign, - On the Border dale, till I see thee again." - -When the jailor related what had happened, it may well be conceived what -consternation prevailed over the whole country. The two moor-fowl were -soon discovered on a wild hill in Tiviotdale, where they have remained -ever since, until last year, that Wauchope shot the hen. He suspected -what he had done, and was extremely sorry, but kept the secret to -himself. On viewing the beauty of the bird, however, he said to -himself,--"I believe I have liked women as well as any man, but not so -well as to eat them; however, I'll play a trick upon some, and see its -effect." Accordingly he sent the moor-hen to a friend of his in -Edinburgh, at whose table she was divided among a circle of friends and -eaten, on the 20th of October 1817, and that was the final end of poor -Pery, the Maid of Eildon. The effect on these gentlemen has been -prodigious--the whole structure of their minds and feelings has -undergone a complete change, and that grievously to the worse; and even -their outward forms, on a near inspection, appear to be altered -considerably. This change is so notorious as to have become proverbial -all over the New Town of Edinburgh. When any one is in a querulous or -peevish humour, they say,--"He has got a wing of Wauchope's moor-hen." - -The cock is still alive, and well known to all the sportsmen on the -Border, his habitation being on the side of Caret Rigg, which no -moor-fowl dares to approach. As the five times fifty years are very -nearly expired, it is hoped no gentleman will be so thoughtless as -wantonly to destroy this wonderful and mysterious bird, and we may then -live to have the history of the hunting, the fowling, fishing, and -pastoral employments of that district, with all the changes that have -taken place for the last two hundred and fifty years, by an eye-witness -of them. - -The king returned towards Edinburgh on the 14th of September, and on -his way had twelve witches condemned and burnt at the Cross of Leader, -after which act of duty his conscience became a good deal lightened, and -his heart cheered in the ways of goodness; he hoped, likewise, to be rid -of the spells of those emissaries of Satan that had beleaguered him all -his life. - -After they had passed the Esk, his two favourite white hounds were -missing; the huntsmen judged them to be following some track, and waited -till night, calling them always now and then aloud by their names. They -were however lost, and did not return, nor could they ever be found, -although called at every Cross in the kingdom, and high rewards offered. - -On that very eve Elen and Clara of Rosline returned to their native -halls, after having been lost for seven weeks. They came to the verge of -the tall cliff towards the east, from whence they had a view of the -stately towers of Rosline, then in their pride of baronial strength. -The sun had shed his last ray from the summit of the distant Ochils; the -Esk murmured in obscurity far below their feet; its peaceful bendings -here and there appeared through the profusion of woodland foliage, -uniting the brightness of crystal with the hues of the raven. All the -linns and woody banks of the river re-echoed the notes of the feathered -choir. To have looked on such a scene, one might have conceived that he -dwelt in a world where there was neither sin nor sorrow; but, alas! the -imperfections of our nature cling to us; they wind themselves round the -fibres of the conscious heart, so that no draught of pure and untainted -delight can ever allay its immortal earnings. How different would such a -scene appear to perfect and sinless creatures, whose destiny did not -subject them to the terrors of death, and the hideous and mouldy -recesses of the grave! Were it possible for us to conceive that two -such beings indeed looked on it, we might form some idea of their -feelings, and even these faint ideas would lend a triple grandeur and -beauty to such an evening, and indeed to every varied scene of nature, -on which our eyes chanced to rest. - -"Sister," said Clara, "we are again in sight of our native home, and the -walks of our days of innocence; say, are our earthly forms and -affections to be resumed, or are our bonds with humanity to be broken -for ever? You have now witnessed the king of Scotland's private -life--all his moods, passions, and affections--are you content to be his -queen, and sovereign of the realm?" - -"Sooner would I be a worm that crawls among these weeds, than subject -myself to the embraces, humours, and caprices of such a thing--A king is -a block, and his queen a puppet--happiness, truth, and purity of heart -are there unknown--Mention some other tie to nature, or let us bid it -adieu for ever without a sigh." - -"We have a widowed mother, beautiful, affectionate, and kind." - -"That is the only bond with mortality which I find it difficult to -break, for it is a wicked and licentious world--snares were laid for us -on every side--our innocence was no shield--and, sister, do not you yet -tremble to think of the whirlpool of conflicting passions and follies -from which we were so timeously borne away?" - -The lovely Clara bowed assent; and away they went hand in hand once more -to visit and embrace their earthly parent. They found her in the arms of -a rude and imperious pirate, to whom she had subjected herself and her -wide domains. They found themselves step-daughters in the halls that of -right belonged to them, and instead of fond love and affection, regarded -with jealousy and hate. Short and sorrowful was their stay; they -embraced their mother once again; bade her farewell with looks of -sorrow, and walking out to the fairy ring in the verge of the wood, -vanished from the world for ever. It is said, that once in every seven -years their forms are still to be seen hovering nigh to the ruins of -Rosline. Many are the wild and incomprehensible traditions that remain -of them over the country, and there are likewise some romantic scraps of -song, besides the verses that are preserved in the foregoing chapter, -which are supposed to relate to them. Many have heard the following -verses chaunted to a tune resembling a dirge: - - "Lang may our king look, - An' sair mot he rue; - For the twin flowers o' Rosline - His hand shall never pu'. - Lie thy lane, step-dame; - An' liefu' be thy lair; - For the bonny flowers o' Rosline - Are gane for evermair." - - * * * * * - - "O tell nae the news in the kitchen, - An' tell nae the news in the ha', - An' tell nae the news in the hee hee tower - Amang our fair ladies a'. - How damp were the dews o' the gloamin', - How wet were her hose and her shoon; - Or wha met wi' fair Lady Rosline - By the ee light o' the moon!" - - * * * * * - - "Douglas has lost his bassonet, - The king his hawk, and milk-white hound; - And merry Maxwell has taen the bent, - And its hey! and its ho! for the English ground!" - - * * * * * - - "When seven lang years were come an' gane, - By yon auld castle wa'; - There she beheld twa bonny maids - A playing at the ba; - - But wha shall speak to these fair maids - Aneath the waning moon; - O they maun dree a waesome weird, - That never will be doone!" - - * * * * * - - -EDINBURGH: - -Printed by James Ballantyne & Co. - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Duplicate title headings before each story have been removed. - -The following errors in the printed text have been corrected: - -p. 3 "CHAPTER ." changed to "CHAPTER I." - -p. 9 "toher young" changed to "to her young" - -p. 36 "mysel However," changed to "mysel. However," - -p. 64 "creeping o" changed to "creeping on" - -p. 77 "femenity" changed to "femininity" - -p. 100 "s en equalled" changed to "seen equalled" - -p. 132 "si e o't--sa d" changed to "side o't--said" - -p. 137 "remembered o" changed to "remembered so" - -p. 183 "did not not like" changed to "did not like" - -p. 183 "with it" changed to "with its" - -p. 186 "guff." changed to "guff."" - -p. 226 "whispering)," changed to "whispering," - -p. 247 "Yes, by" changed to ""Yes, by" - -p. 248 "nother" changed to "another" - -p. 338 "effect. Accordingly" changed to "effect. Accordingly" - - -The following possible errors in the printed text have been left as -printed: - -p. 8 "blithsome" - -p. 40 "ain house?"" - -p. 82 "knew not whether" - -p. 142 "burried" - -p. 165 "there's nought" - -p. 287 "hagard" - -p. 322 "aye the sang" - - -Quotation marks are used inconsistently where the narrator reports -dialogue, and apostrophes are used inconsistently to indicate elision; -these inconsistencies have been retained. - - -The following are used inconsistently in the text: - -daylight and day-light - -Eildon-Hall and Eildon Hall - -Eildon-Tree, Eildon Tree, Eildon-tree and Eildon tree - -melancholy, melancholly and mellancholly - -moonlight and moon-light - -round-about and round about - -stake and steak - -sunset and sun-set - -weelfaurd and weel-faurd - - -The following were not clearly printed and are conjectural: - -p. 165 apostrophe in "a' fair!" - -p. 172 bracketed text in "informatio[n]" - -p. 302 bracketed text in "triang[u]lar" - -p. 323 full stop in "and cam." - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BROWNIE OF BODSBECK, AND OTHER -TALES, VOL. 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