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Yet, notwithstanding his assumed courage, he slackened his pace, when, nearly upon the very spot where he had last seen the tall figure, he discerned, as if lurking among the long heather, a small black rough-looking object, like a terrier dog.

“He has nae dog that ever I heard of,” said Hobbie, “but mony a deil about his hand—lord forgie me for saying sic a word!—It keeps its grund, be what it like—I’m judging it’s a badger; but whae kens what shapes thae bogies will take to fright a body? it will maybe start up like a lion or a crocodile when I come nearer. I’se e’en drive a stage at it, for if it change its shape when I’m ower near, Tarras will never stand it; and it will be ower muckle to hae him and the deil to fight wi’ baith at ance.”

He therefore cautiously threw a stone at the object, which continued motionless. “It’s nae living thing, after a’,” said Hobbie, approaching, “but the very bag o’ siller he flung out o’ the window yesterday! and that other queer lang creature has just brought it sae muckle farther on the way to me.” He then advanced and lifted the heavy fur pouch, which was quite full of gold. “Mercy on us!” said Hobbie, whose heart fluttered between glee at the revival of his hopes and prospects in life, and suspicion of the purpose for which this assistance was afforded him—-“Mercy on us! it’s an awfu’ thing to touch what has been sae lately in the claws of something no canny, I canna shake mysell loose o’ the belief that there has been some jookery-paukery of Satan’s in a’ this; but I am determined to conduct mysell like an honest man and a good Christian, come o’t what will.”

He advanced accordingly to the cottage door, and having knocked repeatedly without receiving any answer, he at length elevated his voice and addressed the inmate of the hut. “Elshie! Father Elshie! I ken ye’re within doors, and wauking, for I saw ye at the door-cheek as I cam ower the bent; will ye come out and speak just a gliff to ane that has mony thanks to gie ye?—It was a’ true ye tell’d me about Westburnflat; but he’s sent back Grace safe and skaithless, sae there’s nae ill happened yet but what may be suffered or sustained;—Wad ye but come out a gliff; man, or but say ye’re listening?—Aweel, since ye winna answer, I’se e’en proceed wi’ my tale. Ye see I hae been thinking it wad be a sair thing on twa young folk, like Grace and me, to put aff our marriage for mony years till I was abroad and came back again wi’ some gear; and they say folk maunna take booty in the wars as they did lang syne, and the queen’s pay is a sma’ matter; there’s nae gathering gear on that—and then my grandame’s auld—and my sisters wad sit peengin’ at the ingle-side for want o’ me to ding them about—and Earnscliff, or the neighbourhood, or maybe your ainsell, Elshie, might want some good turn that Hob Elliot could do ye—and it’s a pity that the auld house o’ the Heugh-foot should be wrecked a’thegither. Sae I was thinking—but deil hae me, that I should say sae,” continued he, checking himself, “if I can bring mysell to ask a favour of ane that winna sae muckle as ware a word on me, to tell me if he hears me speaking till him.”

“Say what thou wilt—do what thou wilt,” answered the Dwarf from his cabin, “but begone, and leave me at peace.”

“Weel, weel,” replied Elliot, “since ye are willing to hear me, I’se make my tale short. Since ye are sae kind as to say ye are content to lend me as muckle siller as will stock and plenish the Heugh-foot, I am content, on my part, to accept the courtesy wi’ mony kind thanks; and troth, I think it will be as safe in my hands as yours, if ye leave it flung about in that gate for the first loon body to lift, forbye the risk o’ bad neighbours that can win through steekit doors and lockfast places, as I can tell to my cost. I say, since ye hae sae muckle consideration for me, I’se be blithe to accept your kindness; and my mother and me (she’s a life-renter, and I am fiar, o’ the lands o’ Wideopen) would grant you a wadset, or an heritable bond, for the siller, and to pay the annual rent half-yearly; and Saunders Wyliecoat to draw the bond, and you to be at nae charge wi’ the writings.”

“Cut short thy jargon, and begone,” said the Dwarf; “thy loquacious bull-headed honesty makes thee a more intolerable plague than the light-fingered courtier who would take a man’s all without troubling him with either thanks, explanation, or apology. Hence, I say! thou art one of those tame slaves whose word is as good as their bond. Keep the money, principal and interest, until I demand it of thee.”

“But,” continued the pertinacious Borderer, “we are a’ life-like and death-like, Elshie, and there really should be some black and white on this transaction. Sae just make me a minute, or missive, in ony form ye like, and I’se write it fair ower, and subscribe it before famous witnesses. Only, Elshie, I wad wuss ye to pit naething in’t that may be prejudicial to my salvation; for I’ll hae the minister to read it ower, and it wad only be exposing yoursell to nae purpose. And now I’m ganging awa’, for ye’ll be wearied o’ my cracks, and I am wearied wi’ cracking without an answer—and I’se bring ye a bit o’ bride’s-cake ane o’ thae days, and maybe bring Grace to see you. Ye wad like to see Grace, man, for as dour as ye are—Eh, Lord I I wish he may be weel, that was a sair grane! or, maybe, he thought I was speaking of heavenly grace, and no of Grace Armstrong. Poor man, I am very doubtfu’ o’ his condition; but I am sure he is as kind to me as if I were his son, and a queer-looking father I wad hae had, if that had been e’en sae.”

Hobbie now relieved his benefactor of his presence, and rode blithely home to display his treasure, and consult upon the means of repairing the damage which his fortune had sustained through the aggression of the Red Reiver of Westburnflat.





CHAPTER XI. Three ruffians seized me yester morn, Alas! a maiden most forlorn; They choked my cries with wicked might, And bound me on a palfrey white: As sure as Heaven shall pity me, I cannot tell what men they be.—CHRISTABELLE.

The course of our story must here revert a little, to detail the circumstances which had placed Miss Vere in the unpleasant situation from which she was unexpectedly, and indeed unintentionally liberated, by the appearance of Earnscliff and Elliot, with their friends and followers, before the Tower of Westburnflat.

On the morning preceding the night in which Hobbie’s house was plundered and burnt, Miss Vere was requested by her father to accompany him in a walk through a distant part of the romantic grounds which lay round his castle of Ellieslaw. “To hear was to obey,” in the true style of Oriental despotism; but Isabella trembled in silence while she followed her father through rough paths, now winding by the side of the river, now ascending the cliffs which serve for its banks. A single servant, selected perhaps for his stupidity, was the only person who attended them. From her father’s silence, Isabella little doubted that he had chosen this distant and sequestered scene to resume the argument which they

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