Martin Elliot of the Preakin-tower, noted in Border story and song, was
on his return from deer-stalking. The deer, once so numerous among these
solitary wastes, were now reduced to a very few herds, which, sheltering
themselves in the most remote and inaccessible recesses, rendered the
task of pursuing them equally toilsome and precarious. There were,
however, found many youth of the country ardently attached to this
sport, with all its dangers and fatigues. The sword had been sheathed
upon the Borders for more than a hundred years, by the peaceful union of
the crowns in the reign of James the First of Great Britain. Still
the country retained traces of what it had been in former days; the
inhabitants, their more peaceful avocations having been repeatedly
interrupted by the civil wars of the preceding century, were scarce yet
broken in to the habits of regular industry, sheep-farming had not been
introduced upon any considerable scale, and the feeding of black cattle
was the chief purpose to which the hills and valleys were applied. Near
to the farmer's house, the tenant usually contrived to raise such a crop
of oats or barley, as afforded meal for his family; and the whole of
this slovenly and imperfect mode of cultivation left much time upon his
own hands, and those of his domestics. This was usually employed by the
young men in hunting and fishing; and the spirit of adventure, which
formerly led to raids and forays in the same districts, was still to be
discovered in the eagerness with which they pursued those rural sports.
The more high-spirited among the youth were, about the time that our
narrative begins, expecting, rather with hope than apprehension, an
opportunity of emulating their fathers in their military achievements,
the recital of which formed the chief part of their amusement within
doors. The passing of the Scottish act of security had given the alarm
of England, as it seemed to point at a separation of the two British
kingdoms, after the decease of Queen Anne, the reigning sovereign.
Godolphin, then at the head of the English administration, foresaw that
there was no other mode of avoiding the probable extremity of a civil
war, but by carrying through an incorporating union. How that treaty
was managed, and how little it seemed for some time to promise the
beneficial results which have since taken place to such extent, may be
learned from the history of the period. It is enough for our purpose
to say, that all Scotland was indignant at the terms on which their
legislature had surrendered their national independence. The general
resentment led to the strangest leagues and to the wildest plans. The
Cameronians were about to take arms for the restoration of the house of
Stewart, whom they regarded, with justice, as their oppressors; and
the intrigues of the period presented the strange picture of papists,
prelatists, and presbyterians, caballing among themselves against the
English government, out of a common feeling that their country had been
treated with injustice. The fermentation was universal; and, as the
population of Scotland had been generally trained to arms, under the act
of security, they were not indifferently prepared for war, and waited
but the declaration of some of the nobility to break out into open
hostility. It was at this period of public confusion that our story
opens.
The cleugh, or wild ravine, into which Hobbie Elliot had followed the
game, was already far behind him, and he was considerably advanced on
his return homeward, when the night began to close upon him. This
would have been a circumstance of great indifference to the experienced
sportsman, who could have walked blindfold over every inch of his
native heaths, had it not happened near a spot, which, according to
the traditions of the country, was in extremely bad fame, as haunted
by supernatural appearances. To tales of this kind Hobbie had, from his
childhood, lent an attentive ear; and as no part of the country afforded
such a variety of legends, so no man was more deeply read in their
fearful lore than Hobbie of the Heugh-foot; for so our gallant was
called, to distinguish him from a round dozen of Elliots who bore the
same Christian name. It cost him no efforts, therefore, to call to
memory the terrific incidents connected with the extensive waste upon
which he was now entering. In fact, they presented themselves with a
readiness which he felt to be somewhat dismaying.
This dreary common was called Mucklestane-Moor, from a huge column of
unhewn granite, which raised its massy head on a knell near the centre
of the heath, perhaps to tell of the mighty dead who slept beneath, or
to preserve the memory of some bloody skirmish. The real cause of
its existence had, however, passed away; and tradition, which is as
frequently an inventor of fiction as a preserver of truth, had supplied
its place with a supplementary legend of her own, which now came full
upon Hobbie's memory. The ground about the pillar was strewed, or rather
encumbered, with many large fragments of stone of the same consistence
with the column, which, from their appearance as they lay scattered on
the waste, were popularly called the Grey Geese of Mucklestane-Moor. The
legend accounted for this name and appearance by the catastrophe of a
noted and most formidable witch who frequented these hills in former
days, causing the ewes to KEB, and the kine to cast their calves, and
performing all the feats of mischief ascribed to these evil beings. On
this moor she used to hold her revels with her sister hags; and rings
were still pointed out on which no grass nor heath ever grew, the turf
being, as it were, calcined by the scorching hoofs of their diabolical
partners.
Once upon a time this old hag is said to have crossed the moor, driving
before her a flock of geese, which she proposed to sell to advantage
at a neighbouring fair; - for it is well known that the fiend, however
liberal in imparting his powers of doing mischief, ungenerously leaves
his allies under the necessity of performing the meanest rustic labours
for subsistence. The day was far advanced, and her chance of obtaining
a good price depended on her being first at the market. But the geese,
which had hitherto preceded her in a pretty orderly manner, when they
came to this wide common, interspersed with marshes and pools of water,
scattered in every direction, to plunge into the element in which they
delighted. Incensed at the obstinacy with which they defied all her
efforts to collect them, and not remembering the precise terms of the
contract by which the fiend was bound to obey her commands for a certain
space, the sorceress exclaimed, "Deevil, that neither I nor they ever
stir from this spot more!" The words were hardly uttered, when, by a
metamorphosis as sudden as any in Ovid, the hag and her refractory flock
were converted into stone, the angel whom she served, being a strict
formalist, grasping eagerly at an opportunity of completing the ruin of
her body and soul by a literal obedience to her orders. It is said, that
when she perceived and felt the transformation which was about to take
place, she exclaimed to the treacherous fiend, "Ah, thou false thief!
lang hast thou promised me a grey gown, and now I am getting ane that
will last for ever." The dimensions of the pillar, and of the stones,
were often appealed to, as a proof of the superior stature and size of
old women and geese in the days of other years, by those praisers of
the past who held the comfortable opinion of the gradual degeneracy of
mankind.
All particulars of this legend Hobbie called to mind as he passed along
the moor. He also remembered, that, since the catastrophe had taken
place, the scene of it had been avoided, at least after night-fall, by
all human beings, as being the ordinary resort of kelpies, spunkies, and
other demons, once the companions of the witch's diabolical revels,
and now continuing to rendezvous upon the same spot, as if still in
attendance on their transformed mistress. Hobbie's natural hardihood,
however, manfully combated with these intrusive sensations of awe.
He summoned to his side the brace of large greyhounds, who were the
companions of his sports, and who were wont, in his own phrase, to fear
neither dog nor devil; he looked at the priming of his piece, and, like
the clown in Hallowe'en, whistled up the warlike ditty of Jock of the
Side, as a general causes his drums be beat to inspirit the doubtful
courage of his soldiers.
In this state of mind, he was very glad to hear a friendly voice shout
in his rear, and propose to him a partner on the road. He slackened his
pace, and was quickly joined by a youth well known to him, a gentleman
of some fortune in that remote country, and who had been abroad on the
same errand with himself. Young Earnscliff, "of that ilk," had
lately come of age, and succeeded to a moderate fortune, a good deal
dilapidated, from the share his family had taken in the disturbances
of the period. They were much and generally respected in the country;
a reputation which this young gentleman seemed likely to sustain, as he
was well educated, and of excellent dispositions.
"Now, Earnscliff;" exclaimed Hobbie, "I am glad to meet your honour
ony gate, and company's blithe on a bare moor like this - it's an unco
bogilly bit - Where hae ye been sporting?"
"Up the Carla Cleugh, Hobbie," answered Earnscliff, returning his
greeting. "But will our dogs keep the peace, think you?"
"Deil a fear o' mine," said Hobbie, "they hae scarce a leg to stand
on. - Odd! the deer's fled the country, I think! I have been as far
as Inger-fell-foot, and deil a horn has Hobbie seen, excepting three
red-wud raes, that never let me within shot of them, though I gaed
a mile round to get up the wind to them, an' a'. Deil o' me wad care
muckle, only I wanted some venison to our auld gude-dame. The carline,
she sits in the neuk yonder, upbye, and cracks about the grand shooters
and hunters lang syne - Odd, I think they hae killed a' the deer in the
country, for my part."
"Well, Hobbie, I have shot a fat buck, and sent him to Earnscliff this
morning - you shall have half of him for your grandmother."
"Mony thanks to ye, Mr. Patrick, ye're kend to a' the country for a kind
heart. It will do the auld wife's heart gude - mair by token, when she
kens it comes frae you - and maist of a' gin ye'll come up and take your
share, for I reckon ye are lonesome now in the auld tower, and a' your
folk at that weary Edinburgh. I wonder what they can find to do amang
a wheen ranks o' stane-houses wi' slate on the tap o' them, that might
live on their ain bonny green hills."
"My education and my sisters' has kept my mother much in Edinburgh for
several years," said Earnscliff; "but I promise you I propose to make up
for lost time."
"And ye'll rig out the auld tower a bit," said Hobbie, "and live
hearty and neighbour-like wi' the auld family friends, as the Laird o'
Earnscliff should? I can tell ye, my mother - my grandmother I mean - but,
since we lost our ain mother, we ca' her sometimes the tane, and
sometimes the tother - but, ony gate, she conceits hersell no that
distant connected wi' you."
"Very true, Hobbie, and I will come to the Heugh-foot to dinner
to-morrow with all my heart."
"Weel, that's kindly said! We are auld neighbours, an we were nae
kin - and my gude-dame's fain to see you - she clavers about your father
that was killed lang syne."
"Hush, hush, Hobbie - not a word about that - it's a story better
forgotten."
"I dinna ken - if it had chanced amang our folk, we wad hae keepit it in
mind mony a day till we got some mends for't - but ye ken your ain ways
best, you lairds - I have heard say that Ellieslaw's friend stickit your
sire after the laird himsell had mastered his sword."
"Fie, fie, Hobbie; it was a foolish brawl, occasioned by wine and
politics - many swords were drawn - it is impossible to say who struck the
blow."
"At ony rate, auld Ellieslaw was aiding and abetting; and I am sure if
ye were sae disposed as to take amends on him, naebody could say it was
wrang, for your father's blood is beneath his nails - and besides there's
naebody else left that was concerned to take amends upon, and he's a
prelatist and a jacobite into the bargain - I can tell ye the country
folk look for something atween ye."
"O for shame, Hobbie!" replied the young Laird; "you, that profess
religion, to stir your friend up to break the law, and take vengeance
at his own hand, and in such a bogilly bit too, where we know not what
beings may be listening to us!"
"Hush, hush!" said Hobbie, drawing nearer to his companion, "I was nae
thinking o' the like o' them - But I can guess a wee bit what keeps your
hand up, Mr. Patrick; we a' ken it's no lack o' courage, but the twa
grey een of a bonny lass, Miss Isabel Vere, that keeps you sae sober."
"I assure you, Hobbie," said his companion, rather angrily, "I assure
you you are mistaken; and it is extremely wrong of you, either to think
of, or to utter, such an idea; I have no idea of permitting freedoms to
be carried so far as to connect my name with that of any young lady."
"Why, there now - there now!" retorted Elliot; "did I not say it was nae
want o' spunk that made ye sae mim? - Weel, weel, I meant nae offence;
but there's just ae thing ye may notice frae a friend. The auld Laird
of Ellieslaw has the auld riding blood far hetter at his heart than ye
hae - troth, he kens naething about thae newfangled notions o' peace and
quietness - he's a' for the auld-warld doings o' lifting and laying on,
and he has a wheen stout lads at his back too, and keeps them weel up in
heart, and as fu' o' mischief as young colts. Where he gets the gear to
do't nane can say; he lives high, and far abune his rents here; however,
he pays his way - Sae, if there's ony out-break in the country, he's
likely to break out wi' the first - and weel does he mind the auld
quarrels between ye, I'm surmizing he'll be for a touch at the auld
tower at Earnscliff."
"Well, Hobbie," answered the young gentleman, "if he should be so ill
advised, I shall try to make the old tower good against him, as it has
been made good by my betters against his betters many a day ago."
"Very right - very right - that's speaking like a man now," said the stout
yeoman; "and, if sae should be that this be sae, if ye'll just gar your
servant jow out the great bell in the tower, there's me, and my twa
brothers, and little Davie of the Stenhouse, will be wi' you, wi' a' the
power we can make, in the snapping of a flint."
"Many thanks, Hobbie," answered Earnscliff; "but I hope we shall have no
war of so unnatural and unchristian a kind in our time."
"Hout, sir, hout," replied Elliot; "it wad be but a wee bit neighbour
war, and Heaven and earth would make allowances for it in this
uncultivated place - it's just the nature o' the folk and the land - we
canna live quiet like Loudon folk - we haena sae muckle to do. It's
impossible."
"Well, Hobbie," said the Laird, "for one who believes so deeply as you
do in supernatural appearances, I must own you take Heaven in your own
hand rather audaciously, considering where we are walking."
"What needs I care for the Mucklestane-Moor ony mair than ye do
yoursell, Earnscliff?" said Hobbie, something offended; "to be sure,
they do say there's a sort o' worricows and lang-nebbit things about the
land, but what need I care for them? I hae a good conscience, and little
to answer for, unless it be about a rant amang the lasses, or a splore
at a fair, and that's no muckle to speak of. Though I say it mysell, I
am as quiet a lad and as peaceable - "
"And Dick Turnbull's head that you broke, and Willie of Winton whom you
shot at?" said his travelling companion.
"Hout, Earnscliff, ye keep a record of a' men's misdoings - Dick's head's
healed again, and we're to fight out the quarrel at Jeddart, on the
Rood-day, so that's like a thing settled in a peaceable way; and then I
am friends wi' Willie again, puir chield - it was but twa or three hail
draps after a'. I wad let onybody do the like o't to me for a pint o'
brandy. But Willie's lowland bred, poor fallow, and soon frighted for
himsell - And, for the worricows, were we to meet ane on this very bit - "
"As is not unlikely," said young Earnscliff, "for there stands your old
witch, Hobbie."
"I say," continued Elliot, as if indignant at this hint - "I say, if the
auld carline hersell was to get up out o' the grund just before us here,
I would think nae mair - But, gude preserve us, Earnscliff; what can yon,
be!"
CHAPTER III.
Brown Dwarf, that o'er the moorland strays,
Thy name to Keeldar tell!
"The Brown Man of the Moor, that stays
Beneath the heather-bell." - JOHN LEYDEN
The object which alarmed the young farmer in the middle of his valorous
protestations, startled for a moment even his less prejudiced companion.
The moon, which had arisen during their conversation, was, in the phrase
of that country, wading or struggling with clouds, and shed only a
doubtful and occasional light. By one of her beams, which streamed upon
the great granite column to which they now approached, they discovered
a form, apparently human, but of a size much less than ordinary, which
moved slowly among the large grey stones, not like a person intending
to journey onward, but with the slow, irregular, flitting movement of a
being who hovers around some spot of melancholy recollection, uttering
also, from time to time, a sort of indistinct muttering sound. This so
much resembled his idea of the motions of an apparition, that Hobbie
Elliot, making a dead pause, while his hair erected itself upon his
scalp, whispered to his companion, "It's Auld Ailie hersell! Shall I gie
her a shot, in the name of God?"
"For Heaven's sake, no," said his companion, holding down the weapon
which he was about to raise to the aim - "for Heaven's sake, no; it's
some poor distracted creature."
"Ye're distracted yoursell, for thinking of going so near to her," said
Elliot, holding his companion in his turn, as he prepared to advance.
"We'll aye hae time to pit ower a bit prayer (an I could but mind ane)
afore she comes this length - God! she's in nae hurry," continued he,
growing bolder from his companion's confidence, and the little notice
the apparition seemed to take of them. "She hirples like a hen on a het
girdle. I redd ye, Earnscliff" (this he added in a gentle whisper), "let
us take a cast about, as if to draw the wind on a buck - the bog is no
abune knee-deep, and better a saft road as bad company." [The Scots use
the epithet soft, IN MALAM PARTEM, in two cases, at least. A SOFT road
is a road through quagmire and bogs; and SOFT weather signifies that
which is very rainy.]
Earnscliff, however, in spite of his companion's resistance and
remonstrances, continued to advance on the path they had originally
pursued, and soon confronted the object of their investigation.
The height of the figure, which appeared even to decrease as they
approached it, seemed to be under four feet, and its form, as far as the
imperfect light afforded them the means of discerning, was very nearly
as broad as long, or rather of a spherical shape, which could only
be occasioned by some strange personal deformity. The young sportsman
hailed this extraordinary appearance twice, without receiving any
answer, or attending to the pinches by which his companion endeavoured
to intimate that their best course was to walk on, without giving
farther disturbance to a being of such singular and preternatural
exterior. To the third repeated demand of "Who are you? What do you here
at this hour of night?" - a voice replied, whose shrill, uncouth, and
dissonant tones made Elliot step two paces back, and startled even his
companion, "Pass on your way, and ask nought at them that ask nought at
you."
"What do you do here so far from shelter? Are you benighted on your
journey? Will you follow us home ('God forbid!' ejaculated Hobbie
Elliot, involuntarily), and I will give you a lodging?"
"I would sooner lodge by mysell in the deepest of the Tarras-flow,"
again whispered Hobbie.
"Pass on your way," rejoined the figure, the harsh tones of his voice
still more exalted by passion. "I want not your guidance - I want not
your lodging - it is five years since my head was under a human roof, and
I trust it was for the last time."
"He is mad," said Earnscliff.
"He has a look of auld Humphrey Ettercap, the tinkler, that perished
in this very moss about five years syne," answered his superstitious
companion; "but Humphrey wasna that awfu' big in the bouk."
"Pass on your way," reiterated the object of their curiosity, "the
breath of your human bodies poisons the air around me - the sound of pour
human voices goes through my ears like sharp bodkins."
"Lord safe us!" whispered Hobbie, "that the dead should bear sie fearfu'
ill-will to the living! - his saul maun be in a puir way, I'm jealous."
"Come, my friend," said Earnscliff, "you seem to suffer under some
strong affliction; common humanity will not allow us to leave you here."
"Common humanity!" exclaimed the being, with a scornful laugh that
sounded like a shriek, "where got ye that catch-word - that noose for
woodcocks - that common disguise for man-traps - that bait which the
wretched idiot who swallows, will soon find covers a hook with barbs ten
times sharper than those you lay for the animals which you murder for
your luxury!"
"I tell you, my friend," again replied Earnscliff, "you are incapable of
judging of your own situation - you will perish in this wilderness, and
we must, in compassion, force you along with us."
"I'll hae neither hand nor foot in't," said Hobbie; "let the ghaist take
his ain way, for God's sake!"
"My blood be on my own head, if I perish here," said the figure; and,
observing Earnscliff meditating to lay hold on him, he added, "And
your blood be upon yours, if you touch but the skirt of my garments, to
infect me with the taint of mortality!"
The moon shone more brightly as he spoke thus, and Earnscliff observed
that he held out his right hand armed with some weapon of offence, which
glittered in the cold ray like the blade of a long knife, or the barrel
of a pistol. It would have been madness to persevere in his attempt upon
a being thus armed, and holding such desperate language, especially as
it was plain he would have little aid from his companion, who had fairly
left him to settle matters with the apparition as he could, and had
proceeded a few paces on his way homeward. Earnscliff, however, turned
and followed Hobbie, after looking back towards the supposed maniac,
who, as if raised to frenzy by the interview, roamed wildly around the
great stone, exhausting his voice in shrieks and imprecations, that
thrilled wildly along the waste heath.
The two sportsmen moved on some time in silence, until they were out
of hearing of these uncouth sounds, which was not ere they had gained a
considerable distance from the pillar that gave name to the moor. Each
made his private comments on the scene they had witnessed, until Hobbie
Elliot suddenly exclaimed, "Weel, I'll uphaud that yon ghaist, if it
be a ghaist, has baith done and suffered muckle evil in the flesh, that
gars him rampauge in that way after he is dead and gane."
"It seems to me the very madness of misanthropy," said Earnscliff;
following his own current of thought.
"And ye didna think it was a spiritual creature, then?" asked Hobbie at
his companion.
"Who, I? - No, surely."
"Weel, I am partly of the mind mysell that it may be a live thing - and
yet I dinna ken, I wadna wish to see ony thing look liker a bogle."
"At any rate," said Earnscliff, "I will ride over to-morrow and see what
has become of the unhappy being."
"In fair daylight?" queried the yeoman; "then, grace o' God, I'se be
wi' ye. But here we are nearer to Heugh-foot than to your house by twa
mile, - hadna ye better e'en gae hame wi' me, and we'll send the callant
on the powny to tell them that you are wi' us, though I believe there's
naebody at hame to wait for you but the servants and the cat."
"Have with you then, friend Hobbie," said the young hunter; "and as I
would not willingly have either the servants be anxious, or puss forfeit
her supper, in my absence, I'll be obliged to you to send the boy as you
propose."
"Aweel, that IS kind, I must say. And ye'll gae hame to Heugh-foot?
They'll be right blithe to see you, that will they."
This affair settled, they walked briskly on a little farther, when,
coming to the ridge of a pretty steep hill, Hobbie Elliot exclaimed,
"Now, Earnscliff, I am aye glad when I come to this very bit - Ye see
the light below, that's in the ha' window, where grannie, the gash auld
carline, is sitting birling at her wheel - and ye see yon other light
that's gaun whiddin' back and forrit through amang the windows? that's
my cousin, Grace Armstrong, - she's twice as clever about the house as my
sisters, and sae they say themsells, for they're good-natured lasses as
ever trode on heather; but they confess themsells, and sae does grannie,
that she has far maist action, and is the best goer about the toun, now
that grannie is off the foot hersell. - My brothers, ane o' them's away
to wait upon the chamberlain, and ane's at Moss-phadraig, that's our led
farm - he can see after the stock just as weel as I can do."
"You are lucky, my good friend, in having so many valuable relations."
"Troth am I - Grace make me thankful, I'se never deny it. - But will
ye tell me now, Earnscliff, you that have been at college, and the
high-school of Edinburgh, and got a' sort o' lair where it was to
be best gotten - will ye tell me - no that it's ony concern of mine in
particular, - but I heard the priest of St. John's, and our minister,
bargaining about it at the Winter fair, and troth they baith spak very
weel - Now, the priest says it's unlawful to marry ane's cousin; but I
cannot say I thought he brought out the Gospel authorities half sae weel
as our minister - our minister is thought the best divine and the best
preacher atween this and Edinburgh - Dinna ye think he was likely to be
right?"
"Certainly marriage, by all protestant Christians, is held to be as free
as God made it by the Levitical law; so, Hobbie, there can be no bar,
legal or religious, betwixt you and Miss Armstrong."
"Hout awa' wi' your joking, Earnscliff," replied his companion, - "ye
are angry aneugh yoursell if ane touches you a bit, man, on the sooth
side of the jest - No that I was asking the question about Grace, for ye
maun ken she's no my cousin-germain out and out, but the daughter of
my uncle's wife by her first marriage, so she's nae kith nor kin to
me - only a connexion like. But now we're at the Sheeling-hill - I'll fire
off my gun, to let them ken I'm coming, that's aye my way; and if I hae
a deer I gie them twa shots, ane for the deer and ane for mysell."
He fired off his piece accordingly, and the number of lights were
seen to traverse the house, and even to gleam before it. Hobbie Elliot
pointed out one of these to Earnscliff, which seemed to glide from the
house towards some of the outhouses-"That's Grace hersell," said Hobbie.
"She'll no meet me at the door, I'se warrant her - but she'll be awa',
for a' that, to see if my hounds' supper be ready, poor beasts."
"Love me, love my dog," answered Earnscliff. "Ah, Hobbie, you are a
lucky young fellow!"
This observation was uttered with something like a sigh, which
apparently did not escape the ear of his companion.
"Hout, other folk may be as lucky as I am - O how I have seen Miss Isabel
Vere's head turn after somebody when they passed ane another at the
Carlisle races! Wha kens but things may come round in this world?"
Earnscliff muttered something like an answer; but whether in assent of
the proposition, or rebuking the application of it, could not easily be
discovered; and it seems probable that the speaker himself was willing
his meaning should rest in doubt and obscurity. They had now descended
the broad loaning, which, winding round the foot of the steep bank,
or heugh, brought them in front of the thatched, but comfortable,
farm-house, which was the dwelling of Hobbie Elliot and his family.
The doorway was thronged with joyful faces; but the appearance of a
stranger blunted many a gibe which had been prepared on Hobbie's lack
of success in the deer-stalking. There was a little bustle among three
handsome young women, each endeavouring to devolve upon another the task
of ushering the stranger into the apartment, while probably all were
anxious to escape for the purpose of making some little personal
arrangements, before presenting themselves to a young gentleman in a
dishabille only intended for their brother.
Hobbie, in the meanwhile, bestowing some hearty and general abuse upon
them all (for Grace was not of the party), snatched the candle from the
hand of one of the rustic coquettes, as she stood playing pretty with
it in her hand, and ushered his guest into the family parlour, or rather
hall; for the place having been a house of defence in former times, the
sitting apartment was a vaulted and paved room, damp and dismal enough
compared with the lodgings of the yeomanry of our days, but which, when
well lighted up with a large sparkling fire of turf and bog-wood, seemed
to Earnscliff a most comfortable exchange for the darkness and bleak
blast of the hill. Kindly and repeatedly was he welcomed by the
venerable old dame, the mistress of the family, who, dressed in her
coif and pinners, her close and decent gown of homespun wool, but with a
large gold necklace and ear-rings, looked, what she really was, the lady
as well as the farmer's wife, while, seated in her chair of wicker, by
the corner of the great chimney, she directed the evening occupations
of the young women, and of two or three stout serving wenches, who sate
plying their distaffs behind the backs of their young mistresses.
As soon as Earnscliff had been duly welcomed, and hasty orders issued
for some addition to the evening meal, his grand-dame and sisters opened
their battery upon Hobbie Elliot for his lack of success against the
deer.
"Jenny needna have kept up her kitchen-fire for a' that Hobbie has
brought hame," said one sister.
"Troth no, lass," said another; "the gathering peat, if it was weel
blawn, wad dress a' our Hobbie's venison." [The gathering peat is the
piece of turf left to treasure up the secret seeds of fire, without any
generous consumption of fuel; in a word, to keep the fire alive.]
"Ay, or the low of the candle, if the wind wad let it hide steady," said
a third; "if I were him, I would bring hame a black craw, rather than
come back three times without a buck's horn to blaw on."
Hobbie turned from the one to the other, regarding them alternately
with a frown on his brow, the augury of which was confuted by the
good-humoured laugh on the lower part of his countenance. He then strove
to propitiate them, by mentioning the intended present of his companion.
"In my young days," said the old lady, "a man wad hae been ashamed
to come back frae the hill without a buck hanging on each side o' his
horse, like a cadger carrying calves."
"I wish they had left some for us then, grannie," retorted Hobbie;
"they've cleared the country o' them, thae auld friends o' yours, I'm
thinking."
"We see other folk can find game, though you cannot, Hobbie," said the
eldest sister, glancing a look at young Earnscliff.
"Weel, weel, woman, hasna every dog his day, begging Earnscliff's
pardon for the auld saying - Mayna I hae his luck, and he mine, another
time? - It's a braw thing for a man to be out a' day, and frighted - na, I
winna say that neither but mistrysted wi' bogles in the hame-coming, an'
then to hae to flyte wi' a wheen women that hae been doing naething a'
the live-lang day, but whirling a bit stick, wi' a thread trailing at
it, or boring at a clout."
"Frighted wi' bogles!" exclaimed the females, one and all, - for great
was the regard then paid, and perhaps still paid, in these glens, to all
such fantasies.
"I did not say frighted, now - I only said mis-set wi' the thing - And
there was but ae bogle, neither - Earnscliff, ye saw it; as weel as I
did?"
And he proceeded, without very much exaggeration, to detail, in his own
way, the meeting they had with the mysterious being at Mucklestane-Moor,
concluding, he could not conjecture what on earth it could be, unless it
was either the Enemy himsell, or some of the auld Peghts that held the
country lang syne.
"Auld Peght!" exclaimed the grand-dame; "na, na - bless thee frae scathe,
my bairn, it's been nae Peght that - it's been the Brown Man of the
Moors! O weary fa' thae evil days! - what can evil beings be coming for
to distract a poor country, now it's peacefully settled, and living in
love and law - O weary on him! he ne'er brought gude to these lands or
the indwellers. My father aften tauld me he was seen in the year o' the
bloody fight at Marston-Moor, and then again in Montrose's troubles, and
again before the rout o' Dunbar, and, in my ain time, he was seen about
the time o' Bothwell-Brigg, and they said the second-sighted Laird of
Benarbuck had a communing wi' him some time afore Argyle's landing,
but that I cannot speak to sae preceesely - it was far in the west. - O,
bairns, he's never permitted but in an ill time, sae mind ilka ane o' ye
to draw to Him that can help in the day of trouble."
Earnscliff now interposed, and expressed his firm conviction that the
person they had seen was some poor maniac, and had no commission from
the invisible world to announce either war or evil. But his opinion
found a very cold audience, and all joined to deprecate his purpose of
returning to the spot the next day.
"O, my bonny bairn," said the old dame (for, in the kindness of
her heart, she extended her parental style to all in whom she was
interested) - -"You should beware mair than other folk - there's been a
heavy breach made in your house wi' your father's bloodshed, and wi'
law-pleas, and losses sinsyne; - and you are the flower of the flock, and
the lad that will build up the auld bigging again (if it be His will)
to be an honour to the country, and a safeguard to those that dwell
in it - you, before others, are called upon to put yoursell in no rash
adventures - for yours was aye ower venturesome a race, and muckle harm
they have got by it."
"But I am sure, my good friend, you would not have me be afraid of going
to an open moor in broad daylight?"
"I dinna ken," said the good old dame; "I wad never bid son or friend o'
mine haud their hand back in a gude cause, whether it were a friend's or
their ain - that should be by nae bidding of mine, or of ony body that's
come of a gentle kindred - But it winna gang out of a grey head like
mine, that to gang to seek for evil that's no fashing wi' you, is clean
against law and Scripture."
Earnscliff resigned an argument which he saw no prospect of maintaining
with good effect, and the entrance of supper broke off the conversation.
Miss Grace had by this time made her appearance, and Hobbie, not without
a conscious glance at Earnscliff, placed himself by her side. Mirth
and lively conversation, in which the old lady of the house took the
good-humoured share which so well becomes old age, restored to the
cheeks of the damsels the roses which their brother's tale of the
apparition had chased away, and they danced and sung for an hour after
supper as if there were no such things as goblins in the world.
CHAPTER IV.
I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind;
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something. - TIMON OF ATHENS
On the following morning, after breakfast, Earnscliff took leave of
his hospitable friends, promising to return in time to partake of the
venison, which had arrived from his house. Hobbie, who apparently took
leave of him at the door of his habitation, slunk out, however, and
joined him at the top of the hill.
"Ye'll be gaun yonder, Mr. Patrick; feind o' me will mistryst you for
a' my mother says. I thought it best to slip out quietly though, in case
she should mislippen something of what we're gaun to do - we maunna vex
her at nae rate - it was amaist the last word my father said to me on his
deathbed."
"By no means, Hobbie," said Earnscliff; "she well merits all your
attention."
"Troth, for that matter, she would be as sair vexed amaist for you as
for me. But d'ye really think there's nae presumption in venturing back
yonder? - We hae nae special commission, ye ken."
"If I thought as you do, Hobbie," said the young gentleman, "I would not
perhaps enquire farther into this business; but as I am of opinion that
preternatural visitations are either ceased altogether, or become very
rare in our days, I am unwilling to leave a matter uninvestigated which
may concern the life of a poor distracted being."
"Aweel, aweel, if ye really think that," answered Hobbie
doubtfully - "And it's for certain the very fairies - I mean the very good
neighbours themsells (for they say folk suldna ca' them fairies) that
used to be seen on every green knowe at e'en, are no half sae often
visible in our days. I canna depone to having ever seen ane mysell, but,
I ance heard ane whistle ahint me in the moss, as like a whaup [Curlew]
as ae thing could be like anither. And mony ane my father saw when he
used to come hame frae the fairs at e'en, wi' a drap drink in his head,
honest man."
Earnscliff was somewhat entertained with the gradual declension of
superstition from one generation to another which was inferred In this
last observation; and they continued to reason on such subjects, until
they came in sight of the upright stone which gave name to the moor.
"As I shall answer," says Hobbie, "yonder's the creature creeping about
yet! - But it's daylight, and you have your gun, and I brought out my bit
whinger - I think we may venture on him."
"By all manner of means," said Earnscliff; "but, in the name of wonder,
what can he be doing there?"
"Biggin a dry-stane dyke, I think, wi' the grey geese, as they ca' thae
great loose stanes - Odd, that passes a' thing I e'er heard tell of!"
As they approached nearer, Earnscliff could not help agreeing with his
companion. The figure they had seen the night before seemed slowly and
toilsomely labouring to pile the large stones one upon another, as if
to form a small enclosure. Materials lay around him in great plenty, but
the labour of carrying on the work was immense, from the size of most of
the stones; and it seemed astonishing that he should have succeeded in
moving several which he had already arranged for the foundation of his
edifice. He was struggling to move a fragment of great size when the two
young men came up, and was so intent upon executing his purpose, that
he did not perceive them till they were close upon him. In straining
and heaving at the stone, in order to place it according to his wish,
he displayed a degree of strength which seemed utterly inconsistent with
his size and apparent deformity. Indeed, to judge from the difficulties
he had already surmounted, he must have been of Herculean powers; for
some of the stones he had succeeded in raising apparently required two