counterbalanced by the greater burden, and it was
clearly a cast-up whether they would be able to escape the vengeance
that awaited them. But, whatever might be the issue, there was no want
of energy in either hand or heel of the abductor; and he lashed and
spurred his steed more furiously as his fears increased--

"Still looking the sidelong woods among,
Before, around him, and behind;
And aye, whene'er the echo rung,
The steed flew swifter than the wind."

And no less energetic was the fearful pursuer, whose hearty thwacks upon
the curpan of his shaggy cart-tracer, mixed with loud halloos, might be
heard in the distance, awakening the echoes of the silent night. The
lover relished not the appearance, and still less the cries, of the
lusty farmer; and as little apparently did his companion--who, as the
horse increased his speed, grasped her abductor round the waist--wish to
fall into the hands of the enraged pursuer. Away they scoured, and,
"Fear not, Mary--love will distance the old churl," fell from the lips
of the panting lover, in reply to the inspiring pressure of her arms;
while, "Na, na, Robert, flee for the love o' heaven," added more energy
to the spur, and more passion to his breast. They reached the skirts of
the woody Langholm; but it was not the abductor's intention to stop at
his residence, while he was in danger of being overtaken; so, striking
to the left, and dashing into a _corrie_, or deep lirk of a hill, he
stretched on with the flight of desperation. His wish was to clear the
fern brae, as the height was called, and, getting into the thick wood at
the back, make a sudden turn, and elude the quick eye of the farmer; but
the latter kept dashing and bounding on, hallooing in the distance, and
still brandishing his oaken ryss, in the most fearful demonstrations of
a vengeance that would be contented with nothing less, apparently, than
the body of the one, and the life of the other. Still the fond female
turned her eyes behind, and, giving her companion reports of the
progress of the pursuer, kept up his energies and alive his spirit.

"All the work of that accursed old duenna, your mother," muttered he.

"Ay, ay, nae doot, nae doot," rejoined she, and hugged him again more
closely than ever. The turn of the fern hill did not seem, however, to
bring the relief which it promised, for the couple were still within
hail of the redoubted Giles; and his shouting reverberated among the
rocks l