d what has befallen there."

"Aweel, aweel," said Hobbie, mounting his horse, "it serves naething to
strive wi' cripples,--they are aye cankered; but I'll just tell ye
ae thing, neighbour, that if things be otherwise than weel wi' Grace
Armstrong, I'se gie you a scouther if there be a tar-barrel in the five
parishes."

So saying, he rode off; and Elshie, after looking at him with a scornful
and indignant laugh, took spade and mattock, and occupied himself in
digging a grave for his deceased favourite.

A low whistle, and the words, "Hisht, Elshie, hisht!" disturbed him
in this melancholy occupation. He looked up, and the Red Reiver of
Westburnflat was before him. Like Banquo's murderer, there was blood on
his face, as well as upon the rowels of his spurs and the sides of his
over-ridden horse.

"How now, ruffian!" demanded the Dwarf, "is thy job chared?"

"Ay, ay, doubt not that, Elshie," answered the freebooter; "When I
ride, my foes may moan. They have had mair light than comfort at the
Heugh-foot this morning; there's a toom byre and a wide, and a wail and
a cry for the bonny bride."

"The bride?"

"Ay; Charlie Cheat-the-Woodie, as we ca' him, that's Charlie Foster of
Tinning Beck, has promised to keep her in Cumberland till the blast blaw
by. She saw me, and kend me in the splore, for the mask fell frae my
face for a blink. I am thinking it wad concern my safety if she were
to come back here, for there's mony o' the Elliots, and they band weel
thegither for right or wrang. Now, what I chiefly come to ask your rede
in, is how to make her sure?"

"Wouldst thou murder her, then?"

"Umph! no, no; that I would not do, if I could help it. But they say
they can whiles get folk cannily away to the plantations from some of
the outports, and something to boot for them that brings a bonny wench.
They're wanted beyond seas thae female cattle, and they're no that
scarce here. But I think o' doing better for this lassie. There's a
leddy, that, unless she be a' the better bairn, is to be sent to foreign
parts whether she will or no; now, I think of sending Grace to wait on
her--she's a bonny lassie. Hobbie will hae a merry morning when he comes
hame, and misses baith bride and gear."

"Ay; and do you not pity him?" said the Recluse.

"Wad he pity me were I gaeing up the Castle hill at Jeddart? [ The
place of execution at that ancient burgh, where many of Westburnflat's
profession have made their final exit.] And yet