uncertainty was awful; even the ascertained reality of death, partial or
universal, had perhaps less of soul-benumbing cold in it than this
inconceivable suspense. It required Willie Wilson's utmost efforts and
mine to keep the frantic woman from madly rushing into the drift; and
the voice of lamentation was sad and loud amongst the children and the
servant lasses--each of the latter class lamented, indeed, the fate of
all, but there was always an under prayer offered up for the safety of
Geordie, or Will, or Jamie, in particular. At last the three lads who
had encompassed the Dod arrived--alive, indeed, but almost breathless
and frozen to death. They had, however, surmounted incredible
difficulties, and had succeeded in placing their hirsel in a position of
comparative security; but where were Jamie Hogg and the guidman? The
violence of the storm had nothing abated, the snow was every moment
accumulating, and the danger and difficulty increasing tenfold. Spirits,
heat, and friction gradually restored the three lads to their senses,
and to the kind attentions of their several favourites of the female
order; but _there_ sat the mother and the daughter, whilst the father
was either, in all probability, dead or dying. The very thought was
distracting; and, accordingly, the young bride, now turning to her lover
with a look of inexpressible anguish, exclaimed--

"O Willie! my ain dear Willie, ye maun gang, after a', ye maun gang this
instant," (Willie was on his feet and plaided whilst yet the sentence
was unfinished,) "and try to rescue my dear, dear faither from this
awfu' and untimely end; but tak care, oh tak care o' the big Scaur, and
keep far west by Caplecleuch, and maybe ye'll meet them coming back that
way." These last words were lost in the drift, whilst Willie Wilson,
with his faithful follower, Rover, were penetrating, and flouncing, and
floundering their way towards the place pointed out.

In about half an hour after this, the howl and scratch of a dog were
heard at the door-back, and Help immediately rushed in, the welcome
forerunner of his master and Hogg. They had, indeed, had a fearful
struggle, and fearful wanderings; but, in endeavouring to avoid the
dangerous, because precipitous, Head Scaur, they had wandered from the
track, and from the object of their travel; and, after having been
inclined once or twice to lie down and take a rest (the deceitful
messenger of death), they had at last got upon the trac