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and, seizing a pair of old fire-tongs, would have amended her motion, by beating out the brains either of her daughter or Jeanie (she did not seem greatly to care which), when her hand was once more arrested by the man whom they called Frank Levitt, who, seizing her by the shoulder, flung her from him with great violence, exclaiming, "What, Mother Damnable--again, and in my sovereign presence!--Hark ye, Madge of Bedlam! get to your hole with your playfellow, or we shall have the devil to pay here, and nothing to pay him with." Madge took Levitt's advice, retreating as fast as she could, and dragging Jeanie along with her into a sort of recess, partitioned off from the rest of the barn, and filled with straw, from which it appeared that it was intended for the purpose of slumber. The moonlight shone, through an open hole, upon a pillion, a pack-saddle, and one or two wallets, the travelling furniture of Madge and her amiable mother.--"Now, saw ye e'er in your life," said Madge, "sae dainty a chamber of deas? see as the moon shines down sae caller on the fresh strae! There's no a pleasanter cell in Bedlam, for as braw a place as it is on the outside.--Were ye ever in Bedlam?" "No," answered Jeanie faintly, appalled by the question, and the way in which it was put, yet willing to soothe her insane companion, being in circumstances so unhappily precarious, that even the society of this gibbering madwoman seemed a species of protection. "Never in Bedlam?" said Madge, as if with some surprise.--"But ye'll hae been in the cells at Edinburgh!" "Never," repeated Jeanie. "Weel, I think thae daft carles the magistrates send naebody to Bedlam but me--thae maun hae an unco respect for me, for whenever I am brought to them, thae aye hae me back to Bedlam. But troth, Jeanie" (she said this in a very confidential tone), "to tell ye my private mind about it, I think ye are at nae great loss; for the keeper's a cross-patch, and he maun hae it a' his ain gate, to be sure, or he makes the place waur than hell. I often tell him he's the daftest in a' the house.--But what are they making sic a skirling for?--Deil ane o' them's get in here--it wadna be mensfu'! I will sit wi' my back again the door; it winna be that easy stirring me." "Madge!"--"Madge!"--"Madge Wildfire!"--"Madge devil! what have ye done with the horse?" was repeatedly asked by the men without. "He's e'en at his supper, puir thing," answered Madge; "deil an ye
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