abos; "and I wish I were ony gate else!"

The guide opened the carriage door.

"Get in," he said to Bertram, "and remember your promise to the gipsy
wife!"

Through the windows of the coach Dinmont and he could see the village of
Portanferry, and indeed the whole landscape, brilliantly lighted by a
tall column of light. The flames had caught the stores of spirits kept
in the custom-house. But soon the carriage turned sharply through dark
woods at the top speed of the horses, and, after a long journey, finally
drew up in front of a mansion, in the windows of which lights still
burned, in spite of the lateness of the hour.

* * * * *

The listening children remained breathless as I
paused. I had meant this to be the end of my tale,
but I saw at once that no excuse would be held
valid for such a shameful dereliction of duty.

"Go on--go on," they cried; "where was the house
and what happened?"

"I know!" said Sweetheart; "it was the house of
Julia Mannering, and her lover--"

"Oh, bother her lover," cried Hugh John,
impatiently; "_we_ don't want to hear about how
they lived happy ever after. Tell us about the
gipsy, Meg Merrilies--"

"And about Dirk Hatteraick!" said Sir Toady Lion,
getting his word in. "I just love Dirk!"

"And how many people he killed wif his big knife,
and if he was burnt up alive in the fire!" For Maid
Margaret also delights in the most gory details,
though she would not willingly tread upon a worm.

"Yes, go on, tell us all--everything that
happened!" said Sweetheart.

"But do skip the lovering parts," cried the boys in
chorus.

So within these statutes of limitation I had
perforce to recommence, without further preface,
telling the fourth and last tale from _Guy
Mannering_.

THE FOURTH TALE FROM "GUY MANNERING"

THE FIGHT IN THE CAVE

IMMEDIATELY upon receiving the message of Meg Merrilies, brought by
Dominie Sampson, Colonel Mannering had sent a carriage to the place
designated. Bertram and his companion Dandie, having by the help of the
gipsies, Meg's companions, made good their escape from the burning
custom-house, took their places in it and were whirled through the
darkness, they knew not whither. But it was at the door of the house of
Woodbourne that they found themselves. Mr. Pleydell, the lawyer, had
also arrived from Edinbur