“That’s true,” affirmed Poosie Nancy with a nod of conviction to the others.
“Weel,” continued Tam impressively, “a few miles beyond the Maypole road ye have to pass a dark, uncanny spot, the cairn where the hunters found the murdered bairn. Ye ken the spot, Souter?” turning to him for confirmation.
Souter nodded his head quickly. “Aye, Tam, I ken it weel, for ’twas near there old Mingo’s mother hanged hersel’.” Old Bess looked over her shoulder nervously.
“Aye,” eagerly assented Tam, then he continued, “Weel, a weird sight awaited me there; my blood runs cold noo. Suddenly I heard a sound o’ music and revelry, and Maggie stopped still, frightened stiff. I looked up, and glimmering thro’ the trees was auld Kirk Alloway all a blaze o’ light.” He paused to note the effect of his astounding statement.
They looked at each other disbelievingly. Some turned angrily away, muttering to themselves. Was old Tam making sport of them?
“Go alang, mon,” cried Poosie Nancy with an incredulous sniff of her pug nose. “’Tis naught but an old tumbled down ruin.”
“I’m telling ye gospel truth,” replied Tam earnestly. They crowded around again, ready to be convinced, though still eying him distrustfully.
“Well, I was nae afraid,” continued Tam bashfully, “for I was inspired by bold John Barleycorn, so I rode Maggie close to the wall an’ there thro’ the openin’, I saw inside, and wow! I saw an unco sight!” Tam was becoming warmed up with his recital. The eager, excited faces crowding around him had restored his courage and flattered his vanity. He paused impressively, his eyes fixed and staring, gazing straight past the faces of his listeners as though he saw the unco sight again. He noted with pleasure the frightened glances they gave over their shoulders. Then he proceeded slowly in a sibilant whisper, “There were warlocks and witches dancin’ hornpipes and jigs around the Kirk, dressed only in their sarks. There were open coffins standin’ around like clothespresses, an’ in each coffin stood a corpse holdin’ in its cauld hand a burnin’ light. An’ by that light I saw two span-lang wee unchristened bairns, white and cold upon the holy table.” Tam wiped the sweat off his brow and moistened his dry lips; then he proceeded with his harrowing tale. “Beside the bairns lay a bloody knife wi’ gray hairs still sticking to the heft an’——”
But with a shudder of fear, their faces blanched and drawn, they exclaimed in doubting horror, “Nay!” “Stop!” “Out on ye, mon!” “It’s nae true!” etc. Tam was not to be cut off in the midst of his tale so unceremoniously.
He rose excitedly from his seat and continued rapidly. “The dancers were twisting and turning like snakes, and there in a winnock-bunker sat Auld Nick himsel’, in the shape of a beast, playing the pipes. Och, friends, it was an inspirin’ sight, and in my excitement I yelled out——”