“Maybe,” said I, lending in my word—“maybe she had grown demented, and thrown herself in i’ the dark.”
“Or maybe,” said Tammie, “the deil flew away wi’ her in a flash o’ fire; and, soosing her down frae the lift, she landit in that hole, where she was fund floating. But—wo!—wo!” cried he to his horse, coming across its side with his whip—“We maun be canny; for this brig has a sharp turn (it was the Cow Brig, ye know), and many a one, both horse and man, have got their necks broken, by not being wary enough of that corner.”
This made me a thought timorous, having the bit laddie Benjie fast asleep in my arms; and as I saw that Tammie’s horse was a wee fidgety, and glad, I
dare say, poor thing, to find itself so near home. We heard the water, far down below, roaring and hushing over the rocks, and thro’ among the Duke’s woods—big, thick, black trees, that threw their branches, like giant’s arms, half across the Esk, making all below as gloomy as midnight; while over the tops of them, high, high aboon, the bonnie wee starries were twink-twinkling far amid the blue. But there was no end to Tammie’s tongue.
“Weel,” said he, “speaking o’ the brig, I’ll tell you a gude story about that. Auld Jamie Bowie, the potato merchant, that lived at the Gate-end, had a horse and cart that met wi’ an accident just at the turn o’ the corner yonder; and up cam a chield sair forfaughten, and a’ out of breath, to Jamie’s door, crying like the prophet Jeremiah to the auld Jews, ‘Rin, rin away doun to the Cow Brig; for your cart’s dung to shivers, and the driver’s killed, as weel as the horse!’
“James ran in for his hat; but as he was coming out at the door, he met another messenger, such as came running across the plain to David, to acquaint him of the death of Absalom, crying, ‘Rin away doun, Jamie, rin away doun; your cart is standing yonder, without either horse or driver; for they’re baith killed!’
“Jamie thanked Heaven that the cart was to the fore; then, rinning back for his stick, which he had forgotten, he stopped a moment to bid his wife not
greet so loud, and was then rushing out in full birr, when he ran foul of a third chield, that mostly knocked doun the door in his hurry. ‘Awfu’ news, man, awfu’ news,’ was the way o’t, with this second Eliphaz the Temanite. ‘Your cart and horse ran away—and threw the driver, puir fellow, clean owre the brig into the water. No a crunch o’ him is to be seen or heard tell of; for he was a’ smashed to pieces!! It’s an awfu’ business!’
“‘But where’s the horse? and where’s the cart, then?’ askit Jamie, a thought brisker. ‘Where’s the horse and cart, then, my man? Can ye tell me ought of that?’
“‘Ou,’ said he, ‘they’re baith doun at the Toll yonder, no a hair the waur.’