And having uttered this oracle, old Andy replaced his pipe between his lips, and smoked vigorously to make up for lost time.
“Ye hear what the gudeman says? Hark ye now to the wisdom of age, and bide ye quiet till I make ye a bed, and I’ll wrap ye weel and pit ye warm to sleep the night, and in the morn ye may gae where ye like.”
“Thanks—a thousand thanks for your dear mercy! but in the morning it will be too late. Ah, heaven, yes!” exclaimed the girl, as a sudden terror wildly dilated her large gray eyes. “I must go on to-night, or fail, where failure would be despair and death!”
“Gae on to-night! Gude save us! gae on where?” exclaimed the wondering woman.
“To Old Lyon Hall,” answered the stranger, moving towards the door.
“Stay—come back! Ye are stark daft! To the Hall?” cried Jenny, following her guest.
“Yes, to the old Hall,” said the stranger, pausing courteously.
“Why, that’s where the grand wedding will be the night.”
“I know it,” said the girl.
“But—ye’ll surely no be one o’ the invited guests?” exclaimed Jenny in bewilderment.