As he spake a white figure, evidently that of a woman in a long dress, appeared on the opposite bank of the stream, and beckoned repeatedly to the troopers to attempt the ford.
"'Tis the keeper's wife," said one; "I ken the carlin weel by her lang luggit mutch."
"'Tis the Kelpie—beware, beware!" said another, while their horses trembled, kicked, and plunged, and their eyes shot fire, as a deadly terror seemed to possess them—a terror easily communicated to their superstitious riders.
Still the figure pointed to the ford and beckoned impatiently.
"Thank you, mistress," cried Hailes; "but we would rather not attempt it; so instantly open the gate."
But she continued to beckon, and her voice, if she used it, was lost in the howling of the wind and the hoarse roaring of the stream; so, finding their horses were becoming quite unmanageable, Lord Home lost his temper, a commodity which he was ever losing and long of recovering.
"Hag!" he exclaimed; "undo the gate, or begone at once to hell!"
On this, it is related, a wild shriek was heard, and the white wavering figure disappeared.
At the same moment, the warder came hurriedly and opened the barrier.
"Wretched varlet!" said the imperious Home, giving the man a blow with his clenched hand; "thou hast kept us waiting long enough; why did not that hag of thine open the gate, instead of seeking to wile us by the ford?"