“For a fancy to gar fools speer, an’ ye’re the first—Come on now, sir, wi’ your catechis—Wally–dye man! gin ye be nae better a fighter than ye’re an examiner, ye may gie up the craft.”
Bruce here bit his lip, and looked so stern that Nanny, with a hysterical laugh, ran away from him, and took shelter behind Clavers.
“You are a d‑‑d fool, Bruce,” said he, “and constantly blundering.—Our business here, mistress, is to discover, if possible, who were the murderers of an honest curate, and some of our own soldiers that were slain in this neighbourhood while discharging their duty; if you can give us any information on that subject, you shall be well rewarded.”
“Ye’ll hear about the curate, sir—ye’ll hear about him—he was found out to be a warlock, and shot dead.—But ah, dear bairn! nane alive can gie you information about the soldiers!—It was nae human hand did that deed, and there was nae e’e out o’ heaven saw it done—There wasna a man that day in a’ the Hope up an’ down—that deed will never be fund out, unless a spirit rise frae the dead an’ tell o’t—Muckle fear, an’ muckle grief it has been the cause o’ here!—But the men war a’ decently buried; what mair could be done?”
“Do you say that my men were all decently buried?”
“Ay, troth, I wat weel, worthy sir, and wi’ the burial–service too.—My master and mistress are strong king’s folk.”
“So you are not the mistress of this house?”
“A bonny like mistress I wad be, forsooth—Na, na, my mistress is sittin be hersel ben the house there.” With that, Nanny fell a working and singing full loud—
“Little wats she wha’s coming,
Little wats she wha’s coming,
Strath and Correy’s ta’en the bent,
An’ Ferriden an’ a’s coming;
Knock and Craigen Sha’s coming,
Keppoch an’ Macraw’s coming,
Clan–Mackinnon’s ower the Kyle,
An’ Donald Gun an’ a’s coming.”
Anxious now to explore the rest of the house, they left Nanny singing her song, and entered the little parlour hastily, where, finding no one, and dreading that some escape might be effected, Clavers and Livingston burst into the Old Room, and Bruce and Copland into the other. In the Old Room they found the beautiful witch Katharine, with the train of her snow–white joup drawn over her head, who looked as if taken in some evil act by surprise, and greatly confounded when she saw two gentlemen enter her sanctuary in splendid uniforms. As they approached, she made a slight curtsey, to which they deigned no return; but going straight up to her, Clavers seized her by both wrists. “And is it, indeed, true,” said he, “my beautiful shepherdess, that we have caught you at your prayers so early this morning?”