"Come nearer me," he commanded—"there, on the carpet by the fire, where Jeremy can see ye. Ah, it's a grand thing to bring hame a bonnie lass to her ain hoose—her hoose and mine!—
"I'se be the laird o't,
And she'll be the leddy;
She'll be the minnie o't,
And I'se be the daddy!"
Elsie made a dash for the windows, as if to leap out upon the lawn, but the movements of the maniac were far faster. In the wink of an eyelid he had laid aside his melodeon and caught her again by the wrist.
"Na, na," he said, "the like o' that will never, never do! There's nae sense in that ava'! See!"
And leading her to the window he showed her the bars which her grandfather had caused to be put up to guard his treasures. It was as difficult to get out of Deep Moat Grange as to get in. That was what it amounted to, and Elsie recognized it clearly and immediately.
"My grandfather!" she moaned, half crying with pain and disappointment. "Where is he—I want to speak to my grandfather!"
Jeremy made a mysterious sign to command silence, pointed again over his shoulder at the door of the weaving-room, and answered—
"He ben there. But Hobby was in nae guid temper the last time I spak' wi' him. It is better to let him come to a while. He aye does that at the weavin', when he is nettled at onything!"
"But I do not hear the shuttle," objected Elsie. "How am I to know he is there—that you are speaking the truth?"
"Oh, he will hae broken a thread—maybe the silver cord—ye ken he was rinnin' ane through and through, to gar the 'Elsie Stennis' stand oot bonnie on the web! Ech, ay, the silver cord, the gowden bowl, the almond blossom—Hobby could weave them a'—terrible grand at the weavin' is Hobby. But he's an auld man! Maybe he will hae rested a wee. He has but yae candle. Plenty enough, says you, for an auld man. He'll hae fa'en asleep amang the bonnie napery, wi' his head on the beam and his hand that tired it wadna caa the shuttle ony mair!"