“Dermot! whif-hoo-if!” cried the dog’s master, and, at the same time, whistling shrilly upon his fingers. “Tut! the fiend catch him for me! let him go! I’ll be bound that he’ll be home before us.”
“Come, then, let’s on!” said another, “I wonder much that Grigor Beg hath not come up with us ere this.”
“Hulloah, Grigor!” shouted one of them. “No, no, we’ll not see him so soon, I’ll warrant ye.”
“Come! come away, lads!” said another, moving on with the rest following him. “I’ll be bound that the boddoch hath got a swingeing load upon his back.”
“Awell!” said one of the first speakers, “rather him than me. But we shan’t be the worse of it when it’s well broiled, for all that. I’m sure I wish I had a bit of it at this moment, for I’m famishing. I’m dead tired to-night; I hope that we may have some rest to-morrow. Know ye aught that is to do?”
“I heard the Captain say that”——but the rest of the dialogue was cut off by the distance which the men had by this time reached.
“Thanks be to St. Peter, they are gone at last!” said Patrick Stewart. “How my fingers itched to have a cut at the villains.—Catherine,” continued he, lifting the plaid, and assisting her to rise, “art thou not half dead with terror? But courage, my love. There lies the murderous four-footed savage, whose fell fangs had so nearly been busied with the plaid that covered thee. If we may trust to what we have just heard, there is but one man to come; and, judging by the name of Beg[1] which they gave him, he ought to be no very formidable person. Michael, get thee on a few steps in front, and keep a good look out for him. Were we but out of this narrow place, and fairly into the wider glen of the Aven, we should have less to fear, and then we shall find means to carry thee.”
“Thanks to the Virgin, I am yet strong,” said Catherine. “Let us fly, then, with all speed.”
A farther walk, of a few minutes only, brought them into Glen Aven, and they pursued its downward course, for a considerable length of way, until Patrick Stewart began to perceive something like fatigue in the Lady Catherine’s step. He therefore halted, and made her sit down to rest a while. In the mean time, he and Michael Forbes contrived to hew down two small sapling fir trees, by the aid of their good claymores, and having tied their plaids between them, they, in this manner, very speedily constructed a tolerably easy litter for the lady to recline at length in. This they carried between them, by resting the ends of the poles upon their shoulders, Patrick making Michael Forbes go foremost, and reserving the place behind for himself. I need hardly tell you that the Stewart especially selected that position, for the obvious reason that he might be thereby enabled to cheer the Lady Catherine’s spirits, and to lighten her fatigues, by now and then addressing a word or two of comfort to her as they went. In this manner they pursued their way down the glen, until the loud roar of many waters informed them that they were approaching the grand waterfall, called the Lynn of Aven. You will have ample opportunity of becoming intimately acquainted with all the details of this fine scene, gentlemen, as you go up the glen to-morrow. But in the meanwhile, I may tell you generally, that the whole of this large river, there precipitates itself headlong, through a comparatively narrow chasm in the rocks, into a long, wide, and extremely deep pool below.
The sound increased as the bearers of the litter drew nearer to the waterfall, and the rocky and confined passage, over which they had to make their way, compelled them to walk at greater leisure, and to select their footing with more caution. Fortunately they had now the advantage of the moon, which had been for some time shining favourably upon them, and they were already within a very few steps of coming immediately over the waterfall, when they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful and most unearthly shriek. It came apparently from the very midst of the descending column of water below them.