All eyes were now directed towards the spot he had indicated, and there, to the astonishment of every one, appeared the form of the Franciscan, brightly illumined by the jets of flame that surrounded it.
“Holy Virgin!” cried his followers, crossing themselves, “’tis a sprite—’tis a devil. Mercy on us, ’tis no monk, but something unholy,” cried half-a-dozen voices.
The teeth of the stern Wolfe himself were heard to chatter as he gazed on his old enemy, of the reality of whose present appearance he almost doubted. The keen eyes and strongly expressive countenance of the Friar were now wildly distorted by the alarm which had seized him, on suddenly awaking from the deep sleep he had been plunged in, and finding himself surrounded by all the horrors of the most dreadful of deaths. A red and unearthly light was thrown on his features, and broadly illumined his tonsure, giving him a most terrific and ghastly look. It was, therefore, little to be wondered that even the hardy-minded Wolfe of Badenoch should have for an instant believed that it was the Devil he beheld.
“By all the fiends of hell, ’tis wonderful!” cried he, as he stood fixed in a kind of stupor.
“Help, help!” cried the Franciscan.
“Ha!” cried the Wolfe, recovering himself, “if thou be’st in very deed the chough Friar, bren, bren, and welcome. But if thou be’st the Devil, thou mayest well enow help thyself.”
“Help, in mercy help!” cried the Franciscan; “a ladder, a ladder.”
“A ladder!” cried the Wolfe, now sufficiently reassured, and becoming convinced that it really was the very Franciscan in true flesh who had so bearded him at Lochyndorbe, and no phantom nor demon. “Ha! prating chough, is it thee, in troth? A ladder, saidst thou? Thou couldst have lacked a ladder but [[544]]for thy hanging, and now thou needst it not, seeing thou art in the way of dying a better death.”
“Help, help!” cried the unfortunate wretch, who seemed hardly to have yet gained a knowledge of those who were below.
“Help!” repeated the Wolfe; “by my trusty burlybrand, but I shall hew down the first villain who doth but move to give thee help. What, did I say that no hair of life should be touched? By the blessed bones of mine ancestors, but there lacked only this accident to make my revenge complete. Ha, ha, ha! did I not swear, thou grey-hooded crow, that as thou didst escape from the pit of water, thou shouldst be tried next by the fire? By my head, I did little imagine that I should thus so soon see thee bren before mine eyes; and bren thou shalt, for no man of mine shall risk the singeing of his beard to pluck thee from the destruction thine atrocious tongue has so well merited.”