“Oh, then, it is the universal custom for the next in blood of the chieftain, if she be unmarried, to cut off a finger of the prisoner every day with an old hereditary hatchet kept for that purpose, till he relents, and offers to make her his bride. If he does so before he has lost the fingers of both hands, the feud is at an end.”
Miss Alice shuddered at the thoughts of cutting off a young man’s fingers.
“Oh, waiter, this is dreadful news! I’m certain my poor brother knew nothing of this when he purchased that horrible property. And what will they do to him if the furry succeeds?”
“Tie him up in a wolf’s skin, and hunt him to death with bloodhounds.”
“My poor brother, my poor brother! And he so fat, and subject to the gout! But it’s quite true—it’s exactly what they did to the Bohemian in Quentin Durward.”
“The present Fash-na-Cairn is a descendant of Le Balafré.”
“Oh, the monster! Have they no police at Ben-na-Groich, nor even special constables?—no justice of peace?”
“The only justice there is the dirk and claymore. But the young lady seems revived now. Do you take supper? I’ll send the chambermaid directly, ma’am.”
When the historical and veracious waiter left the room, the long and stately figure of Miss Alice sank slowly down upon the sofa. Jane Somers’s face was buried in her hands, and, by the tremors that ran through her whole frame, and the redness of what was visible of her cheeks and neck, it was evident that she was nearly in convulsions with some powerfully suppressed feeling. The aunt, of course, considered it to be the result of terror, whatever sager guess the reader may make upon the subject, and gave way to a fit of dolorous lamentation, that did not much contribute to her niece’s recovery.
“This comes of pride, and being one of the Scottish chiefs! To be eaten up by bloodhounds, and have his sister carried off by Fash-na-Cairn! Blue-Beard was a joke to him; fifteen wives, and only five-and-twenty!—more than three per annum since he came of age! I will put my brother on his guard the moment we arrive. This is truly a barbarous country, and inhabited by nobody but murderers and cannibals. Hobbins and Huxtable will be amazed to hear of their partner’s fate—and my brother never was partial to dogs!”