“Does onybody see my hand frae the kitchen?” asked he.
“No a bit o’t,” was the answer.
“Nor frae the sty?”
“Nor frae that either.”
“Then there maun be a space, sure enough,” cried Geordie, drawing out one stone after another, till he had made a large hole in the wall. “An’ now,” said he, “gie me a light;” and he shoved in a lantern, and looked into the place. “The Lord preserve us a’!” cried he, starting back.
“What is’t—what is’t?” cried the people, pressing forward on all sides.
“Look an’ see!—look an’ see!” he answered; “they’re a there—a’ the murdered weans are there, lying in a raw!”
The wall was torn down in a moment; and, as he had said, the bodies of the poor innocents were found laid side by side together. Those who entered first gazed on the horrid scene without speaking, and then proceeded to carry out the bodies, and to lay them on the green before the house. It was then that the grief of the unhappy parents broke forth; and their cries and lamentations, as they recognised their murdered little ones, roused the passions of the crowd to absolute frenzy.
“Hanging’s ower gude for her,” cried one.
“Let’s rive her to coupens,” exclaimed another.