A universal shout was the answer; and immediately the greater part of them set off for the prison, their numbers increasing as they ran, and all burning with fury against the unhappy author of so much misery.
The wretched woman was at this moment sitting with an old crony who had been admitted to see her, and to whom she was confessing what had influenced her in acting as she had done.
“Ye ken,” said she, “I haena jist been mysel since a rascal that had a grudge at me put aboot a story of my having made awa wi’ John Anderson, wi’ the help o’ arsenic. I was ta’en up and examined aboot it, and afterwards tried for it, and though I was acquitted, the neebours aye looked on me wi’ an evil eye, and avoided me. This drave me to drinking and other bad courses, and it ended in my leaving that part of the kintra, and coming here. But the thing rankled in my mind, and many a time hae I sat thinkin’ on it, till I scarcely kent where I was, or what I was doing. Weel, ae day, as I was sitting at the roadside, near the Hermitage, and very low about it, I heard a voice say, ‘Are you thinking on John Anderson, Elie? Ay, woman,’ said Charlotte Beaumont, for it was her, ‘what a shame in you to poison your own gudeman!’ and she pointed her finger, and hissed at me. When I heard that,” continued Elie, “the whole blood in my body seemed to flee up to my face, an’ my very een were like to start frae my head; an’ I believe I wad hae killed her on the spot, hadna ane o’ Sir George’s servants come up at the time; sae I sat mysel doun again, an’ after a lang while, I reasoned mysel, as I thought, into the notion that I shouldna mind what a bairn said; but I hadna forgotten’t for a’ that.
“Weel, ae day that I met wi’ her near the wood, I tell’t her that it wasna right in her to speak yon gate, an’ didna mean to say ony mair, hadna the lassie gane on ten times waur nor she had done before, and sae angered me, that I gied her a wee bit shake, and then she threatened me wi’ what her faither wad do, and misca’ed me sae sair, that I struck her, and my passion being ance up, I gaed on striking her till I killed her outright. I didna ken for a while that she was dead; but when I found that it was really sae, I had sense enough left to row her in my apron, an’ to tak her hame wi’ me; an’ when I had barred the door, I laid her body on a chair, and sat down on my knees beside it, an’ grat an’ wrung my hands a’ night lang.
“Then I began to think what would be done to me if it was found out; an’ thought o’ pittin’ her into a cunning place, which the man who had the house before me, and who was a great poacher, had contrived to hide his game in; and when that was done, I was a thought easier, though I couldna forgie mysel for what I had done, till it cam into my head that it had been the means o’ saving her frae sin, and frae haein’ muckle to answer for; an’ this thought made me unco happy. At last I began to think that it would be right to save mair o’ them, and that it would atone for a’ my former sins; an’ this took sic a hold o’ me, that I was aye on the watch to get some ane or ither o’ them by themselves, to dedicate them to their Maker, by marking their bodies wi’ the holy cross:—but oh!” she groaned, “if I hae been wrang in a’ this!”
The sound of the people rushing towards the prison was now distinctly heard; and both at once seemed to apprehend their object.
“Is there no way of escape, Elie,” asked her friend, wringing her hands.
Elie pointed to her broken thigh, and shook her head. “Besides,” said she, “I know my hour is come.”
The mob had now reached the prison, and immediately burst open the doors. Ascending to the room where Elie was confined, they seized her by the hair, and dragged her furiously downstairs. They then hurried her to the river, and, with the bitterest curses, plunged her into the stream; but their intention was not so soon accomplished as they had expected; and one of the party having exclaimed that a witch would not drown, it was suggested, and unanimously agreed to, to burn her. A fire was instantly lighted by the waterside, and when they thought it was sufficiently kindled, they threw her into the midst of it. For some time her wet clothes protected her, but when the fire began to scorch her, she made a strong exertion, and rolled herself off. She was immediately seized and thrown on again; but having again succeeded in rolling herself off, the mob became furious, and called for more wood for the fire; and by stirring it on all hands, they raised it into a tremendous blaze. Some of the most active now hastened to lay hold of the poor wretch, and to toss her into it; but in their hurry one of them having trod on her broken limb, caused her such excessive pain, that when Geordie Turnbull stooped to assist in lifting her head, she suddenly caught him by the thumb with her teeth, and held him so fast, that he found it impossible to extricate it. She was therefore laid down again, and in many ways tried to force open her mouth, but without other effect than increasing Geordie’s agony; till at length one of them seizing a pointed stick from the fire, and thrusting it into an aperture occasioned by the loss of some of her teeth, the pressure of its sharp point against the roof of her mouth, and the smoke setting her coughing, forced her to relax her hold, when the man’s thumb was got out of her grasp terribly lacerated. Immediately thereafter she was tossed in the midst of the flames, and forcibly held there by means of long prongs; and the fire soon reaching the vital parts, the poor wretch’s screams and imprecations became so horrifying, that one of the bystanders, unable to bear it any longer, threw a large stone at her head, which, hitting her on the temples, deprived her of sense and motion.
Their vengeance satisfied, the people immediately dispersed, having first pledged themselves to the strictest secrecy. Most of them returned home, but a few went back to Elie Anderson’s, whose house, and everything belonging to her, had been set on fire by the furious multitude. They then retired, leaving a few men to watch the remains of the children, till coffins could be procured for them. “Never in a’ my days,” said John Maxwell, when speaking of it afterwards, “did I weary for daylight as I did that night. When the smoke smothered the fire, and it was quite dark, we didna mind sae muckle; but when a rafter or a bit o’ the roof fell in, and a bleeze raise, then the firelight shining on the ghastly faces of the puir wee innocents a’ laid in a row,—it was mair than we could weel stand; and it was mony a day or I was my ainsel again.”