“To the Steward?”
“Ay; and tell him, Elshender the Recluse commands him to give thee gold. But, hear me, let the maiden be discharged free and uninjured; return her to her friends, and let her swear not to discover thy villainy.”
“Swear,” said Westburnflat; “but what if she break her aith? Women are not famous for keeping their plight. A wise man like you should ken that.—And uninjured—wha kens what may happen were she to be left lang at Tinning-Beck? Charlie Cheat-the-Woodie is a rough customer. But if the gold could be made up to twenty pieces, I think I could ensure her being wi’ her friends within the twenty-four hours.”
The Dwarf took his tablets from his pocket, marked a line on them, and tore out the leaf. “There,” he said, giving the robber the leaf—“But, mark me; thou knowest I am not to be fooled by thy treachery; if thou darest to disobey my directions, thy wretched life, be sure, shall answer it.”
“I know,” said the fellow, looking down, “that you have power on earth, however you came by it; you can do what nae other man can do, baith by physic and foresight; and the gold is shelled down when ye command, as fast as I have seen the ash-keys fall in a frosty morning in October. I will not disobey you.”
“Begone, then, and relieve me of thy hateful presence.”
The robber set spurs to his horse, and rode off without reply.
Hobbie Elliot had, in the meanwhile, pursued his journey rapidly, harassed by those oppressive and indistinct fears that all was not right, which men usually term a presentiment of misfortune. Ere he reached the top of the bank from which he could look down on his own habitation, he was met by his nurse, a person then of great consequence in all families in Scotland, whether of the higher or middling classes. The connexion between them and their foster-children was considered a tie far too dearly intimate to be broken; and it usually happened, in the course of years, that the nurse became a resident in the family of her foster-son, assisting in the domestic duties, and receiving all marks of attention and regard from the heads of the family. So soon as Hobbie recognised the figure of Annaple, in her red cloak and black hood, he could not help exclaiming to himself, “What ill luck can hae brought the auld nurse sae far frae hame, her that never stirs a gun-shot frae the door-stane for ordinar?—Hout, it will just be to get crane-berries, or whortle-berries, or some such stuff, out of the moss, to make the pies and tarts for the feast on Monday.—I cannot get the words of that cankered auld cripple deil’s-buckie out o’ my head—the least thing makes me dread some ill news.—O, Killbuck, man! were there nae deer and goats in the country besides, but ye behoved to gang and worry his creature, by a’ other folk’s?”
By this time Annaple, with a brow like a tragic volume, had hobbled towards him, and caught his horse by the bridle. The despair in her look was so evident as to deprive even him of the power of asking the cause. “O my bairn!” she cried, “gang na forward—gang na forward—it’s a sight to kill onybody, let alane thee.”
“In God’s name, what’s the matter?” said the astonished horseman, endeavouring to extricate his bridle from the grasp of the old woman; “for Heaven’s sake, let me go and see what’s the matter.”