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Guy Mannering [221]

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track--the last time ye travelled it was in these arms."

She led them accordingly by a long and winding passage almost overgrown with brushwood, until, without any very perceptible descent, they suddenly found themselves by the seaside. Meg then walked very fast on between the surf and the rocks, until she came to a remarkable fragment of rock detached from the rest. "Here," she said in a low and scarcely audible whisper, "here the corpse was found."

"And the cave," said Bertram, in the some tone, is close beside it--are you guiding us there?"

"Yes," said the gipsy in a decided tone. "Bend up both your hearts--follow me as I creep in--I have placed the firewood so as to screen you. Bide behind it for a gliff [*Little] till I say, The hour and the man are baith come; then rin in on him, take his arms, and bind him till the blood burst frae his finger nails."

"I will, by my soul," said Henry--"if he is the man I suppose--Jansen?"

"Ay, Jansen, Hatteraick, and twenty mair names are his."

"Dinmont, you must stand by me now," said Bertram, "for this fellow is a devil."

"Ye needna doubt that," said the stout yeoman--"but I wish I could mind a bit prayer or I creep after the witch into that hole that she's opening--It wad be a sair thing to leave the blessed sun, and the free air, and gang and, be killed, like a tod that's run to earth, in a dungeon like that. But, my sooth, they will be hard-bitten terriers will worry Dandie; so, as I said, deil hae me if I baulk you." This was uttered in the lowest tone of voice possible. The entrance was now open. Meg crept in upon her hands and knees, Bertram followed and Dinmont, after giving a rueful glance toward the daylight, whose blessings he was abandoning, brought up the rear.



CHAPTER LIV.

--Die, prophet! in thy speech; For this, among the rest, was I ordained. Henry VI. Part III.

The progress of the Borderer, who, as we have said,--was the last of the party, was fearfully arrested by a hand, which caught hold of his leg as he dragged his long limbs after him in silence and perturbation through the low and narrow entrance of the subterranean passage. The steel heart of the bold yeoman had well-nigh given way, and he suppressed with difficulty a shout, which, in the defenceless posture and situation which they then occupied, might have cost all their lives. He contented himself, however, with extricating his foot from the grasp of the unexpected follower. Be still," said a voice behind him, releasing him I am a friend--Charles Hazlewood."

These words were uttered in a very low voice, but they produced sound enough to startle Meg Merrilies, who led the van, and who, having already gained the place where the cavern expanded, had risen upon her feet. She began, as if to confound any listening ear, to growl, to mutter, and to sing aloud, and at the same time to make a bustle among some brushwood which was now heaped in the cave.

"Here--beldam--Deyvil's kind," growled the harsh voice of Dirk Hatteraick from the inside of his den, what makest thou there?"

"Laying the roughies [*Withered boughs.] to keep the cauld wind frae a--you, ye desperate do-nae-good--Ye're e'en ower weel off, and wots na; it will be otherwise soon."

"Have you brought me the brandy, and any news of my people?" said Dirk Hatteraick.

"Here's the flask for ye. Your people-dispersed--broken-- gone--or cut to ribbands by the red-coats."

"Der Deyvil!--this coast is fatal to me."

"Ye may hae mair reason to say sae."

While this dialogue went forward, Bertram and Dinmont had both gained the interior of the cave, and assumed an erect position. The only light which illuminated its rugged and sable precincts was a quantity of wood burnt to charcoal in an iron grate, such as they use in spearing salmon by night. On these red embers Hatteraick from time to time threw a handful of twigs or splintered wood; but these, even when they blazed up, afforded a light much disproportioned to the extent of the cavern; and, as its principal inhabitant lay upon the side of the grate
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