Page:Dramas 3.pdf/15

Rh

better be belaired in a bog, or play coupcarling owre the craig o' Dalwhirry.

She must be very terrible to make thee so afraid.

When she begins to mutter wi' her white wuthered lips, and her twa gleg eyen are glowering like glints o' wildfire frae the hollow o' her dark bent brows, she's enough to mak a trooper quake; ay, wi' baith swurd and pistol by his side.—No, no, Leddy! the sun maun be up in the lift whan I venture to her den.

Thou wilt get there before it be dark, if thou make good speed.

No, though I had the speed o' a mawkin. It is gloaming already; black clouds are spreading fast owre the sky, and far-off thunner is growling. There is a storm coming on, and the fiends o' the air are at wark; I darna gang till the morning.

Timid loon! retire then, and go in the morning. But see that thou keep the secret. I'll give thee more money, if thou prove trusty and diligent.[Exit.