Page:Martha Spreull by Zachary Fleming.pdf/66

54 On examination I fand that my leg wis encircled firm and fast by a guid stoot string.

Weel, seein’ it wis a runnin’ loop, I sune freed mysel’ frae peril. It had nae doot been lyin’ open on the fitpaith on purpose, an' when I stepped into it, must have been pu’d wi’ a sudden jerk, for the thing had tichtened on the thick pairt o’ my cauf, aboot a spang below the knee.

Thinks I, “ This is awfu’! ” I had heard o’ assassination societies amang the Irish, the hochin’ o’ cattle, an’ sic like things;

hut to be trappit at yer ain door in this Christian country, in the face o’ heavy pollis-money, wis past mortal belief an’ endurance. I could hae fentit fine; hooever when I saw there wis naebody near I got angry, an’ that saved me.

Weel, thinks I, this maun be bottomed. Body-liftin’ an’ burkin’ were common enough when I wis a lassie, but a’ that has been put an end to by the Anatomy Act; this, too, thinks I whatever it means, maun be put doon.

I followed the string, an’ saw that the tither end o ’t gaed into a trance that wis reached by a short flight o’ steps frae the street. It wisna a through-gaun close, an’ I could see it didna gang very far ben. So I planted mysel’ in front o’t, an’ commanded the culprit to gie himsel’ up to unconditional surrender.

I listened, an’ thocht I could hear a quick breath i’ the darkness, but there wisna a word in reply.

“Oh, ye may come oot,” quoth I, “for I’ll wait here till the pollis comes, though I should bide till daylicht i’ the mornin’.”

The breathin’ grew faster, but there wis nae word o’ surrender. “ What,” thinks I to mysel, “if the villain should get desperate an’ fa’ on me wi’ his nieves ? ”

There wisna a footstep in the street, an’ I felt it wis rinnin an unco risk, but the thocht inspired me with a happy idea that I lost nae time in carryin’ through.