"And ye'll rig out the auld tower a bit," said Hobbie, "and live
hearty and neighbour-like wi' the auld family friends, as the Laird o'
Earnscliff should? I can tell ye, my mother--my grandmother I mean--but,
since we lost our ain mother, we ca' her sometimes the tane, and
sometimes the tother--but, ony gate, she conceits hersell no that
distant connected wi' you."

"Very true, Hobbie, and I will come to the Heugh-foot to dinner
to-morrow with all my heart."

"Weel, that's kindly said! We are auld neighbours, an we were nae
kin--and my gude-dame's fain to see you--she clavers about your father
that was killed lang syne."

"Hush, hush, Hobbie--not a word about that--it's a story better
forgotten."

"I dinna ken--if it had chanced amang our folk, we wad hae keepit it in
mind mony a day till we got some mends for't--but ye ken your ain ways
best, you lairds--I have heard say that Ellieslaw's friend stickit your
sire after the laird himsell had mastered his sword."

"Fie, fie, Hobbie; it was a foolish brawl, occasioned by wine and
politics--many swords were drawn--it is impossible to say who struck the
blow."

"At ony rate, auld Ellieslaw was aiding and abetting; and I am sure if
ye were sae disposed as to take amends on him, naebody could say it was
wrang, for your father's blood is beneath his nails--and besides there's
naebody else left that was concerned to take amends upon, and he's a
prelatist and a jacobite into the bargain--I can tell ye the country
folk look for something atween ye."

"O for shame, Hobbie!" replied the young Laird; "you, that profess
religion, to stir your friend up to break the law, and take vengeance
at his own hand, and in such a bogilly bit too, where we know not what
beings may be listening to us!"

"Hush, hush!" said Hobbie, drawing nearer to his companion, "I was nae
thinking o' the like o' them--But I can guess a wee bit what keeps your
hand up, Mr. Patrick; we a' ken it's no lack o' courage, but the twa
grey een of a bonny lass, Miss Isabel Vere, that keeps you sae sober."

"I assure you, Hobbie," said his companion, rather angrily, "I assure
you you are mistaken; and it is extremely wrong of you, either to think
of, or to utter, such an idea; I have no idea of permitting freedoms to
be carried so far as to connect my name with that of any young lady."

"Why, there now--there now!" retorted Elliot; "did I not say it was nae
want o' spunk that made ye sae mim?--Weel, weel, I meant nae offence;
but there's just ae thing ye may notice frae a friend. The auld Laird
of Ellieslaw has the auld riding blood far hetter at his heart than ye
hae--troth, he kens naething about thae newfangled notions o' peace and
quietness--he's a' for the auld-warld doings o' lifting and laying on,
and he has a wheen stout lads at his back too, and keeps them weel up in
heart, and as fu' o' mischief as young colts. Where he gets the gear to
do't nane can say; he lives high, and far abune his rents here; however,
he pays his way--Sae, if there's ony out-break in the country, he's
likely to break out wi' the first--and weel does he mind the auld
quarrels between ye, I'm surmizing he'll be for a touch at the auld
tower at Earnscliff."

"Well, Hobbie," answered the young gentleman, "if he should be so ill
advised, I shall try to make the old tower good against him, as it has
been made good by my betters against his betters many a day ago."

"Very right--very right--that's speaking like a man now," said the stout
yeoman; "and, if sae should be that this be sae, if ye'll just gar your
servant jow out the great bell in the tower, there's me, and my twa
brothers, and little Davie of the Stenhouse, will be wi' you, wi' a' the
power we can make, in the snapping of a flint."

"Many thanks, Hobbie," answered Earnscliff; "but I hope we shall have no
war of so unnatural and unchristian a kind in our time."

"Hout, sir, hout," replied Elliot; "it wad be but a wee bit neighbour
war, and Heaven and earth would make allowances for it in this
uncultivated place--it's just the nature o' the folk and the land--we
canna live quiet like Loudon folk--we haena sae muckle to do. It's
impossible."

"Well, Hobbie," said the Laird, "for one who believes so deeply as you
do in supernatural appearances, I must own you take Heaven in your own
hand rather audaciously, considering where we are walking."

"What needs I care for the Mucklestane-Moor ony mair than ye do
yoursell, Earnscliff?" said Hobbie, something offended; "to be sure,
they do say there's a sort o' worricows and lang-nebbit things about the
land, but what need I care for them? I hae a good conscience, and little
to answer for, unless it be about a rant amang the lasses, or a splore
at a fair, and that's no muckle to speak of. Though I say it mysell, I
am as quiet a lad and as peaceable--"

"And Dick Turnbull's head that you broke, and Willie of Winton whom you
shot at?" said his travelling companion.

"Hout, Earnscliff, ye keep a record of a' men's misdoings--Dick's head's
healed again, and we're to fight out the quarrel at Jeddart, on the
Rood-day, so that's like a thing settled in a peaceable way; and then I
am friends wi' Willie again, puir chield--it was but twa or three hail
draps after a'. I wad let onybody do the like o't to me for a pint o'
brandy. But Willie's lowland bred, poor fallow, and soon frighted for
himsell--And, for the worricows, were we to meet ane on this very bit--"

"As is not unlikely," said young Earnscliff, "for there stands your old
witch, Hobbie."

"I say," continued Elliot, as if indignant at this hint--"I say, if the
auld carline hersell was to get up out o' the grund just before us here,
I would think nae mair--But, gude preserve us, Earnscliff; what can yon,
be!"



CHAPTER III.

     Brown Dwarf, that o'er the moorland strays,
     Thy name to Keeldar tell!
     "The Brown Man of the Moor, that stays
     Beneath the heather-bell."--JOHN LEYDEN

The object which alarmed the young farmer in the middle of his valorous
protestations, startled for a moment even his less prejudiced companion.
The moon, which had arisen during their conversation, was, in the phrase
of that country, wading or struggling with clouds, and shed only a
doubtful and occasional light. By one of her beams, which streamed upon
the great granite column to which they now approached, they discovered
a form, apparently human, but of a size much less than ordinary, which
moved slowly among the large grey stones, not like a person intending
to journey onward, but with the slow, irregular, flitting movement of a
being who hovers around some spot of melancholy recollection, uttering
also, from time to time, a sort of indistinct muttering sound. This so
much resembled his idea of the motions of an apparition, that Hobbie
Elliot, making a dead pause, while his hair erected itself upon his
scalp, whispered to his companion, "It's Auld Ailie hersell! Shall I gie
her a shot, in the name of God?"

"For Heaven's sake, no," said his companion, holding down the weapon
which he was about to raise to the aim--"for Heaven's sake, no; it's
some poor distracted creature."

"Ye're distracted yoursell, for thinking of going so near to her," said
Elliot, holding his companion in his turn, as he prepared to advance.
"We'll aye hae time to pit ower a bit prayer (an I could but mind ane)
afore she comes this length--God! she's in nae hurry," continued he,
growing bolder from his companion's confidence, and the little notice
the apparition seemed to take of them. "She hirples like a hen on a het
girdle. I redd ye, Earnscliff" (this he added in a gentle whisper), "let
us take a cast about, as if to draw the wind on a buck--the bog is no
abune knee-deep, and better a saft road as bad company." [The Scots use
the epithet soft, IN MALAM PARTEM, in two cases, at least. A SOFT road
is a road through quagmire and bogs; and SOFT weather signifies that
which is very rainy.]

Earnscliff, however, in spite of his companion's resistance and
remonstrances, continued to advance on the path they had originally
pursued, and soon confronted the object of their investigation.

The height of the figure, which appeared even to decrease as they
approached it, seemed to be under four feet, and its form, as far as the
imperfect light afforded them the means of discerning, was very nearly
as broad as long, or rather of a spherical shape, which could only
be occasioned by some strange personal deformity. The young sportsman
hailed this extraordinary appearance twice, without receiving any
answer, or attending to the pinches by which his companion endeavoured
to intimate that their best course was to walk on, without giving
farther disturbance to a being of such singular and preternatural
exterior. To the third repeated demand of "Who are you? What do you here
at this hour of night?"--a voice replied, whose shrill, uncouth, and
dissonant tones made Elliot step two paces back, and startled even his
companion, "Pass on your way, and ask nought at them that ask nought at
you."

"What do you do here so far from shelter? Are you benighted on your
journey? Will you follow us home ('God forbid!' ejaculated Hobbie
Elliot, involuntarily), and I will give you a lodging?"

"I would sooner lodge by mysell in the deepest of the Tarras-flow,"
again whispered Hobbie.

"Pass on your way," rejoined the figure, the harsh tones of his voice
still more exalted by passion. "I want not your guidance--I want not
your lodging--it is five years since my head was under a human roof, and
I trust it was for the last time."

"He is mad," said Earnscliff.

"He has a look of auld Humphrey Ettercap, the tinkler, that perished
in this very moss about five years syne," answered his superstitious
companion; "but Humphrey wasna that awfu' big in the bouk."

"Pass on your way," reiterated the object of their curiosity, "the
breath of your human bodies poisons the air around me--the sound of pour
human voices goes through my ears like sharp bodkins."

"Lord safe us!" whispered Hobbie, "that the dead should bear sie fearfu'
ill-will to the living!--his saul maun be in a puir way, I'm jealous."

"Come, my friend," said Earnscliff, "you seem to suffer under some
strong affliction; common humanity will not allow us to leave you here."

"Common humanity!" exclaimed the being, with a scornful laugh that
sounded like a shriek, "where got ye that catch-word--that noose for
woodcocks--that common disguise for man-traps--that bait which the
wretched idiot who swallows, will soon find covers a hook with barbs ten
times sharper than those you lay for the animals which you murder for
your luxury!"

"I tell you, my friend," again replied Earnscliff, "you are incapable of
judging of your own situation--you will perish in this wilderness, and
we must, in compassion, force you along with us."

"I'll hae neither hand nor foot in't," said Hobbie; "let the ghaist take
his ain way, for God's sake!"

"My blood be on my own head, if I perish here," said the figure; and,
observing Earnscliff meditating to lay hold on him, he added, "And
your blood be upon yours, if you touch but the skirt of my garments, to
infect me with the taint of mortality!"

The moon shone more brightly as he spoke thus, and Earnscliff observed
that he held out his right hand armed with some weapon of offence, which
glittered in the cold ray like the blade of a long knife, or the barrel
of a pistol. It would have been madness to persevere in his attempt upon
a being thus armed, and holding such desperate language, especially as
it was plain he would have little aid from his companion, who had fairly
left him to settle matters with the apparition as he could, and had
proceeded a few paces on his way homeward. Earnscliff, however, turned
and followed Hobbie, after looking back towards the supposed maniac,
who, as if raised to frenzy by the interview, roamed wildly around the
great stone, exhausting his voice in shrieks and imprecations, that
thrilled wildly along the waste heath.

The two sportsmen moved on some time in silence, until they were out
of hearing of these uncouth sounds, which was not ere they had gained a
considerable distance from the pillar that gave name to the moor. Each
made his private comments on the scene they had witnessed, until Hobbie
Elliot suddenly exclaimed, "Weel, I'll uphaud that yon ghaist, if it
be a ghaist, has baith done and suffered muckle evil in the flesh, that
gars him rampauge in that way after he is dead and gane."

"It seems to me the very madness of misanthropy," said Earnscliff;
following his own current of thought.

"And ye didna think it was a spiritual creature, then?" asked Hobbie at
his companion.

"Who, I?--No, surely."

"Weel, I am partly of the mind mysell that it may be a live thing--and
yet I dinna ken, I wadna wish to see ony thing look liker a bogle."

"At any rate," said Earnscliff, "I will ride over to-morrow and see what
has become of the unhappy being."

"In fair daylight?" queried the yeoman; "then, grace o' God, I'se be
wi' ye. But here we are nearer to Heugh-foot than to your house by twa
mile,--hadna ye better e'en gae hame wi' me, and we'll send the callant
on the powny to tell them that you are wi' us, though I believe there's
naebody at hame to wait for you but the servants and the cat."

"Have with you then, friend Hobbie," said the young hunter; "and as I
would not willingly have either the servants be anxious, or puss forfeit
her supper, in my absence, I'll be obliged to you to send the boy as you
propose."

"Aweel, that IS kind, I must say. And ye'll gae hame to Heugh-foot?
They'll be right blithe to see you, that will they."

This affair settled, they walked briskly on a little farther, when,
coming to the ridge of a pretty steep hill, Hobbie Elliot exclaimed,
"Now, Earnscliff, I am aye glad when I come to this very bit--Ye see
the light below, that's in the ha' window, where grannie, the gash auld
carline, is sitting birling at her wheel--and ye see yon other light
that's gaun whiddin' back and forrit through amang the windows? that's
my cousin, Grace Armstrong,--she's twice as clever about the house as my
sisters, and sae they say themsells, for they're good-natured lasses as
ever trode on heather; but they confess themsells, and sae does grannie,
that she has far maist action, and is the best goer about the toun, now
that grannie is off the foot hersell.--My brothers, ane o' them's away
to wait upon the chamberlain, and ane's at Moss-phadraig, that's our led
farm--he can see after the stock just as weel as I can do."

"You are lucky, my good friend, in having so many valuable relations."

"Troth am I--Grace make me thankful, I'se never deny it.--But will
ye tell me now, Earnscliff, you that have been at college, and the
high-school of Edinburgh, and got a' sort o' lair where it was to
be best gotten--will ye tell me--no that it's ony concern of mine in
particular,--but I heard the priest of St. John's, and our minister,
bargaining about it at the Winter fair, and troth they baith spak very
weel--Now, the priest says it's unlawful to marry ane's cousin; but I
cannot say I thought he brought out the Gospel authorities half sae weel
as our minister--our minister is thought the best divine and the best
preacher atween this and Edinburgh--Dinna ye think he was likely to be
right?"

"Certainly marriage, by all protestant Christians, is held to be as free
as God made it by the Levitical law; so, Hobbie, there can be no bar,
legal or religious, betwixt you and Miss Armstrong."

"Hout awa' wi' your joking, Earnscliff," replied his companion,--"ye
are angry aneugh yoursell if ane touches you a bit, man, on the sooth
side of the jest--No that I was asking the question about Grace, for ye
maun ken she's no my cousin-germain out and out, but the daughter of
my uncle's wife by her first marriage, so she's nae kith nor kin to
me--only a connexion like. But now we're at the Sheeling-hill--I'll fire
off my gun, to let them ken I'm coming, that's aye my way; and if I hae
a deer I gie them twa shots, ane for the deer and ane for mysell."

He fired off his piece accordingly, and the number of lights were
seen to traverse the house, and even to gleam before it. Hobbie Elliot
pointed out one of these to Earnscliff, which seemed to glide from the
house towards some of the outhouses-"That's Grace hersell," said Hobbie.
"She'll no meet me at the door, I'se warrant her--but she'll be awa',
for a' that, to see if my hounds' supper be ready, poor beasts."

"Love me, love my dog," answered Earnscliff. "Ah, Hobbie, you are a
lucky young fellow!"

This observation was uttered with something like a sigh, which
apparently did not escape the ear of his companion.

"Hout, other folk may be as lucky as I am--O how I have seen Miss Isabel
Vere's head turn after somebody when they passed ane another at the
Carlisle races! Wha kens but things may come round in this world?"

Earnscliff muttered something like an answer; but whether in assent of
the proposition, or rebuking the application of it, could not easily be
discovered; and it seems probable that the speaker himself was willing
his meaning should rest in doubt and obscurity. They had now descended
the broad loaning, which, winding round the foot of the steep bank,
or heugh, brought them in front of the thatched, but comfortable,
farm-house, which was the dwelling of Hobbie Elliot and his family.

The doorway was thronged with joyful faces; but the appearance of a
stranger blunted many a gibe which had been prepared on Hobbie's lack
of success in the deer-stalking. There was a little bustle among three
handsome young women, each endeavouring to devolve upon another the task
of ushering the stranger into the apartment, while probably all were
anxious to escape for the purpose of making some little personal
arrangements, before presenting themselves to a young gentleman in a
dishabille only intended for their brother.

Hobbie, in the meanwhile, bestowing some hearty and general abuse upon
them all (for Grace was not of the party), snatched the candle from the
hand of one of the rustic coquettes, as she stood playing pretty with
it in her hand, and ushered his guest into the family parlour, or rather
hall; for the place having been a house of defence in former times, the
sitting apartment was a vaulted and paved room, damp and dismal enough
compared with the lodgings of the yeomanry of our days, but which, when
well lighted up with a large sparkling fire of turf and bog-wood, seemed
to Earnscliff a most comfortable exchange for the darkness and bleak
blast of the hill. Kindly and repeatedly was he welcomed by the
venerable old dame, the mistress of the family, who, dressed in her
coif and pinners, her close and decent gown of homespun wool, but with a
large gold necklace and ear-rings, looked, what she really was, the lady
as well as the farmer's wife, while, seated in her chair of wicker, by
the corner of the great chimney, she directed the evening occupations
of the young women, and of two or three stout serving wenches, who sate
plying their distaffs behind the backs of their young mistresses.

As soon as Earnscliff had been duly welcomed, and hasty orders issued
for some addition to the evening meal, his grand-dame and sisters opened
their battery upon Hobbie Elliot for his lack of success against the
deer.

"Jenny needna have kept up her kitchen-fire for a' that Hobbie has
brought hame," said one sister.

"Troth no, lass," said another; "the gathering peat, if it was weel
blawn, wad dress a' our Hobbie's venison." [The gathering peat is the
piece of turf left to treasure up the secret seeds of fire, without any
generous consumption of fuel; in a word, to keep the fire alive.]

"Ay, or the low of the candle, if the wind wad let it hide steady," said
a third; "if I were him, I would bring hame a black craw, rather than
come back three times without a buck's horn to blaw on."

Hobbie turned from the one to the other, regarding them alternately
with a frown on his brow, the augury of which was confuted by the
good-humoured laugh on the lower part of his countenance. He then strove
to propitiate them, by mentioning the intended present of his companion.

"In my young days," said the old lady, "a man wad hae been ashamed
to come back frae the hill without a buck hanging on each side o' his
horse, like a cadger carrying calves."

"I wish they had left some for us then, grannie," retorted Hobbie;
"they've cleared the country o' them, thae auld friends o' yours, I'm
thinking."

"We see other folk can find game, though you cannot, Hobbie," said the
eldest sister, glancing a look at young Earnscliff.

"Weel, weel, woman, hasna every dog his day, begging Earnscliff's
pardon for the auld saying--Mayna I hae his luck, and he mine, another
time?--It's a braw thing for a man to be out a' day, and frighted--na, I
winna say that neither but mistrysted wi' bogles in the hame-coming, an'
then to hae to flyte wi' a wheen women that hae been doing naething a'
the live-lang day, but whirling a bit stick, wi' a thread trailing at
it, or boring at a clout."

"Frighted wi' bogles!" exclaimed the females, one and all,--for great
was the regard then paid, and perhaps still paid, in these glens, to all
such fantasies.

"I did not say frighted, now--I only said mis-set wi' the thing--And
there was but ae bogle, neither--Earnscliff, ye saw it; as weel as I
did?"

And he proceeded, without very much exaggeration, to detail, in his own
way, the meeting they had with the mysterious being at Mucklestane-Moor,
concluding, he could not conjecture what on earth it could be, unless it
was either the Enemy himsell, or some of the auld Peghts that held the
country lang syne.

"Auld Peght!" exclaimed the grand-dame; "na, na--bless thee frae scathe,
my bairn, it's been nae Peght that--it's been the Brown Man of the
Moors! O weary fa' thae evil days!--what can evil beings be coming for
to distract a poor country, now it's peacefully settled, and living in
love and law--O weary on him! he ne'er brought gude to these lands or
the indwellers. My father aften tauld me he was seen in the year o' the
bloody fight at Marston-Moor, and then again in Montrose's troubles, and
again before the rout o' Dunbar, and, in my ain time, he was seen about
the time o' Bothwell-Brigg, and they said the second-sighted Laird of
Benarbuck had a communing wi' him some time afore Argyle's landing,
but that I cannot speak to sae preceesely--it was far in the west.--O,
bairns, he's never permitted but in an ill time, sae mind ilka ane o' ye
to draw to Him that can help in the day of trouble."

Earnscliff now interposed, and expressed his firm conviction that the
person they had seen was some poor maniac, and had no commission from
the invisible world to announce either war or evil. But his opinion
found a very cold audience, and all joined to deprecate his purpose of
returning to the spot the next day.

"O, my bonny bairn," said the old dame (for, in the kindness of
her heart, she extended her parental style to all in whom she was
interested)---"You should beware mair than other folk--there's been a
heavy breach made in your house wi' your father's bloodshed, and wi'
law-pleas, and losses sinsyne;--and you are the flower of the flock, and
the lad that will build up the auld bigging again (if it be His will)
to be an honour to the country, and a safeguard to those that dwell
in it--you, before others, are called upon to put yoursell in no rash
adventures--for yours was aye ower venturesome a race, and muckle harm
they have got by it."

"But I am sure, my good friend, you would not have me be afraid of going
to an open moor in broad daylight?"

"I dinna ken," said the good old dame; "I wad never bid son or friend o'
mine haud their hand back in a gude cause, whether it were a friend's or
their ain--that should be by nae bidding of mine, or of ony body that's
come of a gentle kindred--But it winna gang out of a grey head like
mine, that to gang to seek for evil that's no fashing wi' you, is clean
against law and Scripture."

Earnscliff resigned an argument which he saw no prospect of maintaining
with good effect, and the entrance of supper broke off the conversation.
Miss Grace had by this time made her appearance, and Hobbie, not without
a conscious glance at Earnscliff, placed himself by her side. Mirth
and lively conversation, in which the old lady of the house took the
good-humoured share which so well becomes old age, restored to the
cheeks of the damsels the roses which their brother's tale of the
apparition had chased away, and they danced and sung for an hour after
supper as if there were no such things as goblins in the world.



CHAPTER IV.

     I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind;
     For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
     That I might love thee something.--TIMON OF ATHENS

On the following morning, after breakfast, Earnscliff took leave of
his hospitable friends, promising to return in time to partake of the
venison, which had arrived from his house. Hobbie, who apparently took
leave of him at the door of his habitation, slunk out, however, and
joined him at the top of the hill.

"Ye'll be gaun yonder, Mr. Patrick; feind o' me will mistryst you for
a' my mother says. I thought it best to slip out quietly though, in case
she should mislippen something of what we're gaun to do--we maunna vex
her at nae rate--it was amaist the last word my father said to me on his
deathbed."

"By no means, Hobbie," said Earnscliff; "she well merits all your
attention."

"Troth, for that matter, she would be as sair vexed amaist for you as
for me. But d'ye really think there's nae presumption in venturing back
yonder?--We hae nae special commission, ye ken."

"If I thought as you do, Hobbie," said the young gentleman, "I would not
perhaps enquire farther into this business; but as I am of opinion that
preternatural visitations are either ceased altogether, or become very
rare in our days, I am unwilling to leave a matter uninvestigated which
may concern the life of a poor distracted being."

"Aweel, aweel, if ye really think that," answered Hobbie
doubtfully--"And it's for certain the very fairies--I mean the very good
neighbours themsells (for they say folk suldna ca' them fairies) that
used to be seen on every green knowe at e'en, are no half sae often
visible in our days. I canna depone to having ever seen ane mysell, but,
I ance heard ane whistle ahint me in the moss, as like a whaup [Curlew]
as ae thing could be like anither. And mony ane my father saw when he
used to come hame frae the fairs at e'en, wi' a drap drink in his head,
honest man."

Earnscliff was somewhat entertained with the gradual declension of
superstition from one generation to another which was inferred In this
last observation; and they continued to reason on such subjects, until
they came in sight of the upright stone which gave name to the moor.

"As I shall answer," says Hobbie, "yonder's the creature creeping about
yet!--But it's daylight, and you have your gun, and I brought out my bit
whinger--I think we may venture on him."

"By all manner of means," said Earnscliff; "but, in the name of wonder,
what can he be doing there?"

"Biggin a dry-stane dyke, I think, wi' the grey geese, as they ca' thae
great loose stanes--Odd, that passes a' thing I e'er heard tell of!"

As they approached nearer, Earnscliff could not help agreeing with his
companion. The figure they had seen the night before seemed slowly and
toilsomely labouring to pile the large stones one upon another, as if
to form a small enclosure. Materials lay around him in great plenty, but
the labour of carrying on the work was immense, from the size of most of
the stones; and it seemed astonishing that he should have succeeded in
moving several which he had already arranged for the foundation of his
edifice. He was struggling to move a fragment of great size when the two
young men came up, and was so intent upon executing his purpose, that
he did not perceive them till they were close upon him. In straining
and heaving at the stone, in order to place it according to his wish,
he displayed a degree of strength which seemed utterly inconsistent with
his size and apparent deformity. Indeed, to judge from the difficulties
he had already surmounted, he must have been of Herculean powers; for
some of the stones he had succeeded in raising apparently required two
men's strength to have moved them. Hobbie's suspicions began to revive,
on seeing the preternatural strength he exerted.

"I am amaist persuaded it's the ghaist of a stane-mason--see siccan
band-statnes as he's laid i--An it be a man, after a', I wonder what
he wad take by the rood to build a march dyke. There's ane sair wanted
between Cringlehope and the Shaws.--Honest man" (raising his voice), "ye
make good firm wark there?"

The being whom he addressed raised his eyes with a ghastly stare, and,
getting up from his stooping posture, stood before them in all his
native and hideous deformity. His head was of uncommon size, covered
with a fell of shaggy hair, partly grizzled with age; his eyebrows,
shaggy and prominent, overhung a pair of small dark, piercing eyes,
set far back in their sockets, that rolled with a portentous wildness,
indicative of a partial insanity. The rest of his features were of the
coarse, rough-hewn stamp, with which a painter would equip a giant
in romance; to which was added the wild, irregular, and peculiar
expression, so often seen in the countenances of those whose persons are
deformed. His body, thick and square, like that of a man of middle size,
was mounted upon two large feet; but nature seemed to have forgotten the
legs and the thighs, or they were so very short as to be hidden by the
dress which he wore. His arms were long and brawny, furnished with two
muscular hands, and, where uncovered in the eagerness of his labour,
were shagged with coarse black hair. It seemed as if nature had
originally intended the separate parts of his body to be the members of
a giant, but had afterwards capriciously assigned them to the person of
a dwarf, so ill did the length of his arms and the iron strength of his
frame correspond with the shortness of his stature. His clothing was a
sort of coarse brown tunic, like a monk's frock, girt round him with a
belt of seal-skin. On his head he had a cap made of badger's skin, or
some other rough fur, which added considerably to the grotesque effect
of his whole appearance, and overshadowed features, whose habitual
expression seemed that of sullen malignant misanthropy.

This remarkable Dwarf gazed on the two youths in silence, with a dogged
and irritated look, until Earnscliff, willing to soothe him into better
temper, observed, "You are hard tasked, my friend; allow us to assist
you."

Elliot and he accordingly placed the stone, by their joint efforts, upon
the rising wall. The Dwarf watched them with the eye of a taskmaster,
and testified, by peevish gestures, his impatience at the time which
they took in adjusting the stone. He pointed to another--they raised it
also--to a third, to a fourth--they continued to humour him, though with
some trouble, for he assigned them, as if intentionally, the heaviest
fragments which lay near.

"And now, friend," said Elliot, as the unreasonable Dwarf indicated
another stone larger than any they had moved, "Earnscliff may do as he
likes; but be ye man or be ye waur, deil be in my fingers if I break
my back wi' heaving thae stanes ony langer like a barrow-man, without
getting sae muckle as thanks for my pains."

"Thanks!" exclaimed the Dwarf, with a motion expressive of the utmost
contempt--"There--take them, and fatten upon them! Take them, and may
they thrive with you as they have done with me--as they have done with
every mortal worm that ever heard the word spoken by his fellow reptile!
Hence--either labour or begone!"

"This is a fine reward we have, Earnscliff, for building a tabernacle
for the devil, and prejudicing our ain souls into the bargain, for what
we ken."

"Our presence," answered Earnscliff, "seems only to irritate his frenzy;
we had better leave him, and send some one to provide him with food and
necessaries."

They did so. The servant dispatched for this purpose found the Dwarf
still labouring at his wall, but could not extract a word from him.
The lad, infected with the superstitions of the country, did not long
persist in an attempt to intrude questions or advice on so singular a
figure, but having placed the articles which he had brought for his use
on a stone at some distance, he left them at the misanthrope's disposal.

The Dwarf proceeded in his labours, day after day, with an assiduity so
incredible as to appear almost supernatural. In one day he often seemed
to have done the work of two men, and his building soon assumed
the appearance of the walls of a hut, which, though very small, and
constructed only of stones and turf, without any mortar, exhibited, from
the unusual size of the stones employed, an appearance of solidity very
uncommon for a cottage of such narrow dimensions and rude construction.
Earnscliff; attentive to his motions, no sooner perceived to what they
tended, than he sent down a number of spars of wood suitable for forming
the roof, which he caused to be left in the neighbourhood of the spot,
resolving next day to send workmen to put them up. But his purpose was
anticipated, for in the evening, during the night, and early in the
morning, the Dwarf had laboured so hard, and with such ingenuity, that
he had nearly completed the adjustment of the rafters. His next labour
was to cut rushes and thatch his dwelling, a task which he performed
with singular dexterity.

As he seemed averse to receive any aid beyond the occasional assistance
of a passenger, materials suitable to his purpose, and tools, were
supplied to him, in the use of which he proved to be skilful. He
constructed the door and window of his cot, he adjusted a rude bedstead,
and a few shelves, and appeared to become somewhat soothed in his temper
as his accommodations increased.

His next task was to form a strong enclosure, and to cultivate the land
within it to the best of his power; until, by transporting mould, and
working up what was upon the spot, he formed a patch of garden-ground.
It must be naturally supposed, that, as above hinted, this solitary
being received assistance occasionally from such travellers as crossed
the moor by chance, as well as from several who went from curiosity to
visit his works. It was, indeed, impossible to see a human creature, so
unfitted, at first sight, for hard labour, toiling with such unremitting
assiduity, without stopping a few minutes to aid him in his task; and,
as no one of his occasional assistants was acquainted with the degree
of help which the Dwarf had received from others, the celerity of his
progress lost none of its marvels in their eyes. The strong and compact
appearance of the cottage, formed in so very short a space, and by such
a being, and the superior skill which he displayed in mechanics, and in
other arts, gave suspicion to the surrounding neighbours. They insisted,
that, if he was not a phantom,--an opinion which was now
abandoned, since he plainly appeared a being of blood and bone with
themselves,--yet he must be in close league with the invisible world,
and have chosen that sequestered spot to carry on his communication with
them undisturbed. They insisted, though in a different sense from the
philosopher's application of the phrase, that he was never less alone
than when alone; and that from the heights which commanded the moor at
a distance, passengers often discovered a person at work along with
this dweller of the desert, who regularly disappeared as soon as they
approached closer to the cottage. Such a figure was also occasionally
seen sitting beside him at the door, walking with him in the moor, or
assisting him in fetching water from his fountain. Earnscliff explained
this phenomenon by supposing it to be the Dwarf's shadow.

"Deil a shadow has he," replied Hobbie Elliot, who was a strenuous
defender of the general opinion; "he's ower far in wi' the Auld Ane to
have a shadow. Besides," he argued more logically, "wha ever heard of a
shadow that cam between a body and the sun? and this thing, be it what
it will, is thinner and taller than the body himsell, and has been seen
to come between him and the sun mair than anes or twice either."

These suspicions, which, in any other part of the country, might have
been attended with investigations a little inconvenient to the supposed
wizard, were here only productive of respect and awe. The recluse being
seemed somewhat gratified by the marks of timid veneration with which
an occasional passenger approached his dwelling, the look of startled
surprise with which he surveyed his person and his premises, and the
hurried step with which he pressed his retreat as he passed the awful
spot. The boldest only stopped to gratify their curiosity by a hasty
glance at the walls of his cottage and garden, and to apologize for it
by a courteous salutation, which the inmate sometimes deigned to return
by a word or a nod. Earnscliff often passed that way, and seldom without
enquiring after the solitary inmate, who seemed now to have arranged his
establishment for life.

It was impossible to engage him in any conversation on his own personal
affairs; nor was he communicative or accessible in talking on any other
subject whatever, although he seemed to have considerably relented in
the extreme ferocity of his misanthropy, or rather to be less frequently
visited with the fits of derangement of which this was a symptom. No
argument could prevail upon him to accept anything beyond the simplest
necessaries, although much more was offered by Earnscliff out of
charity, and by his more superstitious neighbours from other motives.
The benefits of these last he repaid by advice, when consulted (as at
length he slowly was) on their diseases, or those of their cattle. He
often furnished them with medicines also, and seemed possessed, not only
of such as were the produce of the country, but of foreign drugs.
He gave these persons to understand, that his name was Elshender the
Recluse; but his popular epithet soon came to be Canny Elshie, or the
Wise Wight of Mucklestane-Moor. Some extended their queries beyond their
bodily complaints, and requested advice upon other matters, which he
delivered with an oracular shrewdness that greatly confirmed the opinion
of his possessing preternatural skill. The querists usually left some
offering upon a stone, at a distance from his dwelling; if it was money,
or any article which did not suit him to accept, he either threw it
away, or suffered it to remain where it was without making use of it.
On all occasions his manners were rude and unsocial; and his words, in
number, just sufficient to express his meaning as briefly as possible,
and he shunned all communication that went a syllable beyond the matter
in hand. When winter had passed away, and his garden began to afford
him herbs and vegetables, he confined himself almost entirely to those
articles of food. He accepted, notwithstanding, a pair of she-goats from
Earnscliff, which fed on the moor, and supplied him with milk.

When Earnscliff found his gift had been received, he soon afterwards
paid the hermit a visit. The old man was seated an a broad flat stone
near his garden door, which was the seat of science he usually occupied
when disposed to receive his patients or clients. The inside of his hut,
and that of his garden, he kept as sacred from human intrusion as the
natives of Otaheite do their Morai;--apparently he would have deemed it
polluted by the step of any human being. When he shut himself up in his
habitation, no entreaty could prevail upon him to make himself visible,
or to give audience to any one whomsoever.

Earnscliff had been fishing in a small river at some distance. He had
his rod in his hand, and his basket, filled with trout, at his shoulder.
He sate down upon a stone nearly opposite to the Dwarf who, familiarized
with his presence, took no farther notice of him than by elevating his
huge mis-shapen head for the purpose of staring at him, and then again
sinking it upon his bosom, as if in profound meditation. Earnscliff
looked around him, and observed that the hermit had increased his
accommodations by the construction of a shed for the reception of his
goats.

"You labour hard, Elshie," he said, willing to lead this singular being
into conversation.

"Labour," re-echoed the Dwarf, "is the mildest evil of a lot so
miserable as that of mankind; better to labour like me, than sport like
you."

"I cannot defend the humanity of our ordinary rural sports, Elshie, and
yet--"

"And yet," interrupted the Dwarf, "they are better than your ordinary
business; better to exercise idle and wanton cruelty on mute fishes than
on your fellow-creatures. Yet why should I say so? Why should not the
whole human herd butt, gore, and gorge upon each other, till all are
extirpated but one huge and over-fed Behemoth, and he, when he had
throttled and gnawed the bones of all his fellows--he, when his prey
failed him, to be roaring whole days for lack of food, and, finally,
to die, inch by inch, of famine--it were a consummation worthy of the
race!"

"Your deeds are better, Elshie, than your words," answered Earnscliff;
"you labour to preserve the race whom your misanthropy slanders."

"I do; but why?--Hearken. You are one on whom I look with the least
loathing, and I care not, if, contrary to my wont, I waste a few words
in compassion to your infatuated blindness. If I cannot send disease
into families, and murrain among the herds, can I attain the same end
so well as by prolonging the lives of those who can serve the purpose of
destruction as effectually?--If Alice of Bower had died in winter, would
young Ruthwin have been slain for her love the last spring?--Who
thought of penning their cattle beneath the tower when the Red Reiver of
Westburnflat was deemed to be on his death-bed?--My draughts, my skill,
recovered him. And, now, who dare leave his herd upon the lea without a
watch, or go to bed without unchaining the sleuth-hound?"

"I own," answered Earnscliff; "you did little good to society by the
last of these cures. But, to balance the evil, there is my friend
Hobbie, honest Hobbie of the Heugh-foot, your skill relieved him last
winter in a fever that might have cost him his life."

"Thus think the children of clay in their ignorance," said: the Dwarf,
smiling maliciously, "and thus they speak in their folly. Have you
marked the young cub of a wild cat that has been domesticated, how
sportive, how playful, how gentle,--but trust him with your game, your
lambs, your poultry, his inbred ferocity breaks forth; he gripes, tears,
ravages, and devours."

"Such is the animal's instinct," answered Earnscliff; "but what has that
to do with Hobbie?"

"It is his emblem--it is his picture," retorted the Recluse. "He is
at present tame, quiet, and domesticated, for lack of opportunity to
exercise his inborn propensities; but let the trumpet of war sound--let
the young blood-hound snuff blood, he will be as ferocious as the
wildest of his Border ancestors that ever fired a helpless peasant's
abode. Can you deny, that even at present he often urges you to take
bloody revenge for an injury received when you were a boy?"--Earnscliff
started; the Recluse appeared not to observe his surprise, and
proceeded--"The trumpet WILL blow, the young blood-hound WILL lap blood,
and I will laugh and say, For this I have preserved thee!" He paused,
and continued,--"Such are my cures;--their object, their purpose,
perpetuating the mass of misery, and playing even in this desert my
part in the general tragedy. Were YOU on your sick bed, I might, in
compassion, send you a cup of poison."

"I am much obliged to you, Elshie, and certainly shall not fail to
consult you, with so comfortable a hope from your assistance."

"Do not flatter yourself too far," replied the Hermit, "with the hope
that I will positively yield to the frailty of pity. Why should I snatch
a dupe, so well fitted to endure the miseries of life as you are, from
the wretchedness which his own visions, and the villainy of the world,
are preparing for him? Why should I play the compassionate Indian, and,
knocking out the brains of the captive with my tomahawk, at once spoil
the three days' amusement of my kindred tribe, at the very moment when
the brands were lighted, the pincers heated, the cauldrons boiling,
the knives sharpened, to tear, scorch, seethe, and scarify the intended
victim?"

"A dreadful picture you present to me of life, Elshie; but I am not
daunted by it," returned Earnscliff. "We are sent here, in one sense, to
bear and to suffer; but, in another, to do and to enjoy. The active day
has its evening of repose; even patient sufferance has its alleviations,
where there is a consolatory sense of duty discharged."

"I spurn at the slavish and bestial doctrine," said the Dwarf, his eyes
kindling with insane fury,--"I spurn at it, as worthy only of the beasts
that perish; but I will waste no more words with you."

He rose hastily; but, ere he withdrew into the hut, he added, with great
vehemence, "Yet, lest you still think my apparent benefits to
mankind flow from the stupid and servile source, called love of our
fellow-creatures, know, that were there a man who had annihilated my
soul's dearest hope--who had torn my heart to mammocks, and seared my
brain till it glowed like a volcano, and were that man's fortune and
life in my power as completely as this frail potsherd" (he snatched up
an earthen cup which stood beside him), "I would not dash him into atoms
thus"--(he flung the vessel with fury against the wall),--"No!" (he
spoke more composedly, but with the utmost bitterness), "I would pamper
him with wealth and power to inflame his evil passions, and to fulfil
his evil designs; he should lack no means of vice and villainy; he
should be the centre of a whirlpool that itself should know neither rest
nor peace, but boil with unceasing fury, while it wrecked every goodly
ship that approached its limits! he should be an earthquake capable
of shaking the very land in which he dwelt, and rendering all its
inhabitants friendless, outcast, and miserable--as I am!"

The wretched being rushed into his hut as he uttered these last words,
shutting the door with furious violence, and rapidly drawing two bolts,
one after another, as if to exclude the intrusion of any one of that
hated race, who had thus lashed his soul to frenzy. Earnscliff left the
moor with mingled sensations of pity and horror, pondering what strange
and melancholy cause could have reduced to so miserable a state of
mind, a man whose language argued him to be of rank and education much
superior to the vulgar. He was also surprised to see how much particular
information a person who had lived in that country so short a time,
and in so recluse a manner, had been able to collect respecting the
dispositions and private affairs of the inhabitants.

"It is no wonder," he said to himself, "that with such extent of
information, such a mode of life, so uncouth a figure, and sentiments
so virulently misanthropic, this unfortunate should be regarded by the
vulgar as in league with the Enemy of Mankind."



CHAPTER V.

     The bleakest rock upon the loneliest heath
     Feels, in its barrenness, some touch of spring;
     And, in the April dew, or beam of May,
     Its moss and lichen freshen and revive;
     And thus the heart, most sear'd to human pleasure,
     Melts at the tear, joys in the smile, of woman.--BEAUMONT

As the season advanced, the weather became more genial, and the Recluse
was more frequently found occupying the broad flat stone in the front of
his mansion. As he sate there one day, about the hour of noon, a party
of gentlemen and ladies, well mounted, and numerously attended, swept
across the heath at some distance from his dwelling. Dogs, hawks, and
led-horses swelled the retinue, and the air resounded at intervals
with the cheer of the hunters, and the sound of horns blown by the
attendants. The Recluse was about to retire into his mansion at
the sight of a train so joyous, when three young ladies, with their
attendants, who had made a circuit, and detached themselves from their
party, in order to gratify their curiosity by a sight of the Wise Wight
of Mucklestane-Moor, came suddenly up, ere he could effect his purpose.
The first shrieked, and put her hands before her eyes, at sight of an
object so unusually deformed. The second, with a hysterical giggle,
which she intended should disguise her terrors, asked the Recluse,
whether he could tell their fortune. The third, who was best mounted,
best dressed, and incomparably the best-looking of the three, advanced,
as if to cover the incivility of her companions.

"We have lost the right path that leads through these morasses, and our
party have gone forward without us," said the young lady. "Seeing you,
father, at the door of your house, we have turned this way to--"

"Hush!" interrupted the Dwarf; "so young, and already so artful? You
came--you know you came, to exult in the consciousness of your own
youth, wealth, and beauty, by contrasting them with age, poverty, and
deformity. It is a fit employment for the daughter of your father; but O
how unlike the child of your mother!"

"Did you, then, know my parents, and do you know me?"

"Yes; this is the first time you have crossed my waking eyes, but I have
seen you in my dreams."

"Your dreams?"

"Ay, Isabel Vere. What hast thou, or thine, to do with my waking
thoughts?"

"Your waking thoughts, sir," said the second of Miss Vere's companions,
with a sort of mock gravity, "are fixed, doubtless, upon wisdom; folly
can only intrude on your sleeping moments."