At the same time this would have been no safe adventure. The flame, as it rose and fell, while it displayed the strong, muscular, and broad-chested frame of the ruffian, glanced also upon two brace of pistols in his belt, and upon the hilt of his cutlass: it was not to be doubted that his desperation was commensurate with his personal strength and means of resistance. Both, indeed, were inadequate to encounter the combined power of two such men as Bertram himself and his friend Dinmont, without reckoning their unexpected assistant Hazlewood, who was unarmed, and of a lighter make; but Bertram felt, on a moment's reflection, that there would be neither sense nor valour in anticipating the hangman's office, and he considered the importance of making Hatteraick prisoner alive. He therefore repressed his indignation, and awaited that should pass between the ruffian and his gipsy guide. "And how are ye now?" said the harsh and discordant tones of his female attendant "Said I not it would come upon you--ay, and in this very cave, where ye harboured after the deed." "Wetter and sturm, ye hag!" replied Hatteraick, "keep your deyvil's matins till they're wanted. Have you seen Glossin?" "No," replied Meg Merrilies. "you've missed your blow, ye blood-spiller! and ye have nothing to expect from the tempter." "Hagel!" exclaimed the ruffian, "if I had him but by the throat!-and what am I to do then?" "Do?" answered the gipsy; "die like a man, or be hanged like a dog!" "Hanged, ye hag of Satan!-the hemp's not sown that shall hang me." "lt's sown, and it's grown, and it's heckled, and it's twisted. Did I not tell ye, when ye wad take away the boy Harry Bertram, in spite of my prayers,--did I not say he would come back when he had dree'd his weird in foreign land till his twenty-first year?--Did I not say the auld fire would burn down to a spark, but wad kindle again?" "Well, mother, you did say so," said Hatteraick in a tone that had something of despair in its accents; "and, donner and blitzen! I believe you spoke the truth--that younker of Ellangowan has been a rock ahead to me all my life! and now, with Glossin's cursed contrivance, my crew have been cut off, my boats destroyed, and I dare say the lugger's taken--there were not men enough left on board to work her, far less to fight her--a dredge-boat might have taken her. And what will the owners say?--Hagel and sturm! I shall never dare go back again to Flushing." "You'll never need," said the gipsy. "What are you doing there," said her companion, "and what makes you say that?"