'The flints are gude,' she said, 'and the powder dry; I ken this wark
weel.'
Then, without answering his questions, she armed Dinmont also with a
large pistol, and desired them to choose sticks for themselves out of a
parcel of very suspicious-looking bludgeons which she brought from a
corner. Bertram took a stout sapling, and Dandie selected a club which
might have served Hercules himself. They then left the hut together,
and in doing so Bertram took an opportunity to whisper to Dinmont,
'There's something inexplicable in all this. But we need not use these
arms unless we see necessity and lawful occasion; take care to do as
you see me do.'
Dinmont gave a sagacious nod, and they continued to follow, over wet
and over dry, through bog and through fallow, the footsteps of their
conductress. She guided them to the wood of Warroch by the same track
which the late Ellangowan had used when riding to Derncleugh in quest
of his child on the miserable evening of Kennedy's murder.
When Meg Merrilies had attained these groves, through which the wintry
sea-wind was now whistling hoarse and shrill, she seemed to pause a
moment as if to recollect the way. 'We maun go the precise track,' she
said, and continued to go forward, but rather in a zigzag and involved
course than according to her former steady and direct line of motion.
At length she guided them through the mazes of the wood to a little
open glade of about a quarter of an acre, surrounded by trees and
bushes, which made a wild and irregular boundary. Even in winter it was
a sheltered and snugly sequestered spot; but when arrayed in the
verdure of spring, the earth sending forth all its wild flowers, the
shrubs spreading their waste of blossom around it, and the weeping
birches, which towered over the underwood, drooping their long and
leafy fibres to intercept the sun, it must have seemed a place for a
youthful poet to study his earliest sonnet, or a pair of lovers to
exchange their first mutual avowal of affection. Apparently it now
awakened very different recollections. Bertram's brow, when he had
looked round the spot, became gloomy and embarrassed. Meg, after
uttering to herself, 'This is the very spot!' looked at him with a
ghastly side-glance--'D'ye mind it?'
'Yes!' answered Bertram, 'imperfectly I do.'
'Ay!' pursued his guide, 'on this very spot the man fell from his
horse. I was behind that bourtree bush at the very moment. Sair, sair
he strove, and sair he cried for mercy; but he was in the hands of them
that never kenn'd the word! Now will I show you the further track; the
last time ye travelled it was in these arms.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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