“Nay, I’m the Deil himsel’,” answered Souter in awe-inspiring accents. Molly groaned aloud, in mortal terror, not daring to turn around. “An’ I’ve come for ye, Molly Dunn,” slowly continued her tormentor. “Nay, nay!” cried Molly, her eyes staring wildly in front of her. “I want naught to do wi’ ye; gang awa’, gang awa’!” and she wildly waved her hands behind her. “Not till ye’ve seen the face o’ the man ye’ll wed,” replied the voice. “Beauteous fairy of Hallowe’en, come forth,” he commanded majestically, beckoning to Mary to come nearer. She did so. “Speak, kind fairy.” He whispered to her what to say to the awestruck Molly. Thus admonished, Mary, who was once more her old light-hearted winsome self, raised her sweet voice and spoke in a high falsetto, “Gaze in the looking-glass, Molly Dunn; eat o’ the apple, think o’ the one ye desire to see, an’ his face will appear beside yours.” “Behold, I pass the magic wand o’er your head, ye faithless woman,” added Souter threateningly. Hurriedly Molly complied with the injunctions, and patiently she knelt there, apple in hand, the candle light glaring full on her eager, ugly face, and the wisp of faded hair tied tightly on top of her head, which was waving wildly about, while she waited for the face to appear beside her own reflection in the glass. “Do ye see him yet?” asked Mary eagerly, forgetting her rôle of “The Fairy of Hallowe’en,” and speaking in her natural tone, while the group at the doorway drew closer to the kneeling woman in their excited curiosity. “Nay, not yet,” replied Molly in an awestruck whisper. “Hold the candle higher,” admonished Souter, “an’ eat quicker.” Molly did so. “Noo do you see your handsome lover?” He crept up slyly behind Molly, and bending over her shoulder, peered into the glass, where he beheld the shadowy reflection of his own face looming up beside that of the wondering Molly. With a gasp of pleasure not unmixed with fear, she dropped the glass, and turning quickly grabbed the surprised Souter and held him close. As she raised her candle to see whom the fairies had sent to her, she recognized her tormentor, and with a shriek of rage, she clouted the laughing Souter over the head with her candlestick, amid peals of laughter from the delighted spectators, until he called for mercy. “Dinna I suit ye, Molly?” he asked in an injured tone, nursing his sorely punished head. “Ye skelpie limmer’s face, ye, how dare ye try sich sportin’ wi’ me?” she cried angrily. “The glass canna’ lie,” called out old Bess with a shake of her frilled cap. “An’ ye seen Souter’s face there, Molly,” laughed Poosie Nancy loudly. “There’s no gainsaying that.” “I want a braw mon, a handsome mon,” whimpered Molly. “Ye’re no a mon at all, ye wee skelpie limmer.” The burst of laughter which greeted this sally was very disconcerting to Souter, whose height, five feet two inches, was distinctly a sore subject. “Try anither charm, Molly,” said Mary, feeling sorry for the poor innocent.