Another hour of mirth and jollity, of dance and song soon sped around. Souter and Molly were still the center of an admiring group, for they had seen the witches with their own eyes, and that distinction was theirs alone that night. Suddenly the old clock struck twelve, then began a merry scrambling for bonnets and plaids. Having donned them, they noisily crowded around their hostesses, who were lined up against the wall, waiting ceremoniously to be thanked for their hospitality and to bid their parting guests godspeed. As the darts of homely wit and repartee flew back and forth among them, causing the lads to burst into uproarious laughter or to grin in awkward bashfulness, and the lassies to turn their heads away blushingly or to toss their curls coquettishly, the door burst in suddenly, and Tam O’Shanter staggered to the center of the floor, pale, wild-eyed, and disheveled. “Tam O’Shanter!” they cried, gazing at him in startled amazement. Souter quickly reached his old cronie’s side. “What’s the matter, mon? hae ye seen a ghost?” he asked concernedly. “Aye, worse than that, much worse,” hoarsely replied Tam, wiping the sweat from off his forehead with a trembling hand. “What’s happened?” cried old Bess fearfully. “Calm yoursel’ an’ tell us, Tam,” said Souter soothingly. They brought him a chair, for he trembled like an aspen leaf. Throwing himself into it, he gazed about him fearfully, the while struggling to regain his breath. “Well,’tis this way, Souter,” he began presently in a husky whisper. “I left the Arms Inn about an hour ago or thereabouts an’ started for hame, for ’tis a long ride to Carrick, ye ken, an’ a most uncanny ride e’en in the daylight.” “That’s true,” affirmed Poosie Nancy with a nod of conviction to the others. “Weel,” continued Tam impressively, “a few miles beyond the Maypole road ye have to pass a dark, uncanny spot, the cairn where the hunters found the murdered bairn. Ye ken the spot, Souter?” turning to him for confirmation. Souter nodded his head quickly. “Aye, Tam, I ken it weel, for ’twas near there old Mingo’s mother hanged hersel’.” Old Bess looked over her shoulder nervously. “Aye,” eagerly assented Tam, then he continued, “Weel, a weird sight awaited me there; my blood runs cold noo. Suddenly I heard a sound o’ music and revelry, and Maggie stopped still, frightened stiff. I looked up, and glimmering thro’ the trees was auld Kirk Alloway all a blaze o’ light.” He paused to note the effect of his astounding statement. They looked at each other disbelievingly. Some turned angrily away, muttering to themselves. Was old Tam making sport of them? “Go alang, mon,” cried Poosie Nancy with an incredulous sniff of her pug nose. “’Tis naught but an old tumbled down ruin.” “I’m telling ye gospel truth,” replied Tam earnestly. They crowded around again, ready to be convinced, though still eying him distrustfully.