John accordingly ran with the Pensassenach to the old kiln, as fast as his legs could carry him and his burden. He found it already occupied by the great sow and her numerous progeny, who, from their unwillingness to quit it, seemed to consider it, both by birthright, and by long possession, as their own particular castle, from which no one could lawfully remove them. John Smith used no great ceremony with them, but serving them all with an instantaneous process of ejectment, delivered by divers rapid and severe blows of his hazle cudgel, he forthwith dislodged them from the pend, or fire-place of the kiln, where they were used to find a dry and snug lair, and from which both mother and children retreated with manifest dissatisfaction, and with all manner of sounds and signs of extreme ire. To these John Smith gave but small heed, but, shoving the Pensassenach, blanket and all, with as much tenderness and delicacy as he could, into this their vacant bed-chamber, he concealed her as much as possible by covering her up with straw, and he had hardly accomplished all this, and made his retreat good from the killogie, when a large body of armed Highlanders, under the command of a certain Captain M'Taggart, appeared filing over the neighbouring brow, and with what intent might easily be guessed, from the numerous horses they brought with them, some harnessed in rude carts, and some fitted with panniers or crooked saddles, for carrying off plunder. The men themselves displayed infuriated countenances, and ceased not, as they drew nearer, to give vent to the most horrible denunciations of vengeance against the Pensassenach. "Ta Pensassenach! ta Pensassenach!" cried the same stern voice that had spoken from amid the darkness that surrounded the blazing bonfire of the preceding night. "She sall soon ken fat it is to trink confusion to ta reypells! Far be ta Pensassenach?--ta Englis wife?" "Ta Pensassenach!--ta Pensassenach!--ta heart's blott o' ta Pensassenach!--hang her!--purn her!--troon her!--far is she?--her heart's blott!--her heart's blott!" vociferated some thirty or forty rough and raging voices, coming from men that thirsted revengefully for her blood.