"Eh, na, na!" cried Dallas; "ill as I am, I didna do that. I just took her roklay and her gown, an some ither wee things aperteenin' till her, and syne I gade aff wi' mysel', leaving her to come roond to life at her nain leisure and convenience." "Leaving her to die without help you mean, you murdering thief!" said the Pensassenach, shrinking back with horror from the very touch of him. "Wretch, you are unworthy of life! But I shall not be your executioner. You will grace a gallows yet, I'll warrant you. I shall now leave Morag to pull you out of the water. But hark ye, Mr. Dallas, before I leave you, I may as well tell you, that though I have spared your life, as indeed I never had the least intention of taking it, I advise you never to darken my door again; for, if you do, I promise you that you shall have another and a deeper taste of this lint-pot." "Oh, bless you, memm!" cried Mr. Dallas, with an earnestness which showed how much he was relieved by her words; "I'll never come within five miles o' your farm. Noo, Morag, my dawty," continued he, addressing the maid after the mistress was gone; "gudesake, woman, be quick an' pu' me oot; or, as sure as death, I'll dee o't awthegither." "Fawse loons tat she is," said Morag, looking terribly at him. "She will no pu' her oot; she wull pit her toon in ta holl, an' troon her! She is a wicked vullian--she wull pit her toon in ta holl an' troon her wissout nae mercy at a' at a'." "Oh!" cried the terrified Dallas, with his eye-balls again starting from his head with apprehension. "Oh, dinna droon me, noo that your mistress has spared me! I wus ragin' fu' wi' brandy last nicht, and I didna ken what I wus doin'; and maybe I wus a wee unceevil till ye, or the like. But oh, hae mercy, hae mercy on me!" "She'll no be ta waur o' a gude tooky tan," said Morag, seizing the sack, and plunging the gasping Mr. Dallas two or three times successively under the water; "tat'll cool ta hot speerits in her stamick, or she pe far mistane." "Oh! O! O! Och! hech! och! oh!--O!" cried Dallas, gasping and panting. "O, mercy, mercy! an' I hadna drucken a' yon oceans o' brandy yester nicht, I had assuredly been a dead man this day, just frae very cauld itsel'. But the brandy o' yestreen has saved me frae a' the water that my body has imbibit frae this nasty lint-pot, by actuwully makin' a kind o' wake punch o' me. Oh, gude lassie that ye are, pu' me oot, pu me oot!" "Its mair nor she's weel deservan'," said Morag, now putting forth all her strength to pull the sack and its contents up out of the water; "but Morag canna let a man be trooned an she can help it, pad man so she pe."