“Hout, Earnscliff, ye keep a record of a’ men’s misdoings--Dick’s head’s healed again, and we’re to fight out the quarrel at Jeddart, on the Rood-day, so that’s like a thing settled in a peaceable way; and then I am friends wi’ Willie again, puir chield--it was but twa or three hail draps after a’. I wad let onybody do the like o’t to me for a pint o’ brandy. But Willie’s lowland bred, poor fallow, and soon frighted for himsell--And, for the worricows, were we to meet ane on this very bit--” “As is not unlikely,” said young Earnscliff, “for there stands your old witch, Hobbie.” “I say,” continued Elliot, as if indignant at this hint--“I say, if the auld carline hersell was to get up out o’ the grund just before us here, I would think nae mair--But, gude preserve us, Earnscliff; what can yon, be!” CHAPTER III. Brown Dwarf, that o’er the moorland strays, Thy name to Keeldar tell! “The Brown Man of the Moor, that stays Beneath the heather-bell.”--JOHN LEYDEN The object which alarmed the young farmer in the middle of his valorous protestations, startled for a moment even his less prejudiced companion. The moon, which had arisen during their conversation, was, in the phrase of that country, wading or struggling with clouds, and shed only a doubtful and occasional light. By one of her beams, which streamed upon the great granite column to which they now approached, they discovered a form, apparently human, but of a size much less than ordinary, which moved slowly among the large grey stones, not like a person intending to journey onward, but with the slow, irregular, flitting movement of a being who hovers around some spot of melancholy recollection, uttering also, from time to time, a sort of indistinct muttering sound. This so much resembled his idea of the motions of an apparition, that Hobbie Elliot, making a dead pause, while his hair erected itself upon his scalp, whispered to his companion, “It’s Auld Ailie hersell! Shall I gie her a shot, in the name of God?” “For Heaven’s sake, no,” said his companion, holding down the weapon which he was about to raise to the aim--“for Heaven’s sake, no; it’s some poor distracted creature.” “Ye’re distracted yoursell, for thinking of going so near to her,” said Elliot, holding his companion in his turn, as he prepared to advance. “We’ll aye hae time to pit ower a bit prayer (an I could but mind ane) afore she comes this length--God! she’s in nae hurry,” continued he, growing bolder from his companion’s confidence, and the little notice the apparition seemed to take of them. “She hirples like a hen on a het girdle. I redd ye, Earnscliff” (this he added in a gentle whisper), “let us take a cast about, as if to draw the wind on a buck--the bog is no abune knee-deep, and better a saft road as bad company.” [The Scots use the epithet soft, IN MALAM PARTEM, in two cases, at least. A SOFT road is a road through quagmire and bogs; and SOFT weather signifies that which is very rainy.]