By this time Annaple, with a brow like a tragic volume, had hobbled towards him, and caught his horse by the bridle. The despair in her look was so evident as to deprive even him of the power of asking the cause. “O my bairn!” she cried, “gang na forward--gang na forward--it’s a sight to kill onybody, let alane thee.” “In God’s name, what’s the matter?” said the astonished horseman, endeavouring to extricate his bridle from the grasp of the old woman; “for Heaven’s sake, let me go and see what’s the matter.” “Ohon! that I should have lived to see the day!--The steading’s a’ in a low, and the bonny stack-yard lying in the red ashes, and the gear a’ driven away. But gang na forward; it wad break your young heart, hinny, to see what my auld een hae seen this morning.” “And who has dared to do this? let go my bridle, Annaple--where is my grandmother--my sisters?--Where is Grace Armstrong?--God!--the words of the warlock are knelling in my ears!” He sprang from his horse to rid himself of Annaple’s interruption, and, ascending the hill with great speed, soon came in view of the spectacle with which she had threatened him. It was indeed a heart-breaking sight. The habitation which he had left in its seclusion, beside the mountain-stream, surrounded with every evidence of rustic plenty, was now a wasted and blackened ruin. From amongst the shattered and sable walls the smoke continued to rise. The turf-stack, the barn-yard, the offices stocked with cattle, all the wealth of an upland cultivator of the period, of which poor Elliot possessed no common share, had been laid waste or carried off in a single night. He stood a moment motionless, and then exclaimed, “I am ruined--ruined to the ground!--But curse on the warld’s gear--Had it not been the week before the bridal--But I am nae babe, to sit down and greet about it. If I can but find Grace, and my grandmother, and my sisters weel, I can go to the wars in Flanders, as my gude-sire did, under the Bellenden banner, wi’ auld Buccleuch. At ony rate, I will keep up a heart, or they will lose theirs a’thegither.” Manfully strode Hobbie down the hill, resolved to suppress his own despair, and administer consolation which he did not feel. The neighbouring inhabitants of the dell, particularly those of his own name, had already assembled. The younger part were in arms and clamorous for revenge, although they knew not upon whom; the elder were taking measures for the relief of the distressed family. Annaple’s cottage, which was situated down the brook, at some distance from the scene of mischief, had been hastily adapted for the temporary accommodation of the old lady and her daughters, with such articles as had been contributed by the neighbours, for very little was saved from the wreck.