Yet, notwithstanding his assumed courage, he slackened his pace, when, nearly upon the very spot where he had last seen the tall figure, he discerned, as if lurking among the long heather, a small black rough-looking object, like a terrier dog. “He has nae dog that ever I heard of,” said Hobbie, “but mony a deil about his hand--lord forgie me for saying sic a word!--It keeps its grund, be what it like--I’m judging it’s a badger; but whae kens what shapes thae bogies will take to fright a body? it will maybe start up like a lion or a crocodile when I come nearer. I’se e’en drive a stage at it, for if it change its shape when I’m ower near, Tarras will never stand it; and it will be ower muckle to hae him and the deil to fight wi’ baith at ance.” He therefore cautiously threw a stone at the object, which continued motionless. “It’s nae living thing, after a’,” said Hobbie, approaching, “but the very bag o’ siller he flung out o’ the window yesterday! and that other queer lang creature has just brought it sae muckle farther on the way to me.” He then advanced and lifted the heavy fur pouch, which was quite full of gold. “Mercy on us!” said Hobbie, whose heart fluttered between glee at the revival of his hopes and prospects in life, and suspicion of the purpose for which this assistance was afforded him---“Mercy on us! it’s an awfu’ thing to touch what has been sae lately in the claws of something no canny, I canna shake mysell loose o’ the belief that there has been some jookery-paukery of Satan’s in a’ this; but I am determined to conduct mysell like an honest man and a good Christian, come o’t what will.”