"What dost say, little one--my beloved Lilian I mean--you will struggle, you will scream? Permit me to insinuate, my dear Madam, that it will be worse than useless, for nothing can avail you now but pleasing me; a course I would advise you to pursue forthwith. I know some devilish fine women that would be proud to do it--crush me if I do not! My dearest Lilian, (what was I saying?) I will teach thee to love as I would wish to be loved. My heart and coronet are at your feet--will not sincere love beget love? By all the devils, I know it will! You will pardon all this to-morrow, for I know women forgive all that has love for an excuse; then how much more so you, that are ever so gentle and kind, when other dames are so haughty and cold; d--n them! amen. You think me a wicked ruffian, eh? Zounds! I am not at all so, but a very fine fellow in every respect, though an unfortunate victim of love to thee and fear of a few rascally creditors. My pretty Lilian, in fact I love thee so tremendously, that even the pen of Scuderi could never describe it; and I swear by this kiss, dear Lilian, and this--and this--a thousand furies! where am I?" He became sobered in a moment, for, on removing the mantle to salute the soft cheek of the girl, instead of beholding, as he expected, the head of a seraph peeping forth from a mass of bright ringlets, lo! a ray of the sickly moon streamed on the hooked nose, peaked chin, grey haired, and smoke-begrimed visage of Elsie Elshender. "Horror!" exclaimed Clermistonlee, whose rhapsody this terrible vision had cut short. "Avaunt, hag of hell!" and, trembling in every fibre with rage and disgust, he flung the poor woman from his arms, and goading his horse with the sharp rowels, dashed up the dark and rough Kirk Brae at a break-neck pace; while Juden, totally unable to comprehend what had taken place in front, partly drew up as the female rolled by the way-side, near the gate of the Place of Bruntisfield. "Awa wi' ye! fie and out upon ye, ye sons o' the scarlet woman!" exclaimed Elsie in great wrath and tribulation, for she soon recovered the use of her tongue. "May a' the plagues of Egypt fa' upon your ungodly heads! May the Lord send cursing vexation and rebuke! Out upon ye! fie, and a murrain upon ye!" Juden was astonished; but no sooner did he hear her shrill voice, and behold by the moonlight her aged and withered visage, with long tangled hair falling grey around it, than he became seized with a superstitious terror, which the raising of her long skinny arm and crooked finger, as if to curse, completed; and he stayed not to hear the expected anathema.