The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 3 (of 3) — John Shaqi
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 3 (of 3)Hogg, James
History
The Three Perils of Man; or, War, Women, and Witchcraft, Vol. 3 (of 3)
Hogg, James
Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Robert II, 1371-1390 -- Fiction
"Weel answered, and like yoursel, Dan!" said one of the yeomen, and
slapped him on the shoulder, which rousing his spirit still farther,
he added, "Confound you Robin's Geordie o' Feindhope-haugh, what for
didna ye strike when the foul thief set up his gousty gab at your nose
wi' his impudent bow-wow-wow; I see nae right ony o' God's creatures
hae to be hurlbarrowed out o' their standing wi' him."
As he finished the remark, there was something came to the door, and
gave two or three rude impatient scratches, exactly in the same manner
that a strong dog does that wants to be in. This instantly changed the
cheer of our sturdy group, that with one involuntary movement closed
round the hearth, as the point the most distant from the door.
"That's him again," said the miller's lass.
"The Lord forbid," said the miller: "I wonder what multure he wants
frae me. Though I live on the lands of a Master of Arts, I had nae
inkling that I was thirl to hell. Brave lads, can nane of you rhame a
mass, a credo, or a paternoster? He is but a coward at best; I hae
kend a monk, wi' his crosier and his cowl, chace him like a rabbit."
"I fear we'll prove but lame hands at that," said Dan, "and think we
had better sally out on him sword in hand, and see what he can either
say or do for himself. But, Chryste, I needna say that, considering
that I ken sae weel what his lining's made of."
"I hae a cross and chain in the house," said the miller, "that was
consecrated at the shrine of St Bothan; whoever will be our leader
shall bear that before him, and we'll bang the auld thief away frae
our bigging."
The scratching was renewed with redoubled fury. Our yeomen crowded
closer around the fire, till all at once their ears were saluted by a
furious "bow-wow-wow" down the lum, which, in spite of their utmost
resolution, scattered them like a covey of heath-fowl over which the
hawk is hovering, when every one endeavours to shift for itself, and
hide in its own heather bush.
Their faces were by this time flushed with shame as well as fear, that
they should be thus cuffed about by "the auld thief," as they styled
him. Resolved, therefore, to make one great and strenuous effort, the
miller brought out his consecrated cross, some tied sticks, and others
horn spoons across, till all were armed with the same irresistible
symbol, and then they marshalled up before the fire, uncovered their
heads, and with the ensigns reared before them, waited for a moment
the word of command to march out to the grand attack. The arch fiend,
not choosing to wait the issue, raised such a horse laugh on the top
of the lum that their ears were deafened with the noise; and clapping
his paws that sounded like the strokes of battering ram's horns, he
laughed till the upper and nether millstones chattered against each
other, and away he bounded through the clouds of the night, apparently
in an agony of laughter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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