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
Then you may consider, my Lord Abbot, what they were for mortal eyes,
especially such a run of them, which were every night varied in their
horrors, and terminated in something perfectly distinct from all those
preceding. On the second night the bridegroom was a foreign merchant, a
man of bustle and punctuality, who said he could not remain late with
his kind convivial friends, and was under the necessity of carrying his
bride off at an early hour, having business of importance to transact
on the morrow. It was a speculation, he said, on which he calculated
making a good profit, and a man who was coming in to have a wife, and in
all probability a small family to maintain, required to look after and
attend to these matters. The witch caressed him in ecstacy when he made
this speech, and proffered to go with him as soon as he chose. She
saluted her cronies, and bade them farewell; and although there is no
love among those sort of people, yet there was still so much of human
nature remaining, that there seemed to subsist a degree of regret that
they should never meet again. My own heart was even sore for the
wretched beldame; for I had witnessed a scene the preceding night which
had been withheld from her view, and those of the other brides that were
to be; and I knew that a fate somewhat similar awaited them all. They
mounted this one behind the spruce merchant on a tall gallant charger
whose eyes gleamed like lightning, and away they set over the leas of
Carterhaugh, at a light gallop; but at every bound the swiftness of the
steed increased, till it was quickly beyond the speed of the eagle. The
witch held like grim death, and would fain have expostulated with the
bridegroom on the madness of risking their necks for a little per
centage,--but her velocity was such that she could make no farther
speech of it, than just a squeak now and then like a shot hare. The
reckless merchant flew on, still increasing his rapidity, until he came
to the very highest rock of the Harehead linn. The witch knew of the
dreadful chasm that was before them, and weening that her husband did
not know she uttered a piercing shriek; but the void was only thirty
yards across and a hundred deep, so the fearless merchant, meaning to
take it at one leap, made his charger bound from the top of the
precipice. The infernal courser cleared the linn, but the witch's head
failing, she toppled off about the middle space. There were two
fishermen spearing salmon in the bottom of the gulf, who saw the
phenomenon pass over their heads, and the wife lose her hold and fall
off; they heard her likewise saying, as she came adown the air, "Aih,
what a fa' I will get!" And as she said, so it fell out; for she
alighted on the rocks a short space from the place where they stood, and
was literally dashed in pieces; but the steed ran away with the merchant
over hill and dale like a thunderbolt, and neither the one nor the other
ever looked over his shoulder to see what had befallen the bride.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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