Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 01
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 01
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"Proud, pitiless fool," resumed Elspeth, more bitterly than before,
"repress your scorn. Whom, think ye, ye treat wi' contempt? Ken ye not
that the humble adder which ye tread upon can destroy ye--that the very
wasp can sting ye, and there is poison in its sting? Ye laugh, but for
your want of humanity this night, sorrow shall turn your head grey, lang
before age sit down upon your brow."
"Off! off! ye wretches!" added the laird; "vent your threats on the
wind, if it will hear ye, for I regard them as little as it will. But
keep out o' my way for the future, as ye would escape the honours o' a
hempen cravat, and the hereditary exaltation o' your race."
Willie Faa made a sign to his followers, and without speaking they
instantly rose and departed; but, as he himself reached the door, he
turned round, and significantly striking the hilt of his dagger,
exclaimed--
"Clennel! ye shall rue it!"
And the hoarse voice of Elspeth without, as the sound was borne away on
the storm, was heard crying--"He shall rue it!" and repeating her
imprecations.
Until now, poor Andrew Smith had lain groaning upon the floor more dead
than alive, though not exactly "stone dead" as he expressed it; and
ever, as he heard his master's angry voice, he groaned the more, until
in his agony he doubted his existence. When, therefore, on the departure
of the Faas, the laird dragged him to his feet, and feeling some pity
for his terror, spoke to him more mildly, Andrew gazed vacantly around
him, his teeth chattering together, and he first placed his hands upon
his sides, to feel whether he was still indeed the identical flesh,
blood, and bones of Andrew Smith, or his disembodied spirit; and being
assured that he was still a man, he put down his hand to feel for his
chronometer, and again he groaned bitterly--and although he now knew he
was not dead, he almost wished he were so. The other servants thought
also of their money and their trinkets, which, as well as poor Andrew's
chronometer, Elspeth, in the hurry in which she was rudely driven from
the house, had, by a slip of memory, neglected to return to their lawful
owners.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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