“Keep down your sticks, lads—keep down your sticks. That’s no the game we are accustomed to play at; when we begin, cheeks and chaft blades are apt to dance a Highland fling. Keep off your hands, or, by the mettle of this old Ferrara, which never yet failed me against Turk or Tartar, ye shall have fewer hands to keep off.” Thus saying, Dalziell pushed up his horse, cutting right and left, in such a manner, however, as to terrify rather than seriously to injure; for he struck with the side and not with the edge of his weapon. In the meantime, Mr Austin was put to bed; his wife had recovered to a perception of her misery; and the cavalcade rode off, Dalziell having first appointed a guard of two men, to abide by the apparently dying man, till (as he expressed it) the “deil had his soul fairly in tow.” The day of the funeral of the poor maiden sister arrived, and with it came, through snow and storm, a considerable band of mountaineers, secretly armed with various weapons, but avowedly and openly prepared to convey the coffin to a considerable distance—to Dulgarno churchyard. The soldiers did everything in their power to annoy and obstruct, offering to assist in carrying, and then suddenly withdrawing their hands, and causing the coffin to fall to the ground—placing their muskets betwixt the feet of some of the company, and thus tripping up their heels, &c., &c. This was more than could be endured; so, after the funeral, a consultation was held, and it was agreed that, as Mr Austin was now considerably recovered, he and his wife should be conveyed from beneath surveillance of these horrid men. But how was this to be done? Many advices were tendered and discussed. At last, it was resolved upon that, about twelve o’clock at night, information having been previously given to the parties more immediately concerned, a company of twelve stout shepherd lads, armed with pistols and staves, should suddenly enter the door of Brownrig house, the bolt being previously drawn from within, and immediately seize upon and bind the twin demons, who had wrought, and were still working such dreadful mischief and cruelty. The minister and his lady were to be conveyed, through the snow, to the town of Moffat, about four miles distant, there to be concealed in a friend’s house, to whom a messenger was immediately despatched, advertising him of their purpose.