THE COMPLETE TALES OF MY LANDLORD (Illustrated Edition). Walter Scott

did not feel. The neighbouring inhabitants of the dell, particularly those of his own name, had already assembled. The younger part were in arms and clamorous for revenge, although they knew not upon whom; the elder were taking measures for the relief of the distressed family. Annaple’s cottage, which was situated down the brook, at some distance from the scene of mischief, had been hastily adapted for the temporary accommodation of the old lady and her daughters, with such articles as had been contributed by the neighbours, for very little was saved from the wreck.

      “Are we to stand here a’ day, sirs,” exclaimed one tall young man, “and look at the burnt wa’s of our kinsman’s house? Every wreath of the reek is a blast of shame upon us! Let us to horse, and take the chase. — Who has the nearest bloodhound?”

      “It’s young Earnscliff,” answered another; “and he’s been on and away wi’ six horse lang syne, to see if he can track them.”

      “Let us follow him then, and raise the country, and mak mair help as we ride, and then have at the Cumberland reivers! Take, burn, and slay — they that lie nearest us shall smart first.”

      “Whisht! haud your tongues, daft callants,” said an old man, “ye dinna ken what ye speak about. What! wad ye raise war atween two pacificated countries?”

      “And what signifies deaving us wi’ tales about our fathers,” retorted the young; man, “if we’re to sit and see our friends’ houses burnt ower their heads, and no put out hand to revenge them? Our fathers did not do that, I trow?”

      “I am no saying onything against revenging Hobbie’s wrang, puir chield; but we maun take the law wi’ us in thae days, Simon,” answered the more prudent elder.

      “And besides,” said another old man, “I dinna believe there’s ane now living that kens the lawful mode of following a fray across the Border. Tam o’ Whittram kend a’ about it; but he died in the hard winter.”

      “Ay,” said a third, “he was at the great gathering, when they chased as far as Thirlwall; it was the year after the fight of Philiphaugh.”

      “Hout,” exclaimed another of these discording counsellors, “there’s nae great skill needed; just put a lighted peat on the end of a spear, or hayfork, or siclike, and blaw a horn, and cry the gathering-word, and then it’s lawful to follow gear into England, and recover it by the strong hand, or to take gear frae some other Englishman, providing ye lift nae mair than’s been lifted frae you. That’s the auld Border law, made at Dundrennan, in the days of the Black Douglas, Deil ane need doubt it. It’s as clear as the sun.”

      “Come away, then, lads,” cried Simon, “get to your geldings, and we’ll take auld Cuddie the muckle tasker wi’ us; he kens the value o’ the stock and plenishing that’s been lost. Hobbie’s stalls and stakes shall be fou again or night; and if we canna big up the auld house sae soon, we’se lay an English ane as low as Heughfoot is — and that’s fair play, a’ the warld ower.”

      This animating proposal was received with great applause by the younger part of the assemblage, when a whisper ran among them, “There’s Hobbie himsell, puir fallow! we’ll be guided by him.”

      The principal sufferer, having now reached the bottom of the hill, pushed on through the crowd, unable, from the tumultuous state of his feelings, to do more than receive and return the grasps of the friendly hands by which his neighbours and kinsmen mutely expressed their sympathy in his misfortune. While he pressed Simon of Hackburn’s hand, his anxiety at length found words. “Thank ye, Simon — thank ye, neighbours — I ken what ye wad a’ say. But where are they? — Where are — ” He stopped, as if afraid even to name the objects of his enquiry; and with a similar feeling, his kinsmen, without reply, pointed to the hut, into which Hobbie precipitated himself with the desperate air of one who is resolved to know the worst at once. A general and powerful expression of sympathy accompanied him. “Ah, puir fallow — puir Hobbie!”

      “He’ll learn the warst o’t now!”

      “But I trust Earnscliff will get some speerings o’ the puir lassie.”

      Such were the exclamations of the group, who, having no acknowledged leader to direct their motions, passively awaited the return of the sufferer, and determined to be guided by his directions.

      The meeting between Hobbie and his family was in the highest degree affecting. His sisters threw themselves upon him, and almost stifled him with their caresses, as if to prevent his looking round to distinguish the absence of one yet more beloved.

      “God help thee, my son! He can help when worldly trust is a broken reed.” — Such was the welcome of the matron to her unfortunate grandson. He looked eagerly round, holding two of his sisters by the hand, while the third hung about his neck — ”I see you — I count you — my grandmother, Lilias, Jean, and Annot; but where is — ” (he hesitated, and then continued, as if with an effort), “Where is Grace? Surely this is not a time to hide hersell frae me — there’s nae time for daffing now.”

      “O, brother!” and “Our poor Grace!” was the only answer his questions could procure, till his grandmother rose up, and gently disengaged him from the weeping girls, led him to a seat, and with the affecting serenity which sincere piety, like oil sprinkled on the waves, can throw over the most acute feelings, she said, “My bairn, when thy grandfather was killed in the wars, and left me with six orphans around me, with scarce bread to eat, or a roof to cover us, I had strength, — not of mine own — but I had strength given me to say, The Lord’s will be done! — My son, our peaceful house was last night broken into by mosstroopers, armed and masked; they have taken and destroyed all, and carried off our dear Grace. Pray for strength to say, His will be done!”

      “Mother! mother! urge me not — I cannot — not now I am a sinful man, and of a hardened race. Masked armed — Grace carried off! Gie me my sword, and my father’s knapsack — I will have vengeance, if I should go to the pit of darkness to seek it!”

      “O my bairn, my bairn! be patient under the rod. Who knows when He may lift His hand off from us? Young Earnscliff, Heaven bless him, has taen the chase, with Davie of Stenhouse, and the first comers. I cried to let house and plenishing burn, and follow the reivers to recover Grace, and Earnscliff and his men were ower the Fell within three hours after the deed. God bless him! he’s a real Earnscliff; he’s his father’s true son — a leal friend.”

      “A true friend indeed; God bless him!” exclaimed Hobbie; “let’s on and away, and take the chase after him.”

      “O, my child, before you run on danger, let me hear you but say, HIS will be done!”

      “Urge me not, mother — not now.” He was rushing out, when, looking back, he observed his grandmother make a mute attitude of affliction. He returned hastily, threw himself into her arms, and said, “Yes, mother, I CAN say, HIS will be done, since it will comfort you.”

      “May He go forth — may He go forth with you, my dear bairn; and O, may He give you cause to say on your return, HIS name be praised!”

      “Farewell, mother! — farewell, my dear sisters!” exclaimed Elliot, and rushed out of the house.

Chapter VIII

       Table of Contents

      Now horse and hattock, cried the Laird, —

       Now horse and hattock, speedilie;

       They that winna ride for Telfer’s kye,

       Let them never look in the face o’ me.

      Border Ballad.

      “Horse! horse! and spear!” exclaimed Hobbie to his kinsmen. Many a ready foot was in the stirrup; and, while Elliot hastily collected arms and accoutrements, no easy matter in such a confusion, the glen resounded with the approbation of his younger friends.

      “Ay,