"I do; but why?—Hearken. You are one on whom I look with the least loathing, and I care not, if, contrary to my wont, I waste a few words in compassion to your infatuated blindness. If I cannot send disease into families, and murrain among the herds, can I attain the same end so well as by prolonging the lives of those who can serve the purpose of destruction as effectually?—If Alice of Bower had died in winter, would young Ruthwin have been slain for her love the last spring? Who thought of penning their cattle beneath the tower when the Red Riever of Westburnflat was deemed to be on his death-bed?—My draughts, my skill recovered him. And, now, who dare leave his herd upon the lea without a watch, or go to bed without unchaining the sleuth- hound?"
"I own," answered Earnscliff, "you did little good to society by the last of these cures. But, to balance the evil, there is my friend Hobbie, honest Hobbie of the Heughfoot, your skill relieved him last
