the Trysting-pool. Tell my brothers, when they come up, to follow and meet us there—Poor lads, they will hae hearts weel nigh as sair as mine—little think they what a sorrowful house they are bringing their venison to—I'll ride ower Mucklestane-Moor mysel."
"And if I were you," said Dick of the Dingle, "I would speak to canny Elshie. He can tell ye whatever betides in this land, if he's sae minded."
"He shall tell me," said Hobbie, who was busy putting his arms in order, "what he kens o' this night's job, or I shall right weel ken wherefore he does not."
"Ay, but speak him fair, my bonny man—speak him fair, Hobbie; the like o' him will no bear thrawing. They converse sae muckle wi' thae fractious ghaists and evil spirits, that it clean spoils their temper."
"Let me alane to guide him," answered Hobbie; "there's that in my breast
