o’ them a’ is my cousin ten times removed, and day or night I wad hae served them wi’ my best blood; and now, I think they show mair regard to the common thief of Westburnflat than to their ain kinsman.  But I should see the lights now in Heugh-foot—­Wae’s me!” he continued, recollecting himself, “there will neither coal nor candle-light shine in the Heugh-foot ony mair!  An it werena for my mother and sisters, and poor Grace, I could find in my heart to put spurs to the beast, and loup ower the scaur into the water to make an end o’t a’.”—­In this disconsolate mood he turned his horse’s bridle towards the cottage in which his family had found refuge.

As he approached the door, he heard whispering and tittering amongst his sisters.  “The deevil’s in the women,” said poor Hobbie; “they would nicker, and laugh, and giggle, if their best friend was lying a corp—­and yet I am glad they can keep up their hearts sae weel, poor silly things; but the dirdum fa’s on me, to be sure, and no on them.”

While he thus meditated, he was engaged in fastening up his horse in a shed.  “Thou maun do without horse-sheet and surcingle now, lad,” he said, addressing the animal; “you and me hae had a downcome alike; we had better hae fa’en i, the deepest pool o’ Tarras.”

He was interrupted by the youngest of his sisters, who came running out, and, speaking in a constrained voice, as if to stifle some emotion, called out to him, “What are ye doing there, Hobbie, fiddling about the naig, and there’s ane frae Cumberland been waiting here for ye this hour and mair?  Haste ye in, man; I’ll take off the saddle.”

“Ane frae Cumberland!” exclaimed Elliot; and putting the bridle of his horse into the hand of his sister, he rushed into the cottage.  “Where is he? where is he!” he exclaimed, glancing eagerly around, and seeing only females; “Did he bring news of Grace?”

“He doughtna bide an instant langer,” said the elder sister, still with a suppressed laugh.

“Hout fie, bairns!” said the old lady, with something of a good-humoured reproof, “ye shouldna vex your billy Hobbie that way.—­Look round, my bairn, and see if there isna ane here mair than ye left this morning.”

Hobbie looked eagerly round.  “There’s you, and the three titties.”

“There’s four of us now, Hobbie, lad,” said the youngest, who at this moment entered.

In an instant Hobbie had in his arms Grace Armstrong, who, with one of his sister’s plaids around her, had passed unnoticed at his first entrance.  “How dared you do this?” said Hobbie.

“It wasna my fault,” said Grace, endeavouring to cover her face with her hands to hide at once her blushes, and escape the storm of hearty kisses with which her bridegroom punished her simple stratagem,—­“It wasna my fault, Hobbie; ye should kiss Jeanie and the rest o’ them, for they hae the wyte o’t.”

“And so I will,” said Hobbie, and embraced and kissed his sisters and grandmother a hundred times, while the whole party half-laughed, half-cried, in the extremity of their joy.  “I am the happiest man,” said Hobbie, throwing himself down on a seat, almost exhausted,—­“I am the happiest man in the world!”