“Say what thou wilt—­do what thou wilt,” answered the Dwarf from his cabin, “but begone, and leave me at peace.”

“Weel, weel,” replied Elliot, “since ye are willing to hear me, I’se make my tale short.  Since ye are sae kind as to say ye are content to lend me as muckle siller as will stock and plenish the Heugh-foot, I am content, on my part, to accept the courtesy wi’ mony kind thanks; and troth, I think it will be as safe in my hands as yours, if ye leave it flung about in that gate for the first loon body to lift, forbye the risk o’ bad neighbours that can win through steekit doors and lockfast places, as I can tell to my cost.  I say, since ye hae sae muckle consideration for me, I’se be blithe to accept your kindness; and my mother and me (she’s a life-renter, and I am fiar, o’ the lands o’ Wideopen) would grant you a wadset, or an heritable bond, for the siller, and to pay the annual rent half-yearly; and Saunders Wyliecoat to draw the bond, and you to be at nae charge wi’ the writings.”

“Cut short thy jargon, and begone,” said the Dwarf; “thy loquacious bull-headed honesty makes thee a more intolerable plague than the light-fingered courtier who would take a man’s all without troubling him with either thanks, explanation, or apology.  Hence, I say! thou art one of those tame slaves whose word is as good as their bond.  Keep the money, principal and interest, until I demand it of thee.”

“But,” continued the pertinacious Borderer, “we are a’ life-like and death-like, Elshie, and there really should be some black and white on this transaction.  Sae just make me a minute, or missive, in ony form ye like, and I’se write it fair ower, and subscribe it before famous witnesses.  Only, Elshie, I wad wuss ye to pit naething in’t that may be prejudicial to my salvation; for I’ll hae the minister to read it ower, and it wad only be exposing yoursell to nae purpose.  And now I’m ganging awa’, for ye’ll be wearied o’ my cracks, and I am wearied wi’ cracking without an answer—­and I’se bring ye a bit o’ bride’s-cake ane o’ thae days, and maybe bring Grace to see you.  Ye wad like to see Grace, man, for as dour as ye are—­Eh, Lord I I wish he may be weel, that was a sair grane! or, maybe, he thought I was speaking of heavenly grace, and no of Grace Armstrong.  Poor man, I am very doubtfu’ o’ his condition; but I am sure he is as kind to me as if I were his son, and a queer-looking father I wad hae had, if that had been e’en sae.”

Hobbie now relieved his benefactor of his presence, and rode blithely home to display his treasure, and consult upon the means of repairing the damage which his fortune had sustained through the aggression of the Red Reiver of Westburnflat.

CHAPTER XI.

     Three ruffians seized me yester morn,
     Alas! a maiden most forlorn;
     They choked my cries with wicked might,
     And bound me on a palfrey white: 
     As sure as Heaven shall pity me,
     I cannot tell what men they be.—­CHRISTABELLE.