'I wot weel have I, gudewife. A wild-looking den it is, wi' a whin auld wa's o' shealings yonder; I saw it when I gaed ower the ground wi' ane that wanted to take the farm.'

'It was a blythe bit ance!' said Meg, speaking to herself. 'Did ye notice if there was an auld saugh tree that's maist blawn down, but yet its roots are in the earth, and it hangs ower the bit burn? Mony a day hae I wrought my stocking and sat on my sunkie under that saugh.'

'Hout, deil's i' the wife, wi' her saughs, and her sunkies, and Ellangowans. Godsake, woman, let me away; there's saxpence t' ye to buy half a mutchkin, instead o' clavering about thae auld-warld stories.'

'Thanks to ye, gudeman; and now ye hae answered a' my questions, and never speired wherefore I asked them, I'll gie you a bit canny advice, and ye maunna speir what for neither. Tib Mumps will be out wi' the stirrup-dram in a gliffing. She'll ask ye whether ye gang ower Willie's Brae or through Conscowthart Moss; tell her ony ane ye like, but be sure (speaking low and emphatically) to tak the ane ye dinna tell her.' The farmer laughed and promised, and the gipsy retreated.

'Will you take her advice?' said Brown, who had been an attentive listener to this conversation.

'That will I no, the randy quean! Na, I had far rather Tib Mumps kenn'd which way I was gaun than her, though Tib's no muckle to lippen to neither, and I would advise ye on no account to stay in the house a' night.'

In a moment after Tib, the landlady, appeared with her stirrup- cup, which was taken off. She then, as Meg had predicted, inquired whether he went the hill or the moss road. He answered, the latter; and, having bid Brown good-bye, and again told him, 'he depended on seeing him at Charlie's Hope, the morn at latest,' he rode off at a round pace.

CHAPTER XXIII

Gallows and knock are too powerful on the highway--Winter's Tale.