exclamations of vengeance against them.

More than fifteen years had passed, and though the poignancy of their
grief had abated, yet their sadness was not removed, for they had been
able to hear nothing that could throw light upon the fate of their
children. About this period, sheep were again missed from the flocks,
and, in one night, the hen-roosts were emptied. There needed no other
proof that a Faa gang was again in the neighbourhood. Now,
Northumberland at that period was still thickly covered with wood, and
abounded with places where thieves might conceal themselves in security.
Partly from a desire of vengeance, and partly from the hope of being
able to extort from some of the tribe information respecting his
children, Clennel armed his servants, and taking his hounds with him,
set out in quest of the plunderers.

For two days their search was unsuccessful, but on the third the dogs
raised their savage cry, and rushed into a thicket in a deep glen
amongst the mountains. Clennel and his followers hurried forward, and in
a few minutes perceived the fires of the Faa encampment. The hounds had
already alarmed the vagrant colony, they had sprung upon many of them
and torn their flesh with their tusks; but the Faas defended themselves
against them with their poniards, and, before Clennel's approach, more
than half his hounds lay dead upon the ground, and his enemies fled.
Yet there was one poor girl amongst them, who had been attacked by a
fierce hound, and whom no one attempted to rescue, as she strove to
defend herself against it with her bare hands. Her screams for
assistance rose louder and more loud; and as Clennel and his followers
drew near, and her companions fled, they turned round, and, with a
fiendish laugh, cried--

"Rue it now!"

Maddened more keenly by the words, he was following on in pursuit,
without rescuing the screaming girl from the teeth of the hound, or
seeming to perceive her, when a woman, suddenly turning round from
amongst the flying gypsies, exclaimed--

"For your sake!--for Heaven's sake! Laird Clennel! save my bairn!"

He turned hastily aside, and, seizing the hound by the throat, tore it
from the lacerated girl, who sank, bleeding, terrified, and exhausted,
upon the ground. Her features were beautiful, and her yellow hair
contrasted ill with the tawny hue of her countenance and the snowy
whiteness of her bosom, which in the struggle had been revealed. The
elder gipsy woman approache