d there, sure enough in the Pie-Mag field, under the
castle wa's, not twenty steps away, I sid a grand company; silks and
satins, and men wi' velvet coats, wi' gowd-lace striped over them, and
ladies wi' necklaces that would dazzle ye, and fans as big as
griddles; and powdered footmen, like what the shirra hed behind his
coach, only these was ten times as grand."

"It was full moon last night," said the old woman.

"Sa bright 'twould blind ye to look at it," said the girl.

"Never an ill sight but the deaul finds a light," quoth the old woman.
"There's a rinnin brook thar--you were at this side, and they at that;
did they try to mak ye cross over?"

"Agoy! didn't they? Nowt but civility and kindness, though. But ye mun
let me tell it my own way. They was talkin' and laughin', and eatin',
and drinkin' out o' long glasses and goud cups, seated on the grass,
and music was playin'; and I keekin' behind a bush at all the grand
doin's; and up they gits to dance; and says a tall fella I didna see
afoore, 'Ye mun step across, and dance wi' a young lord that's faan in
luv wi' thee, and that's mysel',' and sure enow I keeked at him under
my lashes and a conny lad he is, to my teyaste, though he be dressed
in black, wi' sword and sash, velvet twice as fine as they sells in
the shop at Gouden Friars; and keekin' at me again fra the corners o'
his een. And the same fella telt me he was mad in luv wi' me, and his
fadder was there, and his sister, and they came all the way from
Catstean Castle to see me that night; and that's t' other side o'
Gouden Friars."

"Come, lass, yer no mafflin; tell me true. What was he like? Was his
feyace grimed wi' sut? a tall fella wi' wide shouthers, and lukt like
an ill-thing, wi' black clothes amaist in rags?"

"His feyace was long, but weel-faured, and darker nor a gipsy; and his
clothes were black and grand, and made o' velvet, and he said he was
the young lord himsel'; and he lukt like it."

"That will be the same fella I sid at Deadman's Grike," said Mall
Carke, with an anxious frown.

"Hoot, mudder! how cud that be?" cried the lass, with a toss of her
pretty head and a smile of scorn. But the fortune-teller made no
answer, and the girl went on with her story.

"When they began to dance," continued Laura Silver Bell, "he urged me
again, but I wudna step o'er; 'twas partly pride, coz I wasna dressed
fine enough, and partly contrairiness, or something, but gaa I wudna,
not a fut. No but I