e, recoiling, and
pointing his long pewter-headed walking cane like a javelin at the
supposed sorceress--'in the name of all that is good, bide off hands! I
will not be handled; woman, stand off, upon thine own proper peril!
Desist, I say; I am strong; lo, I will resist!' Here his speech was cut
short; for Meg, armed with supernatural strength (as the Dominie
asserted), broke in upon his guard, put by a thrust which he made at her
with his cane, and lifted him into the vault, 'as easily,' said he, 'as I
could sway a Kitchen's Atlas.'

'Sit down there,' she said, pushing the half-throttled preacher with some
violence against a broken chair--'sit down there and gather your wind and
your senses, ye black barrow-tram o' the kirk that ye are. Are ye fou or
fasting?'

'Fasting, from all but sin,' answered the Dominie, who, recovering his
voice, and finding his exorcisms only served to exasperate the
intractable sorceress, thought it best to affect complaisance and
submission, inwardly conning over, however, the wholesome conjurations
which he durst no longer utter aloud. But as the Dominie's brain was by
no means equal to carry on two trains of ideas at the same time, a word
or two of his mental exercise sometimes escaped and mingled with his
uttered speech in a manner ludicrous enough, especially as the poor man
shrunk himself together after every escape of the kind, from terror of
the effect it might produce upon the irritable feelings of the witch.

Meg in the meanwhile went to a great black cauldron that was boiling on a
fire on the floor, and, lifting the lid, an odour was diffused through
the vault which, if the vapours of a witch's cauldron could in aught be
trusted, promised better things than the hell-broth which such vessels
are usually supposed to contain. It was, in fact, the savour of a goodly
stew, composed of fowls, hares, partridges, and moor-game boiled in a
large mess with potatoes, onions, and leeks, and from the size of the
cauldron appeared to be prepared for half a dozen of people at least. 'So
ye hae eat naething a' day?' said Meg, heaving a large portion of this
mess into a brown dish and strewing it savourily with salt and pepper.
[Footnote: See Note 4.]

'Nothing,' answered the Dominie, 'scelestissima!--that is, gudewife.'

'Hae then,' said she, placing the dish before him, 'there's what will
warm your heart.'

'I do not hunger, malefica--that is to say, Mrs. Merrilies!' for he said
unto himse