n' my share o' the sicht! An' jist as I opened my door, wha
should I hear but the maister cryin' at the heid o' the stair,--'What,
i' the name o' a' that's holy,' says he, 'is the meanin' o' this?' An'
I ran til him, oot o' the passage, an' through the swing-door, into the
great corridor; an' says I,--''Deed, sir, I was won'erin'! an' wi' yer
leave, sir, I'll gang an' see,' I said, gaitherin' my shawl aboot me as
weel as I could to hide what was 'aneth it, or raither what wasna
'aneth it, for I hadna that mickle on. But says he, 'No, no, you must
not go; who knows what it may be? I'll go myself. They may be robbers,
and the men fighting them. You stop where you are.' Sayin' that, he was
half-ways doon the stair. I stood whaur I was, lookin' doon an'
hearkenin', an' the noise still goin' on. But he could but hae won the
len'th o' the hall, whan it stoppit a' at ance an' a'thegither. Ye may
think what a din it maun hae been, whan I tell ye the quaiet that cam
upo' the heels o' 't jist seemed to sting my twa lugs. The same moment
I h'ard the maister cryin' til me to come doon. I ran, an' whan I
reached the servan's ha', whaur he stood jist inside the door, I stood
aside him an' glowered. For, wad ye believe me! the place was as dacent
an' still as ony kirkyard i' the munelicht! There wasna a thing oot o'
it's place, nor an air o' dist, nor the sma'est disorder to be seen! A'
the things luikit as gien they had sattlet themsel's to sleep as usual,
an' had sleepit till we cam an' waukit them. The maister glowert at me,
an' I glowert at the maister. But a' he said was,--'A false alarm, ye
see, Rose!' What he thoucht I canna tell, but withoot anither word we
turnt, an' gaed up the stair again thegither.

"At the tap o' the stair, the lang corridor ran awa' intil the dark
afore 's, for the can'le the maister carried flangna licht half to the
en' o' 't; an' frae oot o' the mirk on a suddent cam to meet 's a
rampaugin' an' a rattlin' like o' a score o' nowt rinnin' awa' wi'
their iron tethers aboot their necks--sic a rattlin' o' iron chains as
ye never h'ard! an' a groanin' an' a gruntin' jist fearsome. Again we
stood an' luikit at ane anither; an' my word! but the maister's face
was eneuch to fricht a body o' 'tsel', lat alane the thing we h'ard an'
saw naething til accoont for! 'Gang awa' back to yer bed, Rose,' he
said; 'this'll never do!' 'An' hoo are ye to help it, sir?' said I.
'That I cannot tell,' answered he; but I wouldn'