the troop, hallooing and encouraging
the animal in pursuit of its horrid instincts. As they passed the moss-hole
in which the poor grand-daughter of Walter had been suffocated, the jest,
and the oath, and the merriment were at their utmost.

"Had we but a slice of the young pup," said one, "to flesh our hound with,
he would soon scent out the old one--they are kindred blood, you know. But
what do I see?--old Bloody, is it, on the top of the cairn yonder?--and
scooping, nosing, and giving tongue most determinedly. By the holy
poker!--and that's a sanctified oath--I will on and see what's agoing
here." Thus saying, he put spurs to his horse, and, waving his sword round
his head, "Here goes for old Watty!--and may the devil burn me if I do not
unearth the fox at last!" Onwards they all advanced at the gallop; but Jack
Johnston was greatly in front, and had dashed his horse half-way up the
steep cairn, when, in an instant, horse and man rushed down, and
immediately disappeared.

"Why," said Douglas, "what has become of Jack?--has old Sooty smelt him,
and sent for him, on a short warning, to help in roasting Covenanters?--or
have the fairies, those fair dames of the green knowe and the grey cairn,
seen and admired his proportions, and made a young 'Tam Lean' of poor Jack
Johnston? Let us on and see."

And see to be sure they did; for there was Jack, lying in the last agonies
of death, under his horse, which itself was lamed and lying with feet
uppermost. The horrid hound was lapping, with a growl, the blood which
oozed from the nose and lips of the dying man, and with a dreadful curse,
the terrible being expired, just as the party came within view. He had
tumbled headlong, owing to the pressure from the horse's feet, through the
slight rafter-work beneath, and had pitched head-foremost against a stone
seat, in consequence of which his skull was fractured, and his immediate
death ensued. Douglas looked like one bewildered, he would scarcely credit
his eyes; but his companion in arms did the needful; and Jack Johnston's
body was removed, his horse shot through the brain, and the whole band
returned, drooping and crestfallen, to Drumlanrig. Throwing his sword down
on the hall table when he arrived, he was heard to say, looking wildly and
fearfully all the while, "The hand of God is in this thing, and I knew it
not." It is a curious fact, but one of which my informant had no doubt,
that this very Douglas became, after this, qui