Canobie Dick and Thomas of Ercildoun

Now it chanced many years since that there lived on the Borders a jolly
rattling horse-cowper, who was remarkable for a reckless and fearless
temper, which made him much admired and a little dreaded amongst his
neighbours. One moonlight night, as he rode over Bowden Moor, on the
west side of the Eildon Hills, the scene of Thomas the Rhymer's
prophecies, and often mentioned in his history, having a brace of horses
along with him, which he had not been able to dispose of, he met a man of
venerable appearance and singularly antique dress, who, to his great
surprise, asked the price of his horses, and began to chaffer with him on
the subject. To Canobie Dick, for so shall we call our Border dealer, a
chap was a chap, and he would have sold a horse to the devil himself,
without minding his cloven hoof, and would have probably cheated Old Nick
into the bargain. The stranger paid the price they agreed on, and all
that puzzled Dick in the transaction was, that the gold which he received
was in unicorns, bonnet-pieces, and other ancient coins, which would have
been invaluable to collectors, but were rather troublesome in modern
currency. It was gold, however, and therefore Dick contrived to get
better value for the coin than he perhaps gave to his customer. By the
command of so good a merchant, he brought horses to the same spot more
than once; the purchaser only stipulating that he should always come by
night and alone. I do not know whether it was from mere curiosity, or
whether some hope of gain mixed with it, but after Dick had sold several
horses in this way, he began to complain that dry bargains were unlucky,
and to hint, that since his chap must live in the neighbourhood, he

ought, in the courtesy of dealing, to treat him to half a mutchkin.

"You may see my dwelling if you will," said the stranger; "but if you
lose courage at what you see there, you will rue it all your life."

Dickon, however, laughed the warning to scorn, and having alighted to
secure his horse, he followed the stranger up a narrow footpath, which
led them up the hills to the singular eminence stuck betwixt the most
southern and the centre peaks, and called, from its resemblance to such
an animal in its form, the Lucken Hare. At the foot of this eminence,
which is almost as famous for witch-meetings as the neighbouring windmill
of Kippilaw, Dick was somewhat startled to observe that his conductor
entered the hillside by a passage or cavern, of which he himself, though
well acquainted with the spot, had never seen nor heard.

"You may still return," said his guide, looking ominously back upon him;
but Dick scorned to show the white feather, and on they went. They
entered a very long range of stables; in