Chapter 7 - Page 2

who came up, and jumped from
his horse for the purpose, was unable to extricate the harmless animal
from the fangs of his attendant until it was expiring. The Dwarf eyed,
for a few moments, the convulsive starts of his dying favourite, until
the poor goat stretched out her limbs with the twitches and shivering
fit of the last agony. He then started into an access of frenzy, and
unsheathing a long sharp knife, or dagger, which he wore under his
coat, he was about to launch it at the dog, when Hobbie, perceiving his
purpose, interposed, and caught hold of his hand, exclaiming, "Let a be
the hound, man--let a be the hound!--Na, na, Killbuck maunna be guided
that gate, neither."

The Dwarf turned his rage on the young farmer; and, by a sudden effort,
far more powerful than Hobbie expected from such a person, freed his
wrist from his grasp, and offered the dagger at his heart. All this was
done in the twinkling of an eye, and the incensed Recluse might have
completed his vengeance by plunging the weapon in Elliot's bosom, had he
not been checked by an internal impulse which made him hurl the knife to
a distance.

"No," he exclaimed, as he thus voluntarily deprived himself of the means
of gratifying his rage; "not again--not again!"

Hobbie retreated a step or two in great surprise, discomposure, and
disdain, at having been placed in such danger by an object apparently so
contemptible.

"The deil's in the body for strength and bitterness!" were the first
words that escaped him, which he followed up with an apology for the
accident that had given rise to their disagreement. "I am no justifying
Killbuck a'thegither neither, and I am sure it is as vexing to me as to
you, Elshie, that the mischance should hae happened; but I'll send you
twa goats and twa fat gimmers, man, to make a' straight again. A wise
man like you shouldna bear malice against a poor dumb thing; ye see that
a goat's like first-cousin to a deer, sae he acted but according to his
nature after a'. Had it been a pet-lamb, there wad hae been mair to be
said. Ye suld keep sheep, Elshie, and no goats, where there's sae mony
deerhounds about--but I'll send ye baith."

"Wretch!" said the Hermit, "your cruelty has destroyed one of the only
creatures in existence that would look on me with kindness!"

"Dear Elshie," answered Hobbie, "I'm wae ye suld hae cause to say sae;
I'm sure it wasna wi' my will. And yet, it's true, I should hae minded
your goats, and coupled up the dogs. I'm sure I would rather they had
worried the primest wether in my faulds.--Come, man, forget and forgie.
I'm e'en as vexed as ye can be--But I am a bridegroom, ye see, and that