The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

THE HEARIT OF MID-LOTHIAN. 487
"Thou art an honest lad, Frank," answered the old woman, but e'en too
good for thy trade; thy tender heart will get thee into trouble. I will see
ye gang up Holborn Hill backward, and a' on the word of some silly loon
that could never hae rapped to ye had ye drawn your knife across his
weasand."
"You may be balked there, old one," answered the robber; "I have
known many a pretty lad cut short in his first summer upon the road,
because he was something hasty with his flats and sharps. Besides, a man
would fain live out his two years with a good conscience. So, tell me what
all this is about, and what's to be done for you that one can do decently?"
" Why, you must know, Frank-but first taste a snap of right Hollands."
She drew a flask from her pocket, and filled the fellow a large bumper,
which he pronounced to be the right thing. -" You must know, then,
Frank -wunna ye mend your hand?" again offering the flask.
"No, no,-when a woman wants mischief from you, she always begins
by filling you drunk. D-n all Dutch courage. What I do I will do
soberly- I'll last the longer for that too."
"Well, then, you must know," resumed the old woman, without any
further attempts at propitiation, "that this girl is going to London."
Here Jeanie could only distinguish the word sister.
The robber answered in a louder tone, "Fair enough that; and what the
devil is your business with it?"
"Business enough, I think. If the b- queers the noose, that silly cull
will marry her."
" And who cares if he does?" said the man.
"Who cares, ye donnard Neddie! I care; and I will strangle her with
my own hands, rather than she should come to Madge's preferment."
"Madge's preferment! Does your old blind eyes see no farther that
that? If he is as you say, d'ye think he'll ever marry a moon-calf like
Madge? Ecod, that's a good one-Marry Madge Wildfire!-Ha! ha! ha!"
" Hark ye, ye crack-rope padder, born beggar, and bred thief!" replied
the hag, " suppose he never marries the wench, is that a reason he should
marry another, and that other to hold my daughter's place, and she crazed,
and I a beggar, and all along of him? But I know that of him will hang
him -I know that of him will hang him, if he had a thousand lives- I
know that of him will hang-hang-hang him!"
She grinned as she repeated and dwelt uponi the fatal monosyllable, with
the emphasis of a vindictive fiend.
" Then why don't you hang-hang-hang him?" said Frank, repeating
her words contemptuously. " There would be more sense in that, than in
wreaking yourself here upon two wenches that have done you and your
daughter no ill."
" No ill?" answered the old woman -" and he to marry this jail-bird,
if ever she gets her foot loose 1"
" But as there is no chance of his marrying a bird of your brood, I cannot, for my soul, see what you have to do with all this?" again replied the
robber, shrugging his shoulders. "Where there is aught to be got, I'll go
as far as my neighbours, but I hate mischief for mischief's sake."
"And would you go nae length for revenge?" said the hag-" for revenge
-the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell!"
"The devil may keep it for his own eating, then," said the robber; "for
hang me if I like the sauce he dresses it with."
"Revenge!" continued the old woman; "why, it is the best reward the
devil gives us for our time here and hereafter. I have wrought hard for
it-I have suffered for it-and I have sinned for it-and I will have it,or there is neither justice in heaven or in hell!"
Levitt had by this time lighted a pipe, and was listening with great composure to the frantic and vindictive ravings of the old hag. He was too