CHAPTER X.
I left my ladye's bower last night-- It was clad in wreaths of snaw,-- I'll seek it when the sun is bright, And sweet the roses blaw .-- OLD BALLAD.
Incensed at what he deemed the coldness of his friends, in a cause which interested him so nearly, Hobbie had shaken himself free of their company, and was now on his solitary road homeward.

"The fiend founder thee!" said he, as he spurred impatiently his over-fatigued and stumbling horse; "thou art like a' the rest o' them.

Hae I not bred thee, and fed thee, and dressed thee wi' mine ain hand, and wouldst thou snapper now and break my neck at my utmost need?
But thou'rt e'en like the lave--the farthest off o' them a' is my cousin ten times removed, and day or night I wad hae served them wi' my best blood; and now, I think they show mair regard to the common thief of Westburnflat than to their ain kinsman.

But I should see the lights now in Heugh-foot--Wae's me!" he continued, recollecting himself, "there will neither coal nor candle-light shine in the Heugh-foot ony mair! An it werena for my mother and sisters, and poor Grace, I could find in my heart to put spurs to the beast, and loup ower the scaur into the water to make an end o't a'."-- In this disconsolate mood he turned his horse's bridle towards the cottage in which his family had found refuge.
As he approached the door, he heard whispering and tittering amongst his sisters.

"The deevil's in the women," said poor Hobbie; "they would nicker, and laugh, and giggle, if their best friend was lying a corp--and yet I am glad they can keep up their hearts sae weel, poor silly things; but the dirdum fa's on me, to be sure, and no on them." While he thus meditated, he was engaged in fastening up his horse in a shed.