Oh! how I looked at him, as he stood for a gliff, like a magpie hearkening with his lug cocked up, or rather like a terrier watching a rotten.

"They're coming! they're coming!" he cried out; "cock the piece, ye sumph;" while the red hair rose up from his pow like feathers; "they're coming, I hear them tramping on the gravel!" Out he stretched his arms against the wall, and brizzed his back against the door like mad; as if he had been Samson pushing over the pillars in the house of Dagon.

"For the Lord's sake, prime the gun," he cried out, "or our throats will be cut frae lug to lug before we can cry Jack Robison! See that there's priming in the pan." I did the best I could; but my whole strength could hardly lift up the piece, which waggled to and fro like a cock's tail on a rainy day; my knees knocked against one another, and though I was resigned to die--I trust I was resigned to die--'od, but it was a frightful thing to be out of one's bed, and to be murdered in an old session-house, at the dead hour of night, by unearthly resurrection men, or rather let me call them deevils incarnate, wrapt up in dreadnoughts, with blacked faces, pistols, big sticks, and other deadly weapons.
A snuff-snuffing was heard; and, through below the door, I saw a pair of glancing black een.

'Od, but my heart nearly louped off the bit--a snouff, and a gur-gurring, and over all the plain tramp of a man's heavy tackets and cuddy-heels among the gravel.

Then came a great slap like thunder on the wall; and the laddie, quitting his grip, fell down, crying, "Fire, fire!--murder! holy murder!" "Wha's there ?" growled a deep rough voice; "open, I'm a freend." I tried to speak, but could not; something like a halfpenny roll was sticking in my throat, so I tried to cough it up, but it would not come.
"Gie the pass-word then," said the laddie, staring as if his eyes would loup out; "gie the pass-word!" First came a loud whistle, and then "Copmahagen," answered the voice.