The laird drew it to him hastily--'Is it all here, Steenie, man ?' 'Your honour will find it right,' said my gudesire.
'Here, Dougal,' said the laird, 'gie Steenie a tass of brandy downstairs, till I count the siller and write the receipt.' But they werena weel out of the room, when Sir Robert gied a yelloch that garr'd the castle rock.

Back ran Dougal--in flew the livery-men--yell on yell gied the laird, ilk ane mair awfu' than the ither.

My gudesire knew not whether to stand or flee, but he ventured back into the parlour, where a' was gaun hirdy-girdie--naebody to say 'come in,' or 'gae out.' Terribly the laird roared for cauld water to his feet, and wine to cool his throat; and Hell, hell, hell, and its flames, was ay the word in his mouth.

They brought him water, and when they plunged his swollen feet into the tub, he cried out it was burning; and folk say that it DID bubble and sparkle like a seething cauldron.

He flung the cup at Dougal's head, and said he had given him blood instead of burgundy; and, sure aneugh, the lass washed clotted blood aff the carpet; the neist day.