"The better!" said Hobbie impatiently; "what is the better, Elshie? Do you not hear me tell you I am the most miserable wretch living?""And do you not hear me tell you it is so much the better! and did I not tell you this morning, when you thought yourself so happy, what an evening was coming upon you?""That ye did e'en," replied Hobbie, "and that gars me come to you for advice now; they that foresaw the trouble maun ken the cure.""I know no cure for earthly trouble," returned the Dwarf "or, if I did, why should I help others, when none hath aided me? Have I not lost wealth, that would have bought all thy barren hills a hundred times over? rank, to which thine is as that of a peasant? society, where there was an interchange of all that was amiable--of all that was intellectual? Have I not lost all this? Am I not residing here, the veriest outcast on the face of Nature, in the most hideous and most solitary of her retreats, myself more hideous than all that is around me? And why should other worms complain to me when they are trodden on, since I am myself lying crushed and writhing under the chariot-wheel?""Ye may have lost all this," answered Hobbie, in the bitterness of emotion; "land and friends, goods and gear; ye may hae lost them a',--but ye ne'er can hae sae sair a heart as mine, for ye ne'er lost nae Grace Armstrong.And now my last hopes are gane, and I shall ne'er see her mair."This he said in the tone of deepest emotion--and there followed a long pause, for the mention of his bride's name had overcome the more angry and irritable feelings of poor Hobbie.Ere he had again addressed the Solitary, the bony hand and long fingers of the latter, holding a large leathern bag, was thrust forth at the small window, and as it unclutched the burden, and let it drop with a clang upon the ground, his harsh voice again addressed Elliot.

"There--there lies a salve for every human ill; so, at least, each human wretch readily thinks.--Begone; return twice as wealthy as thou wert before yesterday, and torment me no more with questions, complaints, or thanks; they are alike odious to me.""It is a' gowd, by Heaven!" said Elliot, having glanced at the contents; and then again addressing the Hermit, "Muckle obliged for your goodwill; and I wad blithely gie you a bond for some o' the siller, or a wadset ower the lands o' Wideopen.But I dinna ken, Elshie; to be free wi' you, I dinna like to use siller unless I kend it was decently come by; and maybe it might turn into sclate-stanes, and cheat some poor man.""Ignorant idiot!" retorted the Dwarf; "the trash is as genuine poison as ever was dug out of the bowels of the earth.Take it --use it, and mayit thrive with you as it hath done with me!""But I tell you," said Elliot, "it wasna about the gear that I was consulting you,--it was a braw barn-yard, doubtless, and thirty head of finer cattle there werena on this side of the Catrail; but let the gear gang,-- if ye could but gie me speerings o' puir Grace, I would be content to be your slave for life, in onything that didna touch my salvation.O, Elshie, speak, man, speak!""Well, then," answered the Dwarf, as if worn out by his importunity, "since thou hast not enough of woes of thine own, but must needs seek to burden thyself with those of a partner, seek her whom thou hast lost in the WEST.""In the WEST?That's a wide word."

"It is the last," said the Dwarf, which I design to utter;" and he drew the shutters of his window, leaving Hobbie to make the most of the hint he had given.

The west! the west!--thought Elliot; the country is pretty quiet down that way, unless it were Jock o' the Todholes; and he's ower auld now for the like o' thae jobs.--West!--By My life, it must be Westburnflat."Elshie, just tell me one word.Am I right? Is it Westburnflat? If I am wrang, say sae.I wadna like to wyte an innocent neighbour wi' violence--No answer?--It must be the Red Reiver--I didna think he wad hae ventured on me, neither, and sae mony kin as there's o' us--I am thinking he'll hae some better backing than his Cumberland friends.--Fareweel to you, Elshie, and mony thanks--I downa be fashed wi' the siller e'en now, for I maun awa' to meet my friends at the Trysting-place-- Sae, if ye carena to open the window, ye can fetch it in after I'm awa'."Still there was no reply.

"He's deaf, or he's daft, or he's baith; but I hae nae time to stay to claver wi' him."And off rode Hobbie Elliot towards the place of rendezvous which he had named to his friends.