Brown Dwarf, that o'er the moorland strays,
Thy name to Keeldar tell!
"The Brown Man of the Moor, that stays
Beneath the heather-bell."--JOHN LEYDEN
The object which alarmed the young farmer in the middle of his valorous
protestations, startled for a moment even his less prejudiced companion.
The moon, which had arisen during their conversation, was, in the phrase
of that country, wading or struggling with clouds, and shed only a
doubtful and occasional light. By one of her beams, which streamed upon
the great granite column to which they now approached, they discovered
a form, apparently human, but of a size much less than ordinary, which
moved slowly among the large grey stones, not like a person intending
to journey onward, but with the slow, irregular, flitting movement of a
being who hovers around some spot of melancholy recollection, uttering
also, from time to time, a sort of indistinct muttering sound. This so
much resembled his idea of the motions of an apparition, that Hobbie
Elliot, making a dead pause, while his hair erected itself upon his
scalp, whispered to his companion, "It's Auld Ailie hersell! Shall I gie
her a shot, in the name of God?"
"For Heaven's sake, no," said his companion, holding down the weapon
which he was about to raise to the aim--"for Heaven's sake, no; it's
some poor distracted creature.
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