"That's the Reiver's mother," said one of the Elliots; "she's ten times
waur than himsell, and is wyted for muckle of the ill he does about the
country."
"Wha are ye? what d'ye want here?" were the queries of the respectable
progenitor.
"We are seeking William Graeme of Westburnflat," said Earnscliff.
"He's no at hame," returned the old dame.
"When did he leave home?" pursued Earnscliff.
"I canna tell," said the portress.
"When will he return?" said Hobbie Elliot.
"I dinna ken naething about it," replied the inexorable guardian of the
keep.
"Is there anybody within the tower with you?" again demanded Earnscliff.
"Naebody but mysell and baudrons," said the old woman.
"Then open the gate and admit us," said Earnscliff; "I am a justice of
peace, and in search of the evidence of a felony."
"Deil be in their fingers that draws a bolt for ye," retorted the
portress; "for mine shall never do it. Thinkna ye shame o' yoursells,
to come here siccan a band o' ye, wi' your swords, and spears, and
steel-caps, to frighten a lone widow woman?"
"Our information," said Earnscliff; "is positive; we are seeking goods
which have been forcibly carried off, to a great amount.
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