"
"Ay, ay," said Elliot, "that will do weel eneugh."--And then aside to
his kinsman, "Murrain on the gear! Lordsake, man! say nought about them.
Let us but get puir Grace out o' that auld hellicat's clutches."
"Will ye gie me your word, Earnscliff," said the marauder, who still
lingered at the shot-hole, "your faith and troth, with hand and glove,
that I am free to come and free to gae, with five minutes to open the
grate, and five minutes to steek it and to draw the bolts? less winna
do, for they want creishing sairly. Will ye do this?"
"You shall have full time," said Earnscliff; "I plight my faith and
troth, my hand and my glove."
"Wait there a moment, then," said Westburnflat; "or hear ye, I wad
rather ye wad fa' back a pistol-shot from the door. It's no that I
mistrust your word, Earnscliff; but it's best to be sure."
O, friend, thought Hobbie to himself, as he drew back, an I had you but
on Turner's-holm, [There is a level meadow, on the very margin of the
two kingdoms, called Turner's-holm, just where the brook called Crissop
joins the Liddel.
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