from the huge, low ceilinged kitchen of castle montgomery, which was ablaze with light, came the gladsome sound of mirth and revelry, for

“some merry countre folks togither did convene,

to burn their nits and pou’ their stocks, and hold their hallowe’en,

for blythe that night.”

for miles around the annual invitations had been sent broadcast, and to-night the capacious kitchen was taxed to its utmost. it was, however, a singularly good-natured, if over-hilarious, gathering that had assembled to do justice to old bess’s cooking, and to test their fate through the medium of the many charms so well known to all the peasantry.

there was poosie nancy in her stiffly-starched frilled cap and her new kirtle, complacently nodding here and there to all of her acquaintances as they flocked about her. poosie nancy was a merry old soul. for years she had been the mistress of the arms inn, the public house on the high road, where souter and tam o’shanter were wont to idle away their time and, incidentally, their “siller.” standing on one foot behind her was molly dunn. molly was consciously resplendent in a new plaid frock, made by her own unskilled hands, and while it was certainly[87] not a thing of beauty, it surely was a joy forever, to the lassies, who laughingly twitted her about her handiwork. but she heeded not their good-natured jibes. she was admiringly watching daddy auld, the little old minister, who sat in the midst of an admiring group of his parishioners at the other side of the room, who evidently stood in no awe of him, judging from the bursts of laughter which greeted his frequent attempts at jocularity.

“where is tam o’shanter, souter johnny?” suddenly asked old bess, who was proudly doing the honors as mistress of ceremonies. souter was assiduously paying court to the comely poosie nancy in the opposite corner with an eye to future possibilities.

“he willna be here till late,” he replied impatiently, addressing the crowd. “i left him at the arms inn, an’ if he drinks much mair whisky, he will na’ be here at all, i’m thinkin’,” and he turned eagerly to his inamorata, who was fanning herself indifferently with a plantain leaf.

“he’ll fall into the doon some night an’ be drowned, sure as fate,” said she, carelessly dismissing the subject.

“take your partners for the reel!” shouted big malcolm macr? stentoriously, at this juncture. old donald tuned up his fiddle with gleeful alacrity.

souter ceremoniously offered poosie his arm, which she condescendingly accepted, and majestically[88] they walked to the middle of the floor. with much laughing and joking and good-natured rivalry, they were all quickly paired off, and soon the rafters rang with the happy voices of the hilarious dancers as they merrily sang to the tune that blind donald was scratching out on his old and faithful, though unmelodious, fiddle.

mary had taken no part in the merrymaking, for she felt heavy and sad at heart. from her seat in the corner, where the light was the dimmest, she had watched the door with patient anxiety, hoping against hope that robert would come, but she had waited in vain, and now the evening was nearly spent and soon they would be going home, happy and tired after their sport and entertainment, while she would steal away to her quarters over the kitchen and cry herself to sleep, as she had done for many nights past. souter johnny, who was in his element and the merriest of them all, had tried vainly to induce her to join the revelers in their sport, and many an honest laddie had sought her hand in the dance, only to be shyly refused. so gradually she was left in peace, and soon forgotten amid the excitement of their diversions. they had tried some of the famous charms, which decided the destinies of many of the lads and lassies that night, and now old bess brought forth her long-hoarded bag of nuts, which she divided among them. amid shouts of mirth and laughter, they proceeded to test the most famous of all the charms. as they rushed pell-mell to the fireplace[89] and laid each particular nut in the fire, for which they had named the lad or lassie of their choice, and stood there eagerly watching, open-mouthed, to see how they would burn, mary, with a quickly beating heart, stole unperceived close to the front row of watchers, and with a little prayer, quietly threw her pair into the fire. for a moment they burned slowly side by side, then with a hop and a jump they popped madly about, and finally at opposite sides of the fireplace they glowed redly for a time, then expired altogether. with a little, suppressed sob, unheeded in the general excitement, she hurried back to her seat, pale and trembling. it was as she had feared: the course of their love was never again to run smoothly, the charm had spoken. it had never been known to predict wrongly. why had she sought to find out her fate? she asked herself pathetically. unheeding the merry songs and dances going on around her, of which they never seemed to weary, and the unco tales and funny jokes, she sat there thinking her sweet, sad thoughts, and patiently waiting till they should depart for their homes, that she might seek the quiet of her bed, where her aching heart might find relief in the tears which nowadays were so hard to control. suddenly the laughter subsided, and mary with a start raised her head to see all eyes turned on her.

“mary, come here, lass,” called souter johnny, who was fanning himself vigorously.

“it’s your turn noo, mary,” they cried boisterously.[90] “so gie us a dance or a song,” and they all pressed around her with good-natured suggestions.

old bess took the shrinking girl by the hand, and leading her forward, with a deep courtesy announced, “hieland mary will favor us wi’ a song,” then she left mary standing in the center of the room suffering agonies of dread as she raised her frightened eyes to the group of laughing, good-natured, gaping faces about her.

“i canna’ sing, i canna’ sing, souter,” she faltered, turning to him beseechingly.

“yes, ye can, dearie, just a—a verse, there’s a girlie,” he answered encouragingly. “come and stand beside me, if that’s any inspiration to ye,” he added, smiling good-humoredly.

she ran to his side, and clutching him by the arm, tried to muster up her courage, for the good-natured audience were clamorously demanding a song. with a frightened little gasp she began to sing the first thing that came to her mind. “oh, where, and oh, where is my highland laddie gone?” she faltered out. a little titter passed through the crowd, for they knew that “rab burns was nae longer sweet on mary campbell,” as they told each other in loud whispers. at the cruel sound mary, whose lips had trembled ominously as she thought of her recreant lover, with an indignant look at the thoughtless ones, burst into a flood of tears. quickly souter led her[91] sobbing to a seat, while the others anxiously crowded round, conscience-stricken at their thoughtless levity.

“what’s happent? what’s happent? has she fainted?” they asked in helpless confusion, gazing from one to the other.

“she’s only a wee bittie tired,” answered old souter, tenderly smoothing the hair of the sorrowing lass. “let her alone an’ she’ll be all right. donald,” he called, “start your fiddle; we’re gang to hae anither dance.”

the blind old patriarch smiled serenely, and raising his fiddle to his chin began to play, and soon the mirth and fun grew fast and furious as the dancers reeled and set, and crosst and cleekit.

while old donald was playing, and the dance was well started, souter quietly led mary out in the open air, and sitting down on the doorstep, he drew her gently beside him. “noo, mary, what is the matter?” he inquired kindly. “winna ye tell old souter johnny your trouble?”

“ye ken why i am unhappy, souter johnny,” answered mary apathetically. he sighed and remained silent.

“have ye an’ robert quarreled?” he asked presently.

“no,” she answered sadly.

“weel, come tell old souter; it may ease your mind, lassie,” and he drew her plaid about her shoulders, for the night air was keen.

[92]

“well, ye ken, souter,” she faltered, a pitiful little break in her voice, “robbie an’ i were to be married after the plantin’ was o’er, and ’tis noo harvest time, but ne’er a word has he spoke of our marriage since that day. he is so changed, souter, i—i canna understand him at all,” and she leaned wearily against his shoulder like a tired child.

“that armour lass is at the bottom of it all, i ken,” thought souter angrily, drawing her close to him.

“perhaps,” continued mary sadly, “perhaps he has grown tired of his highland mary.” she plucked idly at the fringe of her plaid, a look of resignation on her sweet face.

“tired o’ ye?” repeated souter incredulously. “a man would be a most fearful fool to gie up such a bonnie, sweet lassie as ye are. noo, if i were only younger, robbie burns wouldna hae things all his own way, i tell ye,” and he nodded his head vigorously.

“i ken he has some trouble,” said mary, not heeding his jocular efforts to cheer her, “that makes him so unhappy like; if he would only let me share that trouble wi’ him, whate’er it is, how gladly i would do it.”

souter rubbed his bearded chin reflectively.

“weel, mary, ye ken robert’s a genius,” he answered soberly. “an’ ye can ne’er tell how a genius is gang to act, therefore ye must ne’er be[93] surprised, mary, at whate’er he does, for genius is but anither name for eccentricity an’—an’ perverseness,” and he sighed deeply, his kind old face wrinkled with perplexity.

“i feel, souter,” she continued, pathetically calm, “that i am slowly, but surely, drifting out o’ his life forever.” she gazed suddenly into the face bending over her solicitously.

“dinna ye know the cause, souter?” she asked beseechingly.

he brushed his hand across his eyes and slowly shook his head. she sighed patiently and turned away her head and gazed listlessly into space. for a few moments there was deep silence, broken only by the bursts of laughter which came to them at intervals from within.

“lassie, listen to me,” finally said the old man, his voice cheery and hopeful once more. “ye mustna be so down-hearted; there is a cause for everything in this world, an’ i ken robert loves ye wi’ all his heart, just the same as ever. why, ye can see the glimmer o’ love in his e’e whene’er he looks at ye.” he smiled approvingly as mary’s face brightened, then continued decidedly, “robert is well-nigh daft that he hasna heard frae lord glencairn all this time; that is why he is sae worrid an’ nervous, sae moody an’ neglectful; noo cheer thee, lassie, it’ll all come right in time,” and he patted her shoulder lovingly.

[94]

“oh, i feel sae much better, souter,” she murmured, pressing his hand gratefully. “an’ noo i’ll na borrow trouble any mair, thinkin’ robert doesna’ love me.” she smiled happily and jumped lightly to her feet.

“whist, mary, why dinna ye make sure o’ that?” whispered souter, looking around him mysteriously. she looked at him wonderingly. “’tis hallowe’en, ye ken, an’ a’ the witches an’ fairies are about this night an’ will grant any wish made. try a charm, lassie.”

“i did try one,” replied mary with a sigh. “i burned the nuts, but it didna’ come out right; that’s what made me sad.”

“ah, weel, try anither; go pull a stock.”

“oh, nay, i’m afraid to go out in the field at night,” she replied timidly, drawing back. “but i’ll go if ye’ll come wi’ me.” she held out her hand to him.

“nay, thank ye, mary,” he said grimly. “i dinna’ care to see the face o’ my future wife just yet; i fear i couldna’ stand the shock.”

“well, i darena’ go alone,” answered mary decidedly, her hand on the latch. “think of anither charm, one i can do indoors.”

“an’ do ye think the fairies will come around where ’tis light?” he cried in amazement. “och, no, ye must go to the darkest place ye can find.”[95] his little round eyes gazed into hers with solemn earnestness.

mary shivered with apprehension and peered into the darkness. “oh, souter, think o’ the witches,” she said nervously.

“they willna’ hurt ye,” he answered a little impatiently. “ye maun sow a handful of hempseed an’ harrow it o’er wi’ anything ye can draw after ye, an’ repeat o’er and o’er,” assuming a guttural monotone:

“hempseed, i sow thee; hempseed, i sow thee,

and him that is to be my true love,

come after me and draw thee.”

“and will i see him then?” whispered mary eagerly, drawing near to him.

“aye,” returned souter hoarsely. “look over your left shoulder an’ ye’ll see your future husband pullin’ hemp. noo, off wi’ ye; ye’ll find some seed in the barn.” mary tried to summon up her courage, for she was highly superstitious, like all the peasantry, and was anxious to test the potency of the charm, and finally succeeded in taking a few faltering footsteps in the direction of the barn, when suddenly the door behind them opened, and molly dunn appeared in the doorway. she held in one hand a lighted candle, while in the other she carried a broken piece of looking-glass, into which she[96] was gazing intently, her eyes fixed and staring. behind her, crowding through the doorway, followed the now noiseless revelers, who were stifling their laughter to breathlessly watch the outcome of the well-known charm, whose power molly had decided to put to a test, though believing staunchly in its potency. molly majestically walked down the steps and across to the well, where, depositing her mirror on the curbing, she took from the pocket of her skirt a round, red apple, from which she bit a goodly piece and began vigorously to chew upon it, the while holding her candle above her head and anxiously watching her reflection in the mirror.

“molly’s eatin’ the apple at the glass,” chuckled souter to mary softly. “she’s lookin’ for the face o’ her future husband. let’s hae some fun wi’ her.” he motioned to them all to keep silent, and stealing softly over to the unconscious molly, intoned in a deep sepulchral voice, “molly dunn, if ye would see your future husband, dinna’ ye dare turn your head this way.”

molly gave a shriek of terror, thereby choking herself with the piece of apple she was industriously eating, and falling on her knees, her teeth chattering in fear, she cried frantically, “the witches! the witches!”

“nay, i’m the deil himsel’,” answered souter in awe-inspiring accents. molly groaned aloud, in mortal terror, not daring to turn around. “an’ i’ve[97] come for ye, molly dunn,” slowly continued her tormentor.

“nay, nay!” cried molly, her eyes staring wildly in front of her. “i want naught to do wi’ ye; gang awa’, gang awa’!” and she wildly waved her hands behind her.

“not till ye’ve seen the face o’ the man ye’ll wed,” replied the voice. “beauteous fairy of hallowe’en, come forth,” he commanded majestically, beckoning to mary to come nearer. she did so. “speak, kind fairy.” he whispered to her what to say to the awestruck molly.

thus admonished, mary, who was once more her old light-hearted winsome self, raised her sweet voice and spoke in a high falsetto, “gaze in the looking-glass, molly dunn; eat o’ the apple, think o’ the one ye desire to see, an’ his face will appear beside yours.”

“behold, i pass the magic wand o’er your head, ye faithless woman,” added souter threateningly.

hurriedly molly complied with the injunctions, and patiently she knelt there, apple in hand, the candle light glaring full on her eager, ugly face, and the wisp of faded hair tied tightly on top of her head, which was waving wildly about, while she waited for the face to appear beside her own reflection in the glass.

“do ye see him yet?” asked mary eagerly, forgetting her r?le of “the fairy of hallowe’en,”[98] and speaking in her natural tone, while the group at the doorway drew closer to the kneeling woman in their excited curiosity.

“nay, not yet,” replied molly in an awestruck whisper.

“hold the candle higher,” admonished souter, “an’ eat quicker.” molly did so. “noo do you see your handsome lover?” he crept up slyly behind molly, and bending over her shoulder, peered into the glass, where he beheld the shadowy reflection of his own face looming up beside that of the wondering molly. with a gasp of pleasure not unmixed with fear, she dropped the glass, and turning quickly grabbed the surprised souter and held him close. as she raised her candle to see whom the fairies had sent to her, she recognized her tormentor, and with a shriek of rage, she clouted the laughing souter over the head with her candlestick, amid peals of laughter from the delighted spectators, until he called for mercy.

“dinna i suit ye, molly?” he asked in an injured tone, nursing his sorely punished head.

“ye skelpie limmer’s face, ye, how dare ye try sich sportin’ wi’ me?” she cried angrily.

“the glass canna’ lie,” called out old bess with a shake of her frilled cap.

“an’ ye seen souter’s face there, molly,” laughed poosie nancy loudly. “there’s no gainsaying that.”

[99]

“i want a braw mon, a handsome mon,” whimpered molly. “ye’re no a mon at all, ye wee skelpie limmer.” the burst of laughter which greeted this sally was very disconcerting to souter, whose height, five feet two inches, was distinctly a sore subject.

“try anither charm, molly,” said mary, feeling sorry for the poor innocent.

“aye, i will,” replied molly eagerly, drying her tears with the back of her hand.

“then come alang,” said souter, ready to make amends. “come an’ pull a stock. gie me your hand.” she did so eagerly. “noo shut your eyes tight; that’s it; come along noo.” but molly braced herself and refused to move.

“i’m afeered o’ the dark an’ the witches,” she faltered, her teeth chattering, her eyes so tightly closed that her face was drawn into a mass of deep wrinkles.

they all crowded round the couple with words of praise and encouragement, and presently molly was persuaded to take a step forward and then another, and finally the two moved slowly away and were swallowed up in the darkness.

meanwhile the rest of the revelers, after a whispered consultation, hurried to the outhouse, amid smothered shrieks of laughter.

molly and souter walked slowly and timidly toward the field of corn, which looked unreal and shadowy in the pale moonlight. molly’s few remaining teeth were now chattering so loudly that souter began[100] to grow nervous. he jerked her arm impatiently.

“be a mon, molly,” he hoarsely whispered, his voice a little shaky.

“i’m afeered to,” she answered, opening her eyes and looking fearfully around. they took a few more stumbling step, then stopped.

“och, get off my foot, ye towsie tyke!” cried souter. molly hastily removed the offending member and on they went again. suddenly they stopped, rooted to the spot in terror. a low, blood-curdling moan had rent the stillness. again it came, chilling the very blood in their veins by its awful weirdness.

“the witches! the witches!” gasped molly in abject fear.

turning, they beheld a sight that caused their hair to stand on end, “the marrow to congeal in their bones,” as souter afterward explained the sensation which came over him. coming toward them was a score or more of hideous apparitions with fire blazing from their eyes and their horribly grinning mouths, and groaning and moaning like lost souls. with a mortal cry of terror, the frightened couple sped on wings of fear back to the friendly light of the kitchen, the ghostly figures darting after them with diabolical bursts of laughter. as they slammed the door of the house behind them their pursuers stopped and quickly blew out their jack-o’-lanterns and then threw them to one side.

[101]

“i didna ken mortal mon could e’er run so fast,” snickered poosie nancy to the others as they noiselessly entered the kitchen in time to hear the wonderful tale of souter’s hairbreadth escape from the witches.

another hour of mirth and jollity, of dance and song soon sped around. souter and molly were still the center of an admiring group, for they had seen the witches with their own eyes, and that distinction was theirs alone that night. suddenly the old clock struck twelve, then began a merry scrambling for bonnets and plaids. having donned them, they noisily crowded around their hostesses, who were lined up against the wall, waiting ceremoniously to be thanked for their hospitality and to bid their parting guests godspeed. as the darts of homely wit and repartee flew back and forth among them, causing the lads to burst into uproarious laughter or to grin in awkward bashfulness, and the lassies to turn their heads away blushingly or to toss their curls coquettishly, the door burst in suddenly, and tam o’shanter staggered to the center of the floor, pale, wild-eyed, and disheveled.

“tam o’shanter!” they cried, gazing at him in startled amazement. souter quickly reached his old cronie’s side.

“what’s the matter, mon? hae ye seen a ghost?” he asked concernedly.

“aye, worse than that, much worse,” hoarsely[102] replied tam, wiping the sweat from off his forehead with a trembling hand.

“what’s happened?” cried old bess fearfully.

“calm yoursel’ an’ tell us, tam,” said souter soothingly. they brought him a chair, for he trembled like an aspen leaf. throwing himself into it, he gazed about him fearfully, the while struggling to regain his breath.

“well,’tis this way, souter,” he began presently in a husky whisper. “i left the arms inn about an hour ago or thereabouts an’ started for hame, for ’tis a long ride to carrick, ye ken, an’ a most uncanny ride e’en in the daylight.”

“that’s true,” affirmed poosie nancy with a nod of conviction to the others.

“weel,” continued tam impressively, “a few miles beyond the maypole road ye have to pass a dark, uncanny spot, the cairn where the hunters found the murdered bairn. ye ken the spot, souter?” turning to him for confirmation.

souter nodded his head quickly. “aye, tam, i ken it weel, for ’twas near there old mingo’s mother hanged hersel’.” old bess looked over her shoulder nervously.

“aye,” eagerly assented tam, then he continued, “weel, a weird sight awaited me there; my blood runs cold noo. suddenly i heard a sound o’ music and revelry, and maggie stopped still, frightened stiff. i looked up, and glimmering thro’ the trees[103] was auld kirk alloway all a blaze o’ light.” he paused to note the effect of his astounding statement.

they looked at each other disbelievingly. some turned angrily away, muttering to themselves. was old tam making sport of them?

“go alang, mon,” cried poosie nancy with an incredulous sniff of her pug nose. “’tis naught but an old tumbled down ruin.”

“i’m telling ye gospel truth,” replied tam earnestly. they crowded around again, ready to be convinced, though still eying him distrustfully.

“well, i was nae afraid,” continued tam bashfully, “for i was inspired by bold john barleycorn, so i rode maggie close to the wall an’ there thro’ the openin’, i saw inside, and wow! i saw an unco sight!” tam was becoming warmed up with his recital. the eager, excited faces crowding around him had restored his courage and flattered his vanity. he paused impressively, his eyes fixed and staring, gazing straight past the faces of his listeners as though he saw the unco sight again. he noted with pleasure the frightened glances they gave over their shoulders. then he proceeded slowly in a sibilant whisper, “there were warlocks and witches dancin’ hornpipes and jigs around the kirk, dressed only in their sarks. there were open coffins standin’ around like clothespresses, an’ in each coffin stood a corpse holdin’ in its cauld hand a burnin’ light. an’ by that light i saw two span-lang wee unchristened[104] bairns, white and cold upon the holy table.” tam wiped the sweat off his brow and moistened his dry lips; then he proceeded with his harrowing tale. “beside the bairns lay a bloody knife wi’ gray hairs still sticking to the heft an’——”

but with a shudder of fear, their faces blanched and drawn, they exclaimed in doubting horror, “nay!” “stop!” “out on ye, mon!” “it’s nae true!” etc. tam was not to be cut off in the midst of his tale so unceremoniously.

he rose excitedly from his seat and continued rapidly. “the dancers were twisting and turning like snakes, and there in a winnock-bunker sat auld nick himsel’, in the shape of a beast, playing the pipes. och, friends, it was an inspirin’ sight, and in my excitement i yelled out——”

“what?” cried the lads in unison.

“‘well done, cutty sark!’” shouted tam, proudly, well pleased at his own temerity.

they boisterously applauded him for his courage, but the lassies still clung to each other nervously.

“then what happened, tam?” asked souter quizzingly. he could not quite bring himself to believe tam’s improbable tale, he knew the old sinner so well.

“weel, the lights went out in an instant,” continued tam dramatically. “i had no sooner turned maggie’s head than out poured those unco witches like bees buzzin’ in anger. i didna’ stop to meet[105] them, for maggie, knowing her danger, bounded off like a terrified deer and plunged off desperately through the trees toward the brig with all these witches followin’ wi’ eldritch screeches, close to her heels till i could feel their breath on my clammy neck. oh, what an awful moment for me! but i knew if i could but reach the keystone of the auld brig i would be safe, for witches darena cross a running stream, ye ken. mag did her speedy utmost, but old nannie pursued close behind and flew at me with tooth and nail, but she didna’ know my maggie’s mettle,” tam laughed gleefully, “for with one grand leap she reached the brig and saved her master’s life, just as that carline nannie caught her by the rump, an’ my poor maggie left behind her old gray tail.”

as he finished his recital he gazed around him triumphantly. there was an audible sigh of relief from all.

“that’s a burning shame,” said old bess sympathetically, alluding to the loss of maggie’s tail.

“what a wonderful experience ye had, tam,” cried poosie nancy admiringly. they all congratulated him on his narrow escape and pressed food and drink on him, showered him with words of praise, and in short made him out a daring hero, much to souter’s disgust. he sat apart from the rest in dignified silence, his heart wounded and sore, for was not his late ghostly exploit completely ignored and forgotten?[106] “le roi est mort, vive le roi,” he might have said to himself.

“listen,” cried tam, jumping to his feet, his face tense with eagerness. faintly the patter, patter of a horse’s hoofs was heard drawing nearer and nearer.

“’tis only someone comin’ alang the highway,” said souter carelessly.

“’tis my maggie,” cried tam almost tearfully. “she’s comin’ back for her master,” and with a bound he reached the open doorway. a few steps took him to the stone wall along the other side of which ran the king’s highway. “she’s comin’, she’s comin’, my faithful maggie is comin’,” he cried joyfully.

“she must be an unco sight wi’out a tail, tam,” sneered souter. a roar of laughter greeted this sarcastic retort.

“dinna’ ye dare laugh,” cried tam, turning on them furiously. the hoofbeats stopped suddenly. in the misty moonlight they caught a glimpse of a huge white creature, looking very spectral and ghost-like, impatiently tossing its head from side to side as if in search of something or someone. with a glad cry tam vaulted the fence, old as he was, and dashed down the road, calling lovingly, “i’m comin’, maggie, i’m comin’ to ye.” a whinny of delight, a snort of pleasure, greeted him as he reached his old mare’s side. then like a phantom, the old[107] gray mare and her rider sped swiftly past them on into the night and away toward carrick.

silently they watched them, while the hoofbeats grew fainter and fainter and then were lost to sound. such was tam o’shanter’s tale, the fame of which soon spread throughout all ayrshire.