formerly. "I have made things decent," she said; "I may be streekit here or night.—There will be few, few at Meg's like wake, for mony of our folk will blame what I hae done, and am to do!"
She then pointed to a table, upon which was some cold meat, arranged with more attention to neatness than could have been expected from Meg's habits. "Eat," she said; "ye'll need it this night yet."
Bertram, in complaisance, eat a morsel or two; and Dinmont, whose appetite was unabated either by wonder or apprehension, made his usual figure as a trencherman. She then offered each a single glass of spirits, which Bertram drank diluted, and his companion plain.
"Will ye taste something yoursell, Luckie?" said Dinmont.
"I will not need it," replied their mysterious hostess. "And now," said she, "ye must hae arras—ye maunna gang on dry-handed—but use them not rashly—-
