Hark! heard ye the Kelpy reply, as we pass'd,—
'God's blessing on the warder, he lock'd the bridge fast!
All that come to my cove are sunk.
Priest or layman, lover or monk.'
How long the damsel might have continued to sing, or where the terrified monk's journey might have ended, is uncertain. As she sang the last stanza, they arrived at, or rather in a broad tranquil sheet of water, caused by a strong wear or damhead, running across the river, which dashed in a broad cataract over the barrier. The mule, whether from choice, or influenced by the suction of the current, made towards the cut intended to supply the convent mills, and entered it half swimming, half wading, and pitching the unlucky monk to and fro in the saddle at a fearful rate.
As his person flew hither and thither, his garment became loose, and in an effort to retain it, his hand lighted on the volume of the Lady of Avenel which was in his bosom. No sooner had he grasped it, than his companion pitched him out of the saddle into the stream, where, still keeping her hand on his collar, she gave him two or three good souses in the watery fluid, so as to ensure that every other part of him had its share of wetting, and then quitted her hold when he was so near the side that by a slight effort (of a great one he was incapable) he might scramble on shore. This accordingly he accomplished, and turning his eyes to see what had become of his extraordinary companion. she was nowhere to be seen; but still he heard, as if from the surface of the river, and mixing with the noise of the water breaking over the damhead, a fragment of her wild song, which seemed to run thus:—
Landed—landed! the black book hath won.
Else had you seen Lerwick with morning sun!
Sain ye, and save ye, and blithe mot ye be.
For seldom they land that go swimming with me.
The ecstasy of the monk's terror could be endured no longer; his head grew dizzy, and, after staggering a few steps onward and running himself against a wall, he sank down in a state of insensibility.
