prophecy or anither. So she disna aye gang the straight road to the well.—But deil o' sic a story as yours, wi' glamour and dead folk and losing ane's gate, I ever heard out of the tale-books!—But whisht, I hear the keeper coming."—
Mac-Guffog accordingly interrupted their discourse by the harsh harmony of the bolts and bars, and showed his bloated visage at the opening door. "Come, Mr. Dinmont, we have put off locking up for an hour to oblige ye; ye must go to your quarters."
"Quarters, man? I intend to sleep here the night. There's a spare bed in the captain's room."
"It's impossible!" answered the keeper.
"But I say it is possible, and that I winna stir—and there's a dram to you."
Mac-Guifog drank off the spirits, and resumed his objection. "But it's against rule, sir; you have committed nae malefaction."
