The hamlet looked poor and miserable, being composed of about a score of clay-walled and thatched cottages, which, on the occasion of an English inroad, would be unroofed and left empty, to let the foes work what ravage they might; but there being little or nothing to burn, the huts could be restored when the foray was over. The burn was bridged here and there by old planks, and stepping-stones were also seen in the water at different places. A troop of half-clad children romped about the burn-side; and some old men sate at doors, in the evening light, repairing rude implements of husbandry. When the two travellers were perceived by the youngsters, they eyed them attentively, and then, with a shrill outburst of delight, came running forward, and danced about the gaberlunzie, like the very elves of whom he had been speaking. He patted the heads of the girls, and chucked the chins of the boys, saying, meanwhile, to Eustace--"The bairns a' ken the gaberlunzie. But are you kent here?"
"I am a stranger to the place," answered Eustace.
Willie then addressed the merry group around him--"Enough o' daffing, bairns. Come awa' and let me get into ane o' your couthy hames; for I am sair wearied this nicht wi' lang travel."
The imps set up another shout, and proceeded to escort the twain to the village, where most of the cottagers were attracted to their doors by the clamour.
"Weel, master," said Willie, "will you condescend sae far as tae tak' pat-luck wi' me, or maun you ha'e a lodging for yoursel'?"
"One lodging will serve us both for the night," answered Eustace. "I am not proud, and I am glad of an honest companion. I neither know nor care whether the people here recognise me; but recognition would do me no harm. Meantime you can tell them, if required, that I had lost my way before meeting with you."
"Ruthven Somervil," returned Eustace, without hesitation, having previously decided on that adoption. The surname was an honourable one on the Border, and had been so since the legendary times when an early Somervil killed a serpent or dragon that kept its lair in a wild glen of Linton parish in Roxburghshire--as the old rhyme commemorates:
The wode Laird of Laristone Slew the worm of Worm's Glen, And wan all Linton parochine.