The Broad Highway

Now the light at the window grew stronger and stronger, and, all

at once, a feeble shaft of moonlight crept across the floor. I

was watching this most welcome beam when it was again obscured by

a something, indefinable at first, but which I gradually made out

to be very like a human head peering in at me; but, if this was

so, it seemed a head hideously misshapen--and there, sure enough,

rising from the brow, was a long, pointed horn.

As I lay motionless, staring at this thing, my hand, by some most

fortunate chance, encountered the pistol in my pocket; and, from

the very depths of my soul, I poured benedictions upon the honest

head of Simon the Innkeeper, for its very contact seemed to

restore my benumbed faculties. With a single bound I was upon my

feet, and had the weapon levelled at the window.

"Speak!" said I, "speak, or I'll shoot." There was a moment of

tingling suspense, and then: "Oh, man, dinna do that!" said a voice.

"Then come in and show yourself!"

Herewith the head incontinently disappeared, there was the sound

of a heavy step, and a tall figure loomed in the doorway.

"Wait!" said I, as, fumbling about, I presently found tinder-box

and candle, having lighted which I turned and beheld a man--an

exceedingly tall man--clad in the full habit of a Scottish

Highlander. By his side hung a long, straight, basket-hilted

sword, beneath one arm he carried a bagpipe, while upon his head

was--not a horn--but a Scot's bonnet with a long eagle's feather.

"Oh, man," said he, eyeing me with a somewhat wry smile, "I'm

juist thinkin' ye're no' afeared o' bogles, whateffer!"