"Now, gallant and rightful Laird of Dalcastle," said Mrs.
Logan, "what hast thou to say for thyself? Lay thy account to dree
the weird thou hast so well earned. Now shalt thou suffer due
penance for murdering thy brave and only brother."
"Thou liest, thou hag of the pit! I touched not my brother's life."
"I saw thee do it with these eyes that now look thee in the face;
ay, when his back was to thee, too, and while he was hotly
engaged with thy friend," said Mrs. Calvert.
"I heard thee confess it again and again this same hour," said Mrs.
Logan.
"Ay, and so did I," said her companion. "Murder will out, though
the Almighty should lend hearing to the ears of the willow, and
speech to the seven tongues of the woodriff."
"You are liars and witches!" said he, foaming with rage, "and
creatures fitted from the beginning for eternal destruction. I'll
have your bones and your blood sacrificed on your cursed altars!
O Gil-Martin! Gil-Martin! Where art thou now? Here, here is the
proper food for blessed vengeance! Hilloa!"
There was no friend, no Gil-Martin there to hear or assist him: he
was in the two women's mercy, but they used it with moderation.
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