"
"Is ever likely to know," said the marquis, superadding a close to
her sentence. "And why wouldn't she have the room opened?" he asked.
"Because of the ancient prophecy, my lord."
"I can't recall a single point of the story."
"I wish old Eppie were alive to tell it," said Mrs Courthope.
"Don't you know it then?"
"Yes, pretty well; but my English tongue can't tell it properly.
It doesn't sound right out of my mouth. I've heard it a good many
times too, for I had often to take a visitor to her room to hear
it, and the old woman liked nothing better than telling it. But
I couldn't help remarking that it had grown a good bit even in my
time. The story was like a tree: it got bigger every year."
"That's the way with a good many stories," said the marquis. "But
tell me the prophecy at least."
"That is the only part I can give just as she gave it. It's in
rhyme. I hardly understand it, but I'm sure of the words."
"Let us have them then, if you please."
Mrs Courthope reflected for a moment, and then repeated the following
lines:
"The lord quha wad sup on 3 thowmes o' cauld airn,
The ayr quha wad kythe a bastard and carena,
The mayd quha wad tyne her man and her bairn,
Lift the neck, and enter, and fearna."
"That's it, my lord," she said, in conclusion. "And there's one
thing to be observed," she added, "--that that door is the only
one in all the passage that has a sneck, as they call it."
"What is a sneck?" asked his lordship, who was not much of a scholar
in his country's tongue.
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