THE DIE. 119 



thoughts of making my own, but fate ordered it otherwise. 

 The sun set on its low white wall and thatched roof. Night, 

 with her sombre mantle, began to obscure all things ; the 

 labourers had left the fields. Pensive and melancholy, meditating 

 on the past and guessing at the future, we found a resting-place 

 in Dunse. 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE DIE. 



WHILST at the Cottage of Elmsford, the angler ought to fish 

 the Die. It abounds with large trout ; but its lower waters 

 are difficult to fish, the banks being shaded with lofty trees. In 

 a primitive village, called Longformacus, the angler may breakfast, 

 and even find a lodging, should he not be over particular. Start- 

 ing early from the village, and proceeding up the stream for 

 three or four miles, he will, provided he be diligent, secure an 

 excellent dish of trout before he returns to the Cottage. The 

 village stands in a wild, witch-looking country, dangerous to 

 travel unless by clear daylight. A road, of the loneliest and 

 wildest, leads to Fastna Bridge, another from Longformacus to 

 Greenlaw, by the base of the stormy Dirrington. A footpath 

 through the morass, difficult and dangerous to strangers, usually 

 selected by the natives, cuts off a portion of the main road. If 

 you attempt it, make for some sandy hills of no great elevation, 

 lying straight south, and midway between the road and the 

 mountain. It was at this spot that a villager, returning one 

 evening from Greenlaw, beheld the funeral procession of his 

 sister (who died a year before, and to whom on her death-bed he 

 had refused all means of support) wind along a narrow path, 

 coming, as it were, from Dirrington. He became frantic. As the 

 procession passed him it was "the gloaming" the phantoms 

 halted, looked, and shook their elfin locks at him. In terror he 

 fled no one knew where ; pursued by the fiends which an evil 



