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!"