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- Джон Бакен
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But
there
was
no
jubilation
in
Isobel
’
s
voice
.
Her
fingers
twined
confusedly
,
and
her
eyes
wandered
.
"
Do
you
know
what
befell
me
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Eh
,
sirs
,
how
suld
I
ken
?
"
"
But
what
do
you
think
?
You
find
me
in
the
small
hours
lying
senseless
at
your
door
,
with
my
face
scarred
and
my
body
bruised
.
What
do
you
think
I
had
suffered
?
"
"
I
think
ye
were
clawed
by
bogles
,
whilk
a
’
body
kens
are
gi
’
en
a
free
dispensation
on
Rood
-
Mass
E
’
en
.
"
"
Woman
,
what
is
this
talk
of
bogles
from
lips
that
have
confessed
Christ
?
I
was
assaulted
by
the
Devil
,
but
his
emissaries
were
flesh
and
blood
.
I
tell
you
it
was
women
’
s
nails
that
tore
my
face
,
and
men
’
s
hands
that
clutched
my
throat
.
I
walked
in
the
Wood
,
for
what
has
a
minister
of
God
to
fear
from
trees
and
darkness
?
And
as
I
walked
I
found
in
an
open
place
a
heathen
altar
,
and
that
altar
was
covered
with
a
linen
cloth
,
as
if
for
a
sacrament
.
I
was
afraid
-
-
I
confess
it
with
shame
-
-
but
the
Lord
used
my
fear
for
His
own
purpose
,
and
led
me
back
in
my
flight
to
that
very
altar
.
And
there
I
saw
what
may
God
in
His
mercy
forbid
that
I
should
see
again
-
-
a
dance
of
devils
to
the
Devil
’
s
piping
.
In
my
wrath
I
rushed
among
them
,
and
tore
the
mask
from
the
Devil
’
s
head
,
and
then
they
overbore
me
and
I
lost
my
senses
.
When
I
wrestled
with
them
I
wrestled
with
flesh
and
blood
-
-
perishing
men
and
women
rapt
in
a
lust
of
evil
.
"
He
stopped
,
and
Isobel
’
s
eyes
did
not
meet
his
.
"
Keep
us
a
’
!
"
she
moaned
.
"
These
men
and
women
were
,
I
firmly
believe
,
my
own
parishioners
.
"
"
It
canna
be
,
"
the
old
woman
croaked
.
"
Ye
werena
yoursel
’
,
Mr
.
David
,
sir
.
.
.
.
Ye
were
clean
fey
wi
’
the
blackness
o
’
the
Wud
and
the
mune
and
the
wanchancy
hour
.
Ye
saw
ferlies
[
marvels
]
,
but
they
werena
flesh
and
bluid
,
sir
.
.
.
.
"
