THE PIRATE. BY THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY,. «IVANHOE, ETC. AT THE ENGLISH, FRENCH, ITALIAN, GERMAN, AND SPANISH LIBRARY, N° 18, RUE VIVIENNE. 1826. THE PIRATE. CHAPTER I. The witch then raised her wither'd arm, And, while she spoke the mutter'd charm, Dark lightning fill'd her eye. MEIKLE. « THIS should be the stair," said the Udaller, blundering in the dark against some steps of irregular ascent—« This should be the stair, unless my memory greatly fail me; ay, and there she sits," he added, pausing at a halfopen door, with all her tackle about her as usual, and as busy, doubtless, as the devil in a gale of wind.>> As he made this irreverent comparison, he entered, followed by his daughters, the darkened apartment in which Norna was seated, VOL. III. I amidst a confused collection of books of various languages, parchment scrolls, tablets and stones inscribed with the straight and angular characters of the Runic alphabet, and similar articles which the vulgar connected with the exercise of the forbidden arts. There were also lying in the chamber, or hung over the rude and ill-contrived chimney, an old shirt of mail, with the head-piece, battle-axe, and lance, which had once belonged to it; and on a shelf were disposed, in great order, several of those curious stone-axes, formed of green granite, which are often found in these islands, where they are called thunderbolts by the common people, who usually preserve them as a charm of security against the effects of lightning; also a stone sacrificial knife, used perhaps for immolating human victims, and one or two of the brazen implements called Celts, the purpose of which has troubled the repose of so many antiquaries. A variety of other articles, some of which had neither name nor were capable of description, lay in confusion about the apartment; and in one corner, on a quantity of withered sea-weed, reposed what seemed, at first view, to be a large unshapely dog, but, when seen more closely, proved to be a tame seal, which it had been Norna's amusement to domesticate. This uncouth favourite bristled up in its corner, upon the arrival of so many strangers, |