they took in adjusting the stone. He pointed to another--they raised it
also--to a third, to a fourth--they continued to humour him, though with
some trouble, for he assigned them, as if intentionally, the heaviest
fragments which lay near.

"And now, friend," said Elliot, as the unreasonable Dwarf indicated
another stone larger than any they had moved, "Earnscliff may do as he
likes; but be ye man or be ye waur, deil be in my fingers if I break
my back wi' heaving thae stanes ony langer like a barrow-man, without
getting sae muckle as thanks for my pains."

"Thanks!" exclaimed the Dwarf, with a motion expressive of the utmost
contempt--"There--take them, and fatten upon them! Take them, and may
they thrive with you as they have done with me--as they have done with
every mortal worm that ever heard the word spoken by his fellow reptile!
Hence--either labour or begone!"

"This is a fine reward we have, Earnscliff, for building a tabernacle
for the devil, and prejudicing our ain souls into the bargain, for what
we ken."

"Our presence," answered Earnscliff, "seems only to irritate his frenzy;
we had better leave him, and send some one to provide him with food and
necessaries."

They did so. The servant dispatched for this purpose found the Dwarf
still labouring at his wall, but could not extract a word from him.
The lad, infected with the superstitions of the country, did not long
persist in an attempt to intrude questions or advice on so singular a
figure, but having placed the articles which he had brought for his use