'You must kindle some fire too, for hold mich der deyvil, Ich bin
ganz gefrorne!'

'It is a cold place, to be sure,' said Glossin, gathering together
some decayed staves of barrels and pieces of wood, which had
perhaps lain in the cavern since Hatteraick was there last.

'Cold? Snow-wasser and hagel! it's perdition; I could only keep
myself alive by rambling up and down this d--d vault, and thinking
about the merry rouses we have had in it.'

The flame then began to blaze brightly, and Hatteraick hung his
bronzed visage and expanded his hard and sinewy hands over it,
with an avidity resembling that of a famished wretch to whom food
is exposed. The light showed his savage and stern features, and
the smoke, which in his agony of cold he seemed to endure almost
to suffocation, after circling round his head, rose to the dim and
rugged roof of the cave, through which it escaped by some secret
rents or clefts in the rock; the same doubtless that afforded air
to the cavern when the tide was in, at which time the aperture to
the sea was filled with water.

'And now I have brought you some breakfast,' said Glossin,
producing some cold meat and a flask of spirits. The latter
Hatteraick eagerly seized upon and applied to his mouth; and,
after a hearty draught, he exclaimed with great rapture, 'Das
schmeckt! That is good, that warms the liver!' Then broke into the
fragment of a High-Dutch song,--