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CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 075 867 220 
 

THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart, 
 
At close of this Volume will be found a brief but 
 appreciative memoir of the Life and Work of Sir 
 Walter Scott. 
 

 
THE 
 
 ANTIQUARY 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 WITH STEEL PLATES FROM DESIGNS BY 
 
 GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, J. M. W. TURNER, 
 AND OTHER ARTISTS 
 
 LONDON AND NEW YORK 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS 
 
 187s 
 
LONDON : 
 BRADETJRY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITSFRIARS. 
 
I knew Anselmo. He was shrewd and prudent, 
 
 Wisdom and cunning had their shares of him ; 
 
 But he was shrewish as a wayward child, 
 
 And pleased again by toys which childhood please, 
 
 As — book of fables, graced with print of wood. 
 
 Or else the jingling of a rusty medal, 
 
 Or the rare melody of some old ditty, 
 
 That first was sung to please King Pepin's cradle. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The present Work completes a series of fictitious narratives, 
 intended to illustrate the manners of Scotland at three different 
 periods. Waverley embraced the age of our fathers, GUY Man- 
 NERING that of our own youth, and the ANTIQUARY refers to the 
 last ten years of the ' eighteenth century. I have, in the two last 
 narratives especially, sought my principal personages in the class 
 .of society who are the last to feel the influence of that general 
 polish which assimilates to each other the manners of different 
 nations. Among the same class I have placed some of the scenes, 
 in which I have endeavoured to illustrate the operation of the 
 higher and more violent passions ; both because the lower orders 
 are less restrained by the habit of suppressing their feelings, and 
 because I agree with my friend Wordsworth, that they seldom fail 
 to expi-ess them in the strongest and most powerful language. This 
 is, I think, peculiarly the case with the peasantry of my own 
 country, a class with whom I have long been familiar. The antique 
 force and simplicity of their language, often tinctured with the 
 Oriental eloquence of Scripture, in the mouths of those of an 
 elevated understanding, give pathos to their grief, and dignity to 
 their resentment. 
 
 I have been more solicitous to describe manners minutely, than 
 to arrange in any case an artificial and combined narrative, and 
 have but to regret that I felt myself unable to unite these two 
 requisites of a good Novel. 
 
 The knavery of the Adept in the following sheets may appear 
 forced and improbable ; but we have had very late instances of the 
 force of superstitious credulity to a much greater extent, and the 
 
6 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 reader maybe assured, that this part of the narrative is founded on 
 a fact of actual occurrence. 
 
 I have now only to express my gratitude to the public, for the 
 distinguished reception which they have given to works, that have 
 little more than some truth of colouring to recommend them, and 
 to take my respectful leave, as one who is not likely again to solicit 
 their favour. 
 
 To the above advertisement, which was prefixed to the first 
 edition of the Antiquary, it is necessary in the present edition to 
 add a few words, transferred from the Introduction to the Chro- 
 nicles of the Canongate, respecting the chsiracter of Jonathan 
 Oldbuck. 
 
 " I may here state generally, that although I have deemed 
 historical personages free subjects of delineation, I have never on 
 any occasion violated the respect due to private life. It was indeed 
 impossible that traits proper to persons, both living and dead, with 
 whom I have had intercourse in society, shbuld not have risen to 
 my pen in such works as Waverley, and those which followed it. 
 But I have always studied to generalise the portraits, so that they 
 should sUll seem, on the whole, the productions of fancy, though 
 possessing some resemblance to real individuals. Yet I must own 
 my attempts have not in this last particular been uniformly success- 
 ful. There are men whose characters are so peculiarly marked, 
 that the delineation of some leading and principal feature, inevit- 
 ably places the whole person before you in his individuality. Thus, 
 the character of Jonathan Oldbuck, in the Antiquary, was partly 
 founded on that of an old friend of my youth, to whom I am 
 indebted for introducing me to Shakspeare, and other invaluable 
 favours ; but I thought I had so completely disguised the likeness, 
 that it could not be recognised by any one now alive. I was mis- 
 taken, however, and indeed had endangered what I desired should 
 be considered as a secret ; for I afterwards learned that a highly 
 respectable gentleman, one of the few surviving friends of my 
 father, and an acute critic, had said, upon the appearance of the 
 work, that he was now convinced who was the author of it, as he 
 recognised, in the Antiquary, traces ofthecharacterof a very intimate 
 friend of my father's family." 
 
 I have only farther to request the reader not to suppose that my 
 late respected friend resembled Mr. Oldbuck, either in his pedigree, 
 or the history imputed to the ideal personage. There is not a 
 single incident in the Novel which is borrowed from his real cir- 
 cumstances, excepting the fact that he resided in an old house near 
 a flourishing seaport, and that the author chanced to witness a 
 
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. 7 
 
 scene betwixt him and the female proprietor of a stage coach, very- 
 similar to that which commences the history of the Antiquary. An 
 excellent temper, with a slight degree of subacid humour ; learning, 
 wit, and drollery, the more poignant that they were a little marked 
 by the peculiarities of an old bachelor ; a soundness of thought, 
 rendered more forcible by an occasional quaintness of expression, 
 were, the author conceives, the only qualities in which the creature 
 of his imagination resembled his benevolent and excellent old 
 friend. 
 
 The prominent part performed by the Beggar in the following 
 narrative, induces the author to prefix a few remarks on that cha- 
 racter, as it formerly existed in Scotland, though it is now scarcely 
 to be traced. 
 
 Many of the old Scottish mendicants were by no means to be 
 confounded with the utterly degraded cla.ss of beings who now 
 practise that wandering trade. Such of them as were in the habit 
 of travelling through a particular district, were usually well received 
 both in the farmer's ha', and in the kitchens of the country gentle- 
 men. Martin, author of the Religmce Divi Sancti Andres, written 
 in 1683, gives the following account of one class of this order of 
 men in the seventeenth century, in terms which would induce an 
 antiquary like Mr. Oldbuck to regret its extinction. He conceives 
 them to be descended from the ancient bards, and proceeds ; — 
 " They are called by others, and by themselves, Jockies, who go 
 about begging ; and use still to recite the Sloggorne (gathering- 
 words or war-cries) of most of the true ancient surnames of Scot- 
 land, from old experience and observation. Some of them I have 
 discoursed, and found to have reason and discretion. One of them 
 told me there were not now above twelve of them in the whole isle ; 
 but he remembered when they abounded, so as at one time he was 
 one of five that usually met at St. Andrews." 
 
 The race of Jockies (of the above description) has, I suppose, 
 been long extinct in Scotland : but the old remembered beggar, 
 even in my own time, like the Baccoch, or travelling cripple of 
 Ireland, was expected to merit his quarters by something beyond 
 an exposition of his distresses. He was often a talkative, facetious 
 feUow, prompt at repartee, and not withheld from exercising his 
 powers that way by any respect of persons, his patched cloak 
 giving him the privilege of the ancient jester. To be dugude crack, 
 that is, to possess talents for conversation, was essential to the 
 trade of a " puir body " of the more esteemed class ; and Burns, 
 who delighted in the amusement their discourse afforded, seems to 
 have looked forward with gloomy firmness to the possibilityof himself 
 becoming one day or other a member of their itinerant society. In 
 
8 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 his poetical works, it is alluded to so often, as perhaps to indicate 
 that he considered the consummation as not utterly impossible. 
 Thus, in the fine dedication of his works to Gavin Hamilton, he 
 says, — 
 
 " And when I downa yoke a naig, 
 Then, Lord be thankit, I can beg." 
 
 Again, in his Epistle to Davie, a brother Poet, he states, that in 
 their closing career — 
 
 " The last o't, the warst o't, 
 Is only just to beg." 
 
 And after having remarked, that 
 
 " To lie in kilns and barns at e'en. 
 When banes are crazed and blude is thin, 
 Is doubtless great distress ;" 
 
 the bard reckons up, with true poetical spirit, the free enjoyment ot 
 the beauties of nature, which might counterbalance the hardship 
 and uncertainty of the life even of a mendicant. In one of his prose 
 letters, to which I have lost the reference, he details this idea yet 
 more seriously, and dwells upon it, as not ill adapted to his habits 
 and powers. 
 
 As the life of a Scottish mendicant of the eighteenth century 
 seems to have been contemplated without much horror by Robert 
 Burns, the author can hardly have erred in giving to Edie Ochiltree 
 something of poetical character and personal dignity, above the 
 more abject of his miserable calling. The class had, in fact, some 
 privileges. A lodging, such as it was, was readily granted to them 
 in some of the out-houses, and the usual awmous (alms) of a hand- 
 ful of meal (called d^gowpetC) was scarce denied by the poorest 
 cottager. The mendicant disposed these, according to their different 
 quality, in various bags around his person, and thus carried about 
 with him the principal part of his sustenance, which he literally 
 received for the asking. At the houses of the gentry, his cheer 
 was mended by scraps of broken meat, and perhaps a Scottish 
 " twalpenny," or English penny, which was expended in snuff or 
 whisky. In fact, these indolent peripatetics suffered much less real 
 hardship and want of food, than the poor peasants from whom they 
 received alms. 
 
 If, in addition to his personal qualifications, the mendicant 
 chanced to be a King's Bedesman, or Blue-Gown, he belonged, in 
 virtue thereof, to the aristocracy of his order, and was esteemed a 
 person of great importance. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. g 
 
 These Bedesmen are an order of paupers to whom the Kings of 
 Scotland were in the custom of distributing a certain alms, in con- 
 formity with the ordinances of the Catholic Church, and who were 
 expected in return to pray for the royal welfare and that of the state. 
 This order is still kept up. Their number is equal to the number of 
 years which his Majesty has lived ; and one Blue-Gown additional 
 is put on the roll for every returning royal birth-day. On the same 
 auspicious era, each Bedesman receives a new cloak, or gown of 
 coarse cloth, the colour light blue, with a pewter badge, which con- 
 fers on them the general privilege of asking alms through all Scot- 
 land, all laws against sorning, masterful beggary, and every other 
 species of mendicity, being suspended in favour of this privileged 
 class. With his cloak, each receives a leathern purse, containing 
 as many shillings Scots (videlicet, pennies stei-ling) as the sovereign 
 is years old ; the zeal of their intercession for the king's long life 
 receiving, it is to be supposed, a great stimulus from their own pre- 
 sent and increasing interest in the object of their prayers. On the 
 same occasion one of the Royal Chaplains preaches a sermon to 
 the Bedesmen, who (as one of the reverend gentlemen expressed 
 himself) are the most impatient and inattentive audience in the world. 
 Something of this may arise from a feeling on the part of the 
 Bedesmen, that they are paid for their own devotions, not for 
 listening to those of others. Or, more probably, it arises from im- 
 patience, natural, though indecorous in men bearing so venerable a 
 character, to arrive at the conclusion of the ceremonial of the royal 
 birth-day, which, so far as they are concerned, ends in a, lusty 
 breakfast of bread and ale ; the whole moral and religious ex- 
 hibition terminating in the advice of Johnson's " Hermit hoar " to 
 his proselyte, 
 
 ' " Come, my lad, and drink some beer." 
 
 Of the charity bestowed on these aged Bedesmen iu- money and 
 clothing, there are many records in the Treasurer's accompts. The 
 following extract, kindly supplied by Mr. MacDonald of the Re- 
 gister House, may interest those whose taste is akin to that of 
 Jonathan Oldbuck of Monkbarns. 
 
 BLEW GOWNIS. 
 In the account of Sir Robert Melvill of Murdocarney, Trea- 
 surer-Depute of King James VI., there are the following Pay- 
 ments : — 
 
 "Junij 1590. 
 " Item, to Mr. Peter Young, Elimosinar, twentie four gownis of 
 blew clayth, to be gevin to xxiiij aujd men, according to the yeiris 
 
10 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 of his heines age, extending to viij '^ viiij elnis clayth ; price of 
 the elne xxiiij s. Inde, ij c j /z. xij s. 
 
 " Item, for sextene elnis bukrum to the saidis gownis, price of , 
 the elne x s. Inde, viij /z. 
 
 " Item, twentie four pursis, and in ilk purse twentie four schilling. 
 Inde, xxviij It. xvj j. 
 
 " Item, the price of ilk purse iiij d. Inde, viij s. 
 
 " Item, for making of the saidis gownis, viij li." 
 
 In the Account of John, Earl of Mar, Great Treasurer of Scot- 
 land, and of Sir Gideon Murray of Elibank, Treasurer-Depute, 
 the Blue Gowns also appear — thus : 
 
 " Junij 1617. 
 
 " Item, to James Murray, merchant, for fyftene scoir sex elnis 
 and ane half elne of blew claith to be gownis to fyftie ane aigeit 
 men according to the yeiris of his Majesteis age, at xl j. the* elne. 
 Inde, vj c xiij //. 
 
 " Item, to workmen for careing the blewis to James Aikman, 
 tailyeour, his hous, xiij s. iiij li. 
 
 " Item, for sex elnis and ane half of harden to the saidis gownis, 
 at vj s. viij (5?. the elne. Inde, xliij s. iiij d. 
 
 " Item, to the said workmen for careing of the gownis fra the 
 said James Aikman's hous to the palace of 'Halyrudehous, xviij j. 
 
 " Item, for making the saidis fyftie ane gownis, at xij s. the peice, 
 inde, xxx W. xij s. " 
 
 " Item, for fyftie ane pursis to the said puire men, Ij s. 
 
 " Item, to Sir Peter Young, Ij j. to be put in everie ane of the 
 saidis Ij pursis to the said poore men, j c xxx Ij j s. 
 
 " Item, to the said Sir Peter, to buy breid and drink to the said 
 puir men, vj /z. xiij j iiij d. 
 
 " Item, to the said Sir Peter, to be delt amang uther puire folk, 
 jclj. 
 
 " Item, upon the last day of Junij to Doctor Young, Deane of 
 Winchester, Elimozinar Deput to his Majestic, twenty fyve pund 
 sterling, to be gevin to the puir be the way in his Majesteis pro- 
 gress, Inde, iij c li." 
 
 I have only to add, that although the institution of King's Bedes- 
 men still subsists, they are now seldom to be seen on the streets of 
 Edinburgh, of which their peculiar dress made them rather a cha- 
 racteristic feature. 
 
 Having thus given an account of the genus and species to which 
 Edie Ochiltree appertains, the author may add, that the individual 
 
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. ii 
 
 he had in his eye was Andrew Gemmells, an old mendicant of the 
 character described, who was many years since well known, and 
 must still be remembered, in the vales of Gala, Tweed, Ettrick, 
 Yarrow, and the adjoining country. 
 
 The author has in his youth repeatedly seen and conversed with 
 Andrew, but cannot recollect whether he held the rank of Blue- 
 Gown. He was a remarkably fine old figure, very tall, and main- 
 taining a soldierlike, or military manner and address. His features 
 were intelligent, with a powerful expression of sarcasm. His mo- 
 tions were always so graceful, that he might almost have been sus- 
 pected of having studied them ; for he might, on any occasion, 
 have served as a model for an artist, so remarkably striking were 
 his ordinary attitudes. Andrew Gemmells had little of the cant of 
 his calling ; his wants were food and shelter, or a trifle of money, 
 which he always claimed, and seemed to receive as his due. He 
 sung a good song, told a good story, and could crack a severe jest 
 with all the acumen of Shakspeare's jesters, though without using, 
 like them, the cloak of insanity. It was some fear of Andrew's 
 satire, as much as a feeling of kindness or charity, which secured 
 him the general good reception which he enjoyed everywhere. In 
 fact, a jest of Andrew Gemmells, especially at the expense of aperson 
 of consequence, flew round the circle which he frequented, as surely 
 as the bon-mot of a man of established character for wit glides 
 through the fashionable world. Many of his good things are held 
 in remembrance, but are generally too local and personal to be in- 
 troduced here. 
 
 Andrew had a character peculiar to himself among his tribe, for 
 aught I ever heard. He was ready and willing to play at cards or 
 dice with any one who desired such amusement. This was more 
 in the character of the Irish itinerant gambler, called in that 
 country a carroiu, than of the Scottish beggar. But the late Re- 
 verend Doctor Robert Douglas, minister of Galashiels, assured the 
 author, that the last time he saw Andrew Gemmells, he was en- 
 gaged in a game at brag with a gentleman of fortune, distinction, 
 and birth. To preserve the due gradations of rank, the party was 
 made at, an open window of the chateau, the laird sitting on his 
 chair in the inside, the beggar on a stool in the yard, and they 
 played on the window-sill. The stake was a considerable parcel of 
 silver. The author expressing some surprise, Dr. Douglas ob- 
 served, that the laird was no doubt a humourist or original ; but 
 that many decent persons in those times would, like him, have 
 thought there was nothing extraordinary in passing an hour, either 
 in card-playing or conversation, with Andrew Gemmells. 
 
 This singular mendicant had generally, or was supposed to have, 
 
12 ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 as much money about his person, as would have been thought the 
 value of his life among modern foot-pads. On one occasion, a 
 country gentleman, generally esteemed a very narrow man, hap- 
 pening to meet Andrew, expressed great regret that he had no 
 silver in his pocket, or he would have given him sixpence : — ' I 
 can give you change for a note, laird," replied Andi'ew. 
 
 Like most who have arisen to the head of their profession, the 
 modern degradation which mendicity has undergone was often the 
 subject of Andrew's lamentations. As a trade, he said, it was 
 forty pounds a year worse since he had first practised it. On an- 
 other occasion he observed, begging was in modern times scarcely 
 the profession of a gentleman ; and that if he had twenty sons, he 
 would not easily be induced to breed one of them up in his own 
 line. When or where this laudator temporis acti closed his wan- 
 derings, the author never heard with certainty ; but most probably, 
 as Burns says, 
 
 " he died a cadger-powny's death, 
 
 At some dike side." 
 
 The author may add another picture of the same kind as Edie 
 Ochiltree and Andrew Gemmells ; considering these illustrations 
 as a sort of gallery, open to the reception of anything which may 
 elucidate former manners, or amuse the reader. 
 
 The author's contemporaries at the university of Edinburgh will 
 probably remember the thin wasted form of a venerable old Bedes- 
 man, who stood by the Potter-row port, now demolished, and, 
 without speaking a. syllable, gently inclined his head, and offered 
 his hat, but with the least possible degree of urgency, towards each 
 individual who passed. This man gained, by silence and the ex- 
 tenuated and wasted appearance of a palmer from a remote 
 country, the same tribute which was yielded to Andrew Gemmells's 
 sarcastic humour and stately deportment. He was understood to 
 be able to maintain a son a student in the theological classes of the 
 University, at the gate of which the father was a mendicant. The 
 young man was modest and inclined to learning, so that a student 
 of the same age, and whose parents were rather of the lower order, 
 moved by seeing him excluded from the society of other scholars 
 when the secret of his birth was suspected, endeavoured to console 
 him by offering him some occasional civilities. The old men- 
 dicant was grateful for this attention to his son, and one day, as 
 the friendly student passed, he stooped forward more than usual, as 
 if to intercept his passage. The scholar drew out a halfpenny, 
 which he concluded was the beggar's object, when he was surprised 
 to receive his thanks for the kindness he had shown to Jemmie, 
 
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ANTIQUARY. 13 
 
 and at the same time a cordial invitation to dine with them next 
 Saturday, " on a shoulder of mutton and potatoes," adding, " ye'll 
 put on your clean sark, as I have company." The student was 
 strongly tempted to accept this hospitable proposal, as many in 
 his place would probably have done ; but, as the motive might 
 have been capable of misrepresentation, he thought it most pru- 
 dent, considering the character and circumstances of the old man, 
 to decline the invitation. 
 
 Such are a few traits of Scottish mendicity, designed to throw 
 light on a Novel in which a character of that description plays a 
 prominent part. We conclude, that we have vindicated Edie 
 Ochiltree's right to the importance assigned him ;. and have shown, 
 that we have known one beggar take a hand at cards with a person 
 of distinction, and another give dinner parties. 
 
 I know not if it be worth while to observe, that the Antiquary 
 was not so well received on its first appearance as either of its pre- 
 decessors, though in course of time it rose to equal, and, with some 
 readers, superior popularity. 
 
 Abbotsford, 1829. 
 
 I^" [That the text be not cumbered, the notes, which are numerous and 
 valuable, will be found at the close of the text, an asterisk appearing in the 
 page to call attention to them.] — A.M. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Go call a coach, and let a coach be call'd, 
 
 And let the man who calleth be the caller ; 
 
 And in his calling let him nothing call 
 
 But Coach ! Coach ! Coach ! O for a coach, ye gods ' 
 
 Chrononhotonthologos. 
 
 It was early on a fine siimmer^s day, near the end of the 
 eighteenth century, when a young man, of genteel appearance, 
 journeying towards the north-east of Scotland, provided himself 
 with a ticket in one of those public carriages which travel between 
 Edinburgh and the Queensferry, at which place, as the name 
 implies, and as is well known to all my northern readers, there is 
 a passage-boat for crossing the Frith of Forth. The coach was 
 calculated to carry six regular passengers, besides such interlopers 
 as the coachman could pick up by the way, and intrude upon those 
 who were legally in possession. The tickets, which conferred right 
 to a seat in this vehicle of little ease, were dispensed by a sharp- 
 looking old dame, with a pair of spectacles on a very thin nose, 
 who inhabited a "laigh shop," anglici, a cellar, opening to the 
 High Street by a straight and steep stair, at the bottom of which 
 she sold tape, thread, needles, skeans of worsted, coarse linen 
 cloth, and such feminine, gear, to those who had the courage and 
 skill to descend to the profundity of her dwelling, without falling 
 headlong themselves, or throwing down any of the numerous 
 articles which, piled on each side of the descent, indicated the pro- 
 fession of the trader below. 
 
 The written hand-bill, which, pasted on a projecting board, 
 announced that the Queensferry DiUgence, or Hawes Fly, departed 
 precisely at twelve o'clock on Tuesday, the fifteenth July, 17 — , in 
 order to secure for travellers the opportunity of passing the Frith 
 with the flood-tide, lied on the present occasion like a bulletin ; for 
 although that hour was pealed from Saint Giles's steeple, and re- 
 peated by the Tron, no coach appeared upon the appointed stand. 
 It is true, only two tickets had been taken out, and possibly the 
 lady of the subterranean mansion might have an understanding 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 15 
 
 with her Automedon, that, in such cases, a Httle space was to be 
 allowed for the chance of filling up the vacant places— or the said 
 Automedon might have been attending a funeral, and be delayed 
 by the necessity of stripping his vehicle of its lugubrious trappings 
 — or he might have staid to take, a half-mutchkin extraordinary 
 with his crony the ostler — or^in short, he did not make his 
 appearance. 
 
 The young gentleman, who began to grow somewhat impatient, 
 was now joined by a companion in this petty misery of human life 
 — the person who had taken out the other place. He who is bent 
 upon a journey is usually easily to be distinguished from his fellow- 
 citizens. The boots, the great-coat, the umbrella, the little bundle 
 in his hand, the hat pulled over his resolved brows, the deter- 
 mined importance of his pace, his brief answers to the salutations 
 of lounging acquaintances, are all marks by which the experienced 
 traveller in mail-coach or diligence can distinguish, at a distance, 
 the companion of his future journey, as he pushes onward to the 
 place of rendezvous. It is then that, with worldly wisdom, the first 
 comer hastens to secure the best berth in the coach for himself, and 
 to make the most convenient arrangement for his baggage before 
 the arrival of his competitors. Our youth, who was gifted with 
 little prudence of any sort, and who was, moreover, by the absence 
 of the coach, deprived of the power of availing himself of his 
 priority of choice, amused himself, instead, by speculating upon the 
 occupation and character of the personage who wa^ now come to 
 the coach-office. ' 
 
 He was a good-looking man of the age of sixty, perhaps older, 
 but his hale complexion and firm step announced that years had 
 not impaired his strength or health. His countenance was of the 
 true Scottish cast, strongly marked, and rather harsh in features, 
 with a shrewd and penetrating eye, and a countenance in which 
 habitual gravity was enlivened by a cast of ironical humour. 
 His dress was uniform, and of a colour becoming his age and 
 gravity ; a wig, well dressed and powdered, surmounted by a 
 slouched hat, had something of a professional air. He might be a 
 clergyman, yet his appearance was more that of a man of the 
 world than usually belongs to the kirk of Scotland, and his first 
 ejaculation put the matter beyond question. 
 
 He arrived with a hurried pace, and, casting an alarmed glance 
 towards the dial-plate of the church, then looking at the place 
 where the coach should have been, exclaimed, " Deil's in it — I am 
 too late after all ! " 
 
 The young man relieved his anxiety, by telling him the coach 
 had not yet appeared. The old gentleman, apparently conscious 
 
I6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 of his own want of punctuality, did not at first feel courageous 
 enough to censure that of the coachman. He took a parcel, con- 
 taining apparently a large folio, from a little boy who followed him, 
 
 and, patting him on the head, bid him go back and tell Mr. B , 
 
 that if he had known he was to have had so much time, he would 
 have put another word or two to their bargain, — then told the boy 
 to mind his business, and he would be as thriving a lad as ever 
 dusted a duodecimo. The boy lingered, perhaps in hopes of a 
 penny to buy marbles ; but none was forthcoming. Our senior 
 Ipaned his little bundle upon one of the posts at the head of the 
 staircase, and, facing the traveller who had first arrived, waited in 
 silence for about five minutes the arrival of the expected diligence. 
 
 At length, after one or two impatient glances at the progress of 
 the minute-hand of the clock, having compared it with his ' own 
 watch, a huge and antique gold repeater, and having twitched 
 about his features to give due emphasis to one or two peevish 
 pshaws, he hailed the old lady of the cavern. 
 
 " Good woman, — what the d — ^1 is her name ? — Mrs. Macleu- 
 char!" 
 
 Mrs. Macleuchar, aware that she had a defensive part to sustain 
 in the encounter which was to follow, was in no hurry to hasten the 
 discussion by returning a ready answer. 
 
 "Mrs. Macleuchar — Good woman" (with an elevated voice) — 
 then apart, "Old doited hag, she's as deaf as a post — I say, 
 Mrs. Macleuchar!" 
 
 " I am just serving a customer. — Indeed, hinny, it will no be a 
 bodle cheaper than I tell ye." 
 
 "Woman," reiterated the traveller, "do you think we can stand 
 here all day till you have cheated that poor servant wench out of 
 her half-year's fee and bountith ? " 
 
 "Cheated!" retorted Mrs. Macleuchar, eager to take up the 
 quarrel upon a defensible ground ; " I scorn your words, sir ; yoil 
 are an uncivil person, and I desire you will not stand there to 
 slander me at my ain stairhead." 
 
 "The woman," said the senior, looking with an arch glance 
 at his destined travelling companion, "does not understand the 
 words of action. — Woman," again turning to the vault, " I arraign 
 not thy character, but I desire to know what is become of thy 
 coach.'" 
 
 " What's your wull ? " answered Mrs. Macleuchar, relapsing into 
 deafness. 
 
 " We have taken places, ma'am," said the younger stranger, " in 
 
 your diligence for Queensferry " " Which should have been 
 
 half-way on the road before now," continued the elder and more 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 17- 
 
 impatient traveller, rising in wrath as he spoke ; " and now in all 
 likelihood we shall miss the tide, and I have business of importance 
 on the other side— and your cursed coach " 
 
 "The coach ?— Gude guide us, gentlemen, is it no on the stand 
 yet?" answered the old lady, her shrill tone of expostulation 
 sinking into a kind of apologetic whine. "Is it the coach ye hae 
 been waiting for ? " 
 
 " What else could have kept us broiling in the sun by the side of 
 the gutter here, you — you faithless woman, eh ? " 
 
 Mrs. Macleuchar now ascended her trap stair (for such it might 
 be called, though constructed of stone), 'until her nose came upon 
 a level with the pavement ; then, after wiping her spectacles to 
 look for that which she well knew was not to be found, she ex- 
 claimed, with well-feigned astonishment, " Gude guide us ! — saw 
 ever onybody the like o' that ? " 
 
 " Yes, you abominable woman," vociferated the traveller, " many 
 have seen the like of it, and all will see the like of it, that have 
 anything to do with your trolloping sex ; " then, pacing with great 
 indignation before the door of the shop, still as he passed and re- 
 passed, like a vessel who gives her broadside as she comes abreast 
 of a hostile fortress, he shot down complaints, threats, and re- 
 proaches, on the embarrassed Mrs. Macleuchar. He would take a 
 post-chaise — he would call a hackney-coach — he would take four 
 horses —he must — he would be on the north side to-day — and all 
 the expenses of his journey, besides damages, direct and conse- 
 quential, arising from delay, should be accumulated on the devoted 
 head of Mrs. Macleuchar. 
 
 There was something' so comic in his pettish resentment, that 
 the younger traveller, who was in no such pressing hurry to depart, 
 could not help being amused with it, especially as it was obvious, 
 that every now and then the old gentleman, though very angry, 
 could not help laughing at his own vehemence. But when 
 Mrs. Macleuchar began also to join in the laughter, he quickly put 
 a stop to her ill-timed merriment. 
 
 ("Woman," said he, "is that advertisement thine?" showing a 
 bit of crumpled printed paper. " Does it not set forth, that, God 
 willing, as you hypocritically express it, the Hawes Fly, or Queens- 
 ferry Diligence, would set forth to-day at twelve o'clock ? and is it 
 not, thou falsest of creatures, now a quarter past twelve, and no 
 such fly or diligence to be seen ? — Dost thou know the conse- 
 quence of seducing the lieges by false reports ? — dost thou know it 
 might be brought under the statute of leasing-making ? Answer ; 
 and for once in thy long, useless, and evil life, let it be in the words 
 of truth. and sincerity,— hsist thou such a coach?— is it in rerum 
 
 B 
 
18 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 natura ? — or is this base annunciation a mere swindle on the in- 
 cautious, to beguile them of their time, their patience, and three 
 shillings of sterling money of this realm ?-^Hast thou, I say, such 
 a coach ? ay or no ? " 
 
 " O dear, yes, sir ; the neighbours ken the diligence weel, green 
 picked out wi' red — three yellow wheels and a black ane." 
 
 " Woman, thy special description will not serve — it may be only 
 a lie with a circumstance." 
 
 " O man ! man ! " said the overwhelmed Mrs. Macleuchar, 
 totally exhausted at having been so long the butt of his rhetoric, 
 " take back your three shillings, and make me quit o' ye." 
 
 " Not so fast, not so fast, woman — Will three shillings transport 
 me to Queensferry, agreeably to thy treacherous program ? — or will • 
 it requite the damage I may sustain by leaving my business un- 
 done ? or repay the expenses which I must disburse if I am obliged 
 to tarry a day at the South Ferry for lack of tide .'' — Will it hire, 
 I say, a pinnace, for which alone the regular price is five 
 shillings?" 
 
 Here his argument was cut short by a lumbering noise, which 
 proved to be the advance of the expected vehicle, pressing forward 
 with all the dispatch to' which the broken-winded jades that 
 drew it could possibly be urged. With ineffable pleasure, 
 Mrs. Macleuchar saw her tormentor deposited in the leathern 
 convenience ; but still, as it was driving off, his head thrust out 
 ■of the window reminded her, in words drowned amid the rumbling 
 of the wheels, that, if the diligence did not attain the Ferry in time 
 to save the flood-tide, she, Mrs. Macleuchar, should be held re- 
 sponsible for all the consequences that might ensue. 
 
 The coach had continued in motion for a mile or two before the 
 stranger had completely repossessed himself of his equanimity, as 
 was manifested by the doleful ejaculations, which he made from 
 time to time, on the too great probability, or even certainty, of their 
 missing the flood-tide. By degrees, however, his wrath subsided ; 
 he wiped his brows, relaxed his frown, and, undoing the parcel in 
 his hand, produced his folio, on which he gazed from time to time 
 with the knowing look of an amateur, admiring its height and 
 condition, and ascertaining, by a minute and individual inspection 
 of each leaf, that the volume was uninjured and entire from title- 
 page to colophon. His fellow-traveller took the liberty of inquiring 
 the subject of his studies. He lifted up his, eyes with something of 
 a sarcastic glance, as if he supposed the young querist would not 
 relish, or perhaps understand, his answer, and pronounced the book 
 to be Sandy Gordon's Itinerarium Septentrionale, a book illustra- 
 tive of the Roman remains in Scotland. The querist, unappalled 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 19 
 
 by this learned title, proceeded to put several questions, which in- 
 dicated that he had made good use of a good education, and 
 although not possessed of minute information on the subject of 
 Antiquities, had yet atquaintance enough with the classics to render 
 him an interested and intelligent auditor when they were enlarged 
 upon. The elder traveller, observing with pleasure the capacity of 
 his temporary companion to understand and answer him, plunged, 
 nothing loth, into a sea of discussion concerning urns, vases, 
 Votive altars, Roman camps, and the rules of castrametation. 
 
 The pleasure of this discourse had such a dulcifying tendency, 
 that, although two causes of delay occurred, each of much more 
 serious duration than that which had drawn down his wrath upon 
 the unlucky MrS. Maoleuchar, our ANTIQUARY only bestowed on 
 the delay the honour of a few episodical poohs and pshaws, which 
 rather seemed to regard the interruption of his disquisition than the 
 retardation of his journey. 
 
 The first of these stops was occasioned by the breaking of a 
 spring, which half an hbiir's labour hardly repaired; To the second, 
 the Antiquary was himself accessory, if not the principal cause of 
 it ; for, observing that one of the horses had cast a fore-foot shoe, 
 he apprized the coachman of this important deficiency; "It's Jamie 
 Martingale that furnishes the naigs on contract, and uphauds them," 
 answered Johnj " and I am not entitled to make any stop, or to 
 suflfer prejudice by the like of these accidents;" 
 
 " And when you go to — I mean to the place you deserve to go to, 
 you scoundrel — who do you think will uphold j/oa on contract ? If 
 you don't stop directly and carry the poor brute to the next smithy, 
 I'll have you punished, if there's a justice of peace in Mid-Lothian ; ',' 
 and, opening the coach door, out he jumped, while the coachman 
 obeyed his orders, muttering, that " if the gentlemen lost the tide 
 now, they could not say but it was their ain fault, since he was 
 wiUing to get on." 
 
 I like so little to analyze the complication of the causes which 
 influence actions, that I will not venture to ascertain whether our Anti- 
 quary's humanity to the poor horse was not in some degree aided 
 by his desire of showing his companion a Plot's camp, or Round- 
 about, a subject which he had been elaborately discussing, and of 
 which a specimen, " very curious and perfect indeed," happened to 
 exist about a hundred yards distant from the place where this inters 
 ruption took place. But were I compelled to decompose the motives 
 of my worthy friend (for such was the gentleman in the sober suit, 
 with powdered wig and slouched hat), I should say, that, although 
 he certainly would not in any case have suffered the coachman to 
 proceed while the horse was unfit for service, and Ukely to suffer by 
 
20 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 being urged forward, yet the man of whipcord escaped some severe 
 abuse and reproach by the agreeable mode which the traveller 
 found out to pass the interval of delay. 
 
 So much time was consumed by these interruptions of their 
 journey, that when they descended the hill above the Hawes (for so 
 the inn on the southern side of the Queensferry is denominated), 
 the experienced eye of the Antiquary at once discerned, from the 
 extent of wet sand, &nd the number of black stones and rocks, 
 covered with seaweed, which were visible along the skirts of the 
 shore, that the hour of tide was past. The young traveller expected 
 a burst of indignation; but whether, as Croaker says in "The 
 Good-natured Man," our hero had exhausted himself in fretting 
 away his misfortunes beforehand, so that he did not feel them when 
 they actually arrived, or whether he found the company in which he 
 was placed too congenial to lead him to repine at anything which 
 delayed his journey, it is certain that he submitted to his lot with 
 much resignation. 
 
 " The d — I's in the diligence and the old hag it belongs to ! — 
 Diligence, quoth I ? Thou shouldst have called it the Sloth — Fly ! 
 — quoth she ? why, it moves like a fly through a glue-pot, as the 
 Irishman says. But, however, time and tide tarry for no man ; 
 and so, my young friend, we'll have a snack here at the Hawes, 
 which is a very decent sort of a place, and I'll be very happy to 
 finish the account I was giving you of the difference between the 
 jaode of entrenching casira siaiiva and castra «j/w«, things con- 
 founded by too many of our historians. Lack-a-day, if they had 
 ta'en the pains to satisfy their own eyes, instead of following each 
 other's blind guidance ! — Well ! we shall be pretty comfortable at 
 the Hawes ; and besides, after all, we must have dined somewhere, 
 and it will be pleasanter sailing with the tide of ebb and the evening 
 breeze." 
 
 In this Christian temper of making the best of all occurrences, 
 «isur travellers alighted at the Hawes, 
 
THE AMTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAP-TER II. 
 
 Sjf, they do scandal me upon the road here. 
 A poor quotidian rack of mutton roasted 
 Dry to be grated ! and that driven down 
 With beer and butter-milk, mingled together. 
 It is against my freehold, my inheritance. 
 Wine is the word that glads the heart of man, 
 And mine's the house of wine. Sack, says my bush, 
 Be merry and drink Sherry, that's my posie. 
 
 Ben Jonson'S New Inn. 
 
 As the senior traveller descended the crazy steps of the diligence 
 at the inn, he was greeted by the fat, gouty, pursy landlord, with 
 that mixture of familiarity and respect which the Scotch innkeepers 
 of the old school used to assume towards their more valued 
 customers. 
 
 " Have a care o' us, Monkbarns ! " (distinguishing him by his 
 territorial epithet, always most agreeable to the ear of a Scottish 
 proprietor;) "is this you? I little thought to have seen your 
 honour here till the summer session was ower." 
 
 " Ye donnard auld deevil," answered his guest, his Scottish accent 
 predominating when in anger, though otherwise not particularly 
 remarkable, — " ye donnard auld crippled idiot, what have I to do 
 with the session, or the geese that flock to it, or the hawks that pick 
 their pinions for them ? " 
 
 " Troth, and that's true,'' said mine host, who, in fact, only spoke 
 upon a very general recollection of the stranger's original education, 
 yet would have been sorry not to have been supposed accurate as 
 to the station and profession of him, or any other occasional guest 
 — " That's very true — ^but I thought ye had some law affair of your 
 ain to look after — I have ane my sell — a ganging plea that my father 
 left me, and his father afore left to him. It's about our back-yard — 
 ye'Il maybe hae heard of it in the Parliament-House, Hutchison 
 against Mackitchinson — it's a weel-kenn'd plea — it's been four times 
 in afore the fifteen, and deil onything the wisest o' them could make 
 o't, but just to send it out again to the outer-house — O it's a beauti- 
 ful thing to see how lang and how carefully justice is considered in 
 this country ! " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you fool," said the traveller, but in great 
 good-humour, " and tell us what you can give this young gentleman 
 and me for dinner." 
 
 "Ou, there's fish, nae doubt, — that's sea-trout and caller had- 
 docks," said Mackitchinson, twisting his napkin ; " and ye'll be for 
 
23 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 a mutton-cliop, and there's cranberry tarts very weel preserved, and 
 — and there's just onything else ye like." 
 
 " Which is to say, there is nothing else whatever ? Well, well, the 
 fish and the chop, and the tarts, will do very well. But don!t imitate 
 the cautious delay that you praise in the courts of justice. Let 
 there be no remits from the inner to the outer-house, hear ye 
 me?" 
 
 " Na, na," said Mackitchinson, whose long and heedful perusal of 
 volumes of printed session papers had made him acquainted with 
 some law phrases — " the denner shall be served quamprimum, and 
 that peremptorie." And with the flattering laugh of a promising 
 host, he left them in his sanded parlour, hung with prints of the 
 Four Seasons. 
 
 As, notwithstanding his pledge to the contrary, the glorious 
 delays of the law were not without their parallel in the kitchen of 
 the inn, our younger traveller had an opportunity to step out and 
 make some inquiry of the people of the house concerning the rank 
 and station of his companion. The information which he received 
 was of a general- and less authentic nature, but quite sufficient to 
 make him acquainted with the name, history, and circumstances of 
 the gentleman, whom we shall endeavour, in a few words, to intro- 
 duce more accurately to our readers. 
 
 Jonathan Oldenbuck, or Oldinbuck, by popular contraction Old- 
 buck, of Monkbarns, was the second son of a gentleman possessed 
 df a small property in the neighbourhood of a thriving seaport town 
 on the north-eastern coast of Scotland, which, for various reasons, 
 we shall denominate Fairport. They had been established for 
 several generations, as landholders in the county, and in most 
 shires of England would have been accounted a family of some 
 
 standing. But the shire of was filled with gentlemen of 
 
 more ancient descent and larger fortune. In the last generation, 
 also, the neighbouring gentry had been almost uniformly Jacobites, 
 while the proprietors of Monkbarns, like the burghers of the town 
 near which they were settled, were steady assertors of the Protestant 
 succession. The latter had, however, a pedigree of their own, on 
 which they prided themselves as much as those who despised 
 them valued their respective Saxon, Norman, or Celtic genealogies. 
 The first Oldenbuck, who had settled in their family mansion 
 shortly after the Reformation, was, they asserted, descended from 
 one of the original printers of Germany, and had left his country in 
 consequence of the persecutions directed against the professors of the 
 Reformed religion. He had found a refuge in the town near which 
 his posterity dwelt, the more readily that he was a sufferer in the 
 Protestant cause, and certainly not the less so, that he brought with 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 23 
 
 him money enough to purchase the small estate of Monkbarns, 
 then sold by a dissipated laird, to whose father it had been gifted, 
 ■with other church lands, on the dissolution of the great and wealthy 
 monastery to which it had belonged. The Oldenbucks were there- 
 fore loyal subjects on all occasions of insurrection ; and, as they 
 kept up a good intelligence with the borough, it chanced that the 
 Laird of Monkbarns, who flourished in 1745, was provost of the 
 town during that ill-fated year, and had exerted himself with much 
 spirit in favour of King George, and even been put to expenses on 
 that score, which, according to the liberal conduct of the existing 
 government towards their friends, had never been repaid him. By 
 dint of solicitation, however, and borough interest, he contrived to 
 gain a place in the customs, and, being a frugal, careful man, had 
 found himself enabled to add considerably to his paternal fortune. 
 He had only two sons, of whom, as we have hinted, the present 
 laird was the younger, and two daughters, one of whom still 
 flourished in single blessedness, and the other, who was greatly 
 more juvenile, made a love-match with a captain in the Forty-twa, 
 who had no other fortune but his commission and a Highland pedi- 
 gree. Poverty disturbed a union which love would otherwise have 
 made happy, and Captain M'Intyre, injustice to his wife and two 
 children, a boy and girl, had found himself obliged to seek his 
 fortune in the East Indies. Being ordered upon an expedition 
 against Hyder Ally, the detachment to which he belonged was cut 
 off, and no news ever reached his imfortunate wife, whether he fell 
 in battle, or was murdered in prison, or survived, in what the habits 
 of the Indian tyrant rendered a hopeless captivity. She sunk under 
 the accumulated load of grief and uncertainty, and left a son and 
 daughter to the charge of her brother, the existing laird of 
 Monkbarns. 
 
 The history of that proprietor himself is soon told. Being, as we 
 have said, a second son, his father destined him to a share in a sub- 
 stantial mercantile concern, cS-rried on by some of his maternal 
 relations. From this Jonathan's mind revolted in the most irrecon- 
 cilable manner. He was then put apprentice to the profession of 
 a writer, or attorney, in which hd profited so far, that he. made him- 
 self master of the whole forms of feudal investitures, and showed 
 such pleasure in reconciling their incongruities and tracing their 
 origin, that his master had great hope he would one day be an able 
 conveyancer. But he halted upon the threshold, and, though he 
 acquired some knowledge of the origin and system of the law of 
 his country, he could never be persuaded to apply it to lucrative and 
 practical purposes. It was not from any inconsiderate neglect of 
 the advantages attending the possession of money that he thus 
 
24 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 deceived the hopes of his master. " Were he thoughtless or 
 light-headed, or rei sua prodigus" said his instructor, " I would 
 know what to make of him. But he never pays away a shilling 
 without looking anxiously after the change, makes his sixpence go 
 farther than another lad's half-crown, and will ponder over an old 
 black-letter copy of the acts of parliament for days, rather than go 
 to the golf or the change-house ; and yet he will not bestow one of 
 these days on a little business of routine, that would put twenty 
 shillings in his pocket — a strange mixture of frugality and industry, 
 and negligent indolence — I don't know what to make of him." 
 
 But in process of time his pupil gained the means of making 
 ■what he pleased of himself ; for his father having died, was not 
 long survived by his eldest son, an arrant fisher and fowler, who 
 departed this life, in consequence of a cold caught in his vocation, 
 while shooting ducks in the swamp called Kittlefitting-moss, not- 
 withstanding his having drunk a bottle of brandy that very night 
 to keep the cold out of his stomach. Jonathan, therefore, suc- 
 ceeded to the estate, and with it to the means of subsisting without 
 the hated drudgery of the law. His wishes were very moderate ; 
 and as the rent of his small property rose with the improvement of 
 the country, it soon greatly exceeded his wants and expenditure ; 
 and though too indolent to make money, he was by no means 
 insensible to the pleasure of beholding it accumulate. The 
 burghers of the town near which he lived regarded him with a sort 
 of envy, as one who affected to divide himself from their rank in 
 society, and whose studies and pleasures seemed to them alike 
 incomprehensible. Still, however, a sort of hereditary respect for 
 the Laird of Monkbarns, augmented by the knowledge of his being 
 a ready-money man, kept up his consequence with this class of his 
 neighbours. The country gentlemen were generally' above him in 
 fortune, and beneath him in intellect, and, excepting one with 
 whom he lived in habits of intimacy, had little intercourse with 
 Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns. He- had, however, the usual resources, 
 the company of the clergyman, and of the doctor, when he chose to 
 request it, and also his own pursuits and pleasures, being in corre- 
 spondence with most of the virtuosi of his time, who, like himself, 
 measured decayed entrenchments, made plans of ruined castles, 
 read illegible inscriptions, and wrote essays on medals in the pro- 
 portion of twelve pages to each letter of the legend. Some habits 
 of hasty irritation he had contracted, partly, it was said in the 
 borough of Fairport, from an early disappointment in love, in 
 virtue of which he had commenced misogynist, as he called it, but 
 yet more by the obsequious attention paid to him by his maiden 
 sister and his orphan niece, whom he had trained to consider him 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. sj 
 
 as the greatest man upon earth, and whom he used to boast of as 
 the only women he had ever seen who were well broke in and 
 bitted to obedience ; though, it must be owned. Miss Grizzy Old- 
 buck was sometimes apt to jibb when he pulled the reins too 
 tight. The rest of his character mu^t be gathered from the story, 
 and we dismiss with pleasure the tiresome task of recapitulation. 
 
 During the time of dinner, Mr. Oldbuck, actuated by the same 
 curiosity which his fellow-traveller had entertained on his account, 
 made some advances, which his age and station entitled him to do 
 in a more direct manner, towards ascertaining the name, destina- 
 tion, and quality of his young companion. 
 
 His name, the young gentleman said, was Lovel. 
 
 " What ! the cat, the rat, and Lovel our dog .'' was he descended 
 from King Richard's favourite .' " 
 
 " He had no pretensions," he said, " to call himself a whelp of 
 that litter ; his father was a north-of-England gentleman. He was 
 at present travelling to Fairport (the town near to which Monk- 
 barns was situated), and, if he found the place agreeable, might 
 perhaps remain there for some weeks." 
 
 "Was Mr. Lovel's excursion solely for pleasure ?" 
 
 " Not entirely." 
 
 " Perhaps on business with some of the commercial people of 
 Fairport ? " 
 
 " It was partly on business, but had no reference to commerce." 
 
 Here he paused ; and Mr. Oldbuck having pushed his inquiries 
 as far as good manners permitted, was obliged to change the con- 
 versation. The Antiquary, though by no means an enemy to good 
 cheer, was a determined foe to all unnecessary expense on a 
 journey ; and upon his companion giving a hint concerning a bottle 
 of port wine, he drew a direful picture of the mixture which he said 
 was usually sold under that denomination, and affirming that 3. 
 little punch was more genuine and better suited for the season, he 
 laid his hand upon the bell to order the materials. But Mackit- 
 chinson had, in his own mind, settled their beverage otherwise, 
 and appeared bearing in his hand an immense double quart bottle, 
 or magnum, as it is called in Scotland, covered with saw-dust and 
 cobwebs, the warrants of its antiquity. 
 
 " Punch ! " said he, catching that generous sound as he entered 
 the parlour, " the deil a drap punch ye'se get here the day, Monk- 
 barns, and that ye may lay your account wi." 
 
 " What do you mean, you impudent rascal ? " 
 
 "Ay, ay, it's nae matter for that — but do you mind the trick ye 
 served me the last time ye were here .' " 
 
 " I trick you ! " 
 
36 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "Ay, just yoursell, Monkbarns. The Laird o' Tamlowrie, and 
 Sir Gilbert Grizzlecleugh, and Auld Rossballoh, and the BaiUe, 
 were just setting in to make an afternoon o't, and you, wi' some o' 
 your auld-warld stories, that the mind o' man canna resist, whirl'd 
 them to the back o' beyont to look at the auld Roman camp — Ah, 
 sir ; " turning to Level, " he wad wile the bird aff the tree wi' the 
 tales he tells about folk lang syne— and did not I lose the drinking 
 o' sax pints o' gude claret, for the deil ane wad hae stirred till he 
 had seen that out at the least ? " 
 
 " D'ye hear the impudent scoundrel ! " said Monkbarns, but 
 laughing at the same time ; for the worthy landlord, as he used to 
 boast, knew the measure of a guest's foot as well as e'er a souter 
 on this side Solway ; " well, well, you may send us in a bottle of 
 port." 
 
 " Port ? Na, na ! ye maun leave port and punch to the like o' 
 us, it's claret that's fit for you lairds ; and, I dare say, nane of the 
 folk ye speak so much o' ever drank either of the twa." 
 
 " Do you hear how absolute the knave is ? Well, my young 
 
 friend, we must for once prefer the Falernian to the vile Sabinum" 
 
 The ready landlord had the cork instantly extracted, decanted 
 
 the wine into a vessel of suitable capaciousness, and, declaring it 
 
 parfumed the very room, left his guests to make the most of it. 
 
 Mackitchinson's wine was really good, and had its effect upon 
 the spirits of the elder guest, who told some^good stories, cut some 
 sly jokes, and at length entered into a learned discussion concern- 
 ing the ancient dramatists ; a ground on which he found his new 
 acquaintance so strong, that at length he began to suspect he had 
 •made them his professional study. " A traveller partly for business 
 and partly for pleasure ? — Why, the stage partakes of both ; it is a 
 labour to the performers, and affords, or is meant to afford, pleasure 
 to the spectators. He seems, in manner and rank, above the class 
 of young men who take that turn ; but I remember hearing them 
 say, that the little theatre at Fairport was to open with the perform- 
 ance of a young gentleman, being his first appearance on any stage. 
 If this should be thee, Lovel !— Lovel .? yes Lovel or BelviUe are 
 just the names which youngsters are apt to assume on such occa- 
 sions — On my life, I am sorry for the lad." 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck was habitually parsimonious, but in no respects 
 mean ; his first thought was to save his fellow-traveller any part of 
 the expense of the entertainment, which he supposed must be in his 
 situation more or less inconvenient. He therefore took an oppor- 
 tunity of settling privately with Mr. Mackitchinson. The young 
 traveller remonstrated against his liberality, and only acquiesced in 
 deference to his years and respectability. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 27 
 
 The mutual satisfaction which they found in each other's society 
 induced Mr. Oldbuck to propose, and Lovel willingly to accept, a 
 scheme for travelling together to the end of their journey. Mr. 
 Oldbuck intimated a wish to pay two-thirds of the hire of a post- 
 chaise, saying, that a proportional quantity of room was necessary 
 to his accommodation ; but this Mr. Lovel resolutely declined. 
 Their expense then was mutual, unless when Lovel occasionally 
 slipt a shilling into the hand of a growling postilion ; for Oldbuck, 
 tenacious of ancient customs, never extended his guerdon beyond 
 eighteen-pence a-stage. In this manner they travelled, until they 
 arrived at Fairport about two o'clock on the following day. 
 
 Lovel probably expected that his travelling companion would 
 have invited him to dinner on his arrival : but his consciousness of 
 a want of ready preparation for unexpected guests, and perhaps some 
 other reasons, prevented Oldbuck from paying him that attention. 
 He only begged to see him as early as he could make it convenient 
 to call in a forenoon, recommended him to a widow who had apart- 
 ments to let, and to a person who kept a decent ordinary ; caution7 
 ing both of them apart, that he only knew Mr. Lovel as a pleasant 
 companion in a post-chaise, and did not mean to guarantee any 
 bills which he might contract while residing at Fairport. The 
 young gentleman's figure and manners, not to mention a well- 
 furnished trunk, which soon arrived by sea, to his address at 
 Fairport, probably wenf as far in his favour as the limited recom- 
 mendation of his fellow-traveller. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 He had a routh o' auld nick-nackets, 
 Rusty aim caps, and jinglin-jackets. 
 Would held the Loudons three in tackets 
 
 A towmond gude ; 
 And parritch-pats, and auld saut-backets, 
 
 Afore the flude. Burns. 
 
 After he had settled himself in his new apartments at Fairport, 
 Mr. Lovel bethought him of paying the requested visit to his 
 fellow-traveller. He did not make it earlier, because, with all the 
 old gentleman's good-humour and information, there had some- 
 times glanced forth in his language and manner towards him an 
 air of superiority, which his companion considered as being fully 
 beyond what the difference of age warranted. He therefore waited 
 the arrival of his baggage from Edinburgh, that he might arrange 
 his dress according to the fashion of the day, and make his exterior 
 
28 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 corresponding to the rank in society which he supposed or felt him- 
 self entitled to hold. 
 
 It was the fifth day after his arrival, that, having made the 
 necessary inquiries concerning the road, he went forth to pay his 
 respects at Monkbarns. A footpath leading over a heathy hill, and 
 through two or three meadows, conducted him to this mansion, 
 which stood on the opposite side of the hill aforesaid, and com- 
 manded a fine prospect of the bay and shipping. Secluded from 
 the town by the rising ground, which also screened it from the 
 north-west wind, the house had a solitary and sheltered appearance. 
 The exterior had little to recommend it. It was an irregular old- 
 fashioned building, some part of which had belonged to a grange, 
 or solitary farm-house, inhabited by the bailiff, or steward, of the 
 monastery, when the place was in possession of the monks. It was 
 here that the community stored up the grain which they received 
 as ground-rent from their vassals ; for, with the prudence belonging 
 to their order, all their conventional revenues were made payable 
 in kind, and hence, as the present proprietor loved to tell, came the 
 name of Monkbarns. To the remains of the bailiff's house, the 
 succeeding lay inhabitants had made various additions in propor- 
 tion to the accommodation required by their families ; and, as this 
 was done with an equal contempt of convenience within and archi- 
 tectural regularity without, the whole bore the appearance of a 
 hamlet which had suddenly stood still when in the act of leading 
 down one of Amphion's, or Orpheus's, country dances. It was 
 surrounded by tall clipped hedges of yew and holly, some of which 
 still exhibited the skill of the iopiarian artist,* and presented 
 curious arm-chairs, towers, and the figures of Saint George and the 
 dragon. The taste of Mr. Oldbuck did not disturb these monu- 
 ments of an art now unknown, and he was the less tempted to do so, 
 as it must necessarily have broken the heart of the old gardener. 
 One tall embowering holly was, however, sacred from the shears ; 
 and, on a garden seat beneath its shade, Lovel beheld his old friend, 
 with spectacles on nose and pouch on side, busily employed in 
 perusing the London Chronicle, soothed by the summer breeze 
 through the rustling leaves, and the distant dash of the waves as 
 they rippled upon the sand. 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck immediately rose, and advanced to greet his 
 travelling acquaintance with a hearty shake of the hand. " By my 
 faith," said he, " I began to think you had changed your mind, and 
 found the stupid people of Fairport so tiresome, that you judged 
 them unworthy of your talents, and had taken French leave, as my 
 old friend and brother antiquary Mac-Cribt did, when he went off 
 with one of my Syrian medals." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 29 
 
 " I hope, my good sir, I should have fallen under no such im- 
 putation." 
 
 " Quite as bad, let me tell you, if you had stolen yourself away 
 without giving me the pleasure of seeing you again. I had rather you 
 had taken my copper Otho himself. — But come, let me show you the 
 way into my sanctum, sanctorum, my cell I may call it, for, except 
 two idle hussies of womankind" (by this contemptuous phrase, 
 borrowed from his brother antiquary, the cynic Anthony a- Wood, 
 Mr. Oldbuck was used to denote the fair sex in general, and his 
 sister and niece in particular), " that, on some idle pretext of rela- 
 tionship, have established themselves in my premises, I live here 
 as much a Caenobite as my predecessor, John o' the Girnell, whose 
 grave I will show you by-and-by." 
 
 Thus speaking, the old gentleman led the way through a low 
 door ; but, before entrance, suddenly stopped short to point out 
 some vestiges of what he called an inscription, and, shaking his 
 head as he pronounced it totally illegible, "Ah ! if you but knew, 
 Mr. Lovel, the time and trouble that these mouldering traces of 
 letters have cost me 1 No mother ever travailed so for a child — 
 and all to no purpose — although I am almost positive that these 
 two last marks imply the figures, or letters, LV, and may give us a 
 good guess at the real date of the building, since we know, aliunde, 
 that it was founded by Abbot Waldimir about the middle of the 
 fourteenth century — and, I profess, I think that centre ornament 
 might be made out by better eyes than mine." 
 
 " I think," answered Lovel, willing to humour the old man, " it 
 has something the appearance of a mitre." 
 
 " I protest you are right ! you are right ! it never struck me be- 
 fore — see what it is to have younger eyes — a mitre— a mitre — it 
 corresponds in every respect." 
 
 The resemblance was not much nearer than that of Polonius's 
 cloud to a whale, or an owzel ; it was sufficient, however, to set the 
 Antiquary's brains to work. " A mitre, my dear sir," continued he, 
 as he led the way through a labyrinth of inconvenient and dark 
 passages, and accompanied his disquisition with certain necessary 
 cautions to his guest — " A mitre, my dear sir, will suit our abbot as 
 well as a bishop — he was a mitred abbot, and at the very top of the 
 roll — take care of these three steps — I know Mac-Cribb denies this, 
 but it is as certain as that he took away my Antigonus, no leave asked 
 — you'll see the name of the Abbot of Trotcosey, Abbas Trotfoco- 
 siettsis, at the head of the rolls of parliament in the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries — there is very little light here, and these cursed 
 womankind always leave their tubs in the passage — now take care 
 of the corner — ascend twelve steps, and ye are safe ! " 
 
3r> THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck had by this time attained the top of the winding 
 stair which led to his own apartment, and opening a door, and 
 pushing aside a piece of tapestry with which it was covered, his 
 first exclamation was, " What are you about here, you sluts ? " A 
 dirty barefooted chambermaid threw down har duster, detected in 
 the heinous fact of arranging the sanctum sanctorum, and fled out 
 of an opposite door from the face of her incensed master. A gen- 
 teel-looking young woman, who was superintending the operation, 
 stood her ground, but with some timidity. 
 
 " Indeed, uncle, your room was not fit to be seen, and I just 
 came to see that Jenny laid every thing down where she took 
 ■it up." 
 
 " And how dare you, or Jenny either, presume to meddle with 
 my private matters ? " (Mr. Oldbuck hated putting to rights as 
 much as Dr. Orkborne, or any other professed student.) '* Go 
 sew your sampler, you monkey, and do not let me find you here 
 again, as you value your ears. — I assure you, Mr. Lovej, that the 
 last inroad of these pretended friends to cleanliness was almost as 
 fatal to my collection as Hudibras's visit to that of Sidrophel ; and 
 I have ever since missed 
 
 ' My copperplate, with almanacks 
 Engraved upon't, and other knacks; 
 My mioon-dial, with Napier's bones, 
 And several constellation stones ; 
 My flea, my morepeon, and punaise, 
 I purchased for my proper ease.' 
 
 And so forth, as old Butler has it." 
 
 The young lady, after curtseying to Lovel, had taken the oppor- 
 tunity to make her escape during this enumeration of losses. 
 "You'll be poisoned here with the volumes of dust they have 
 raised," continued the Antiquary ; " but I assure you the dust was 
 very ancient, peaceful, quiet dust,'about an hour ago, and would have 
 remained so for a hundred years, had not these gipsies disturbed it, 
 as they do everything else in the worlds" 
 
 It was indeed some time before Lovel could, through the thick 
 atmosphere, perceive in what sort of den his friend had constructed 
 his "retreat. ^ It was a lofty room, of middling size, obscurely 
 lighted by high narrow latticed wmdows. One end was entirely 
 occupied, by book-shelves, greatly too liniited in space for the num- 
 ber of volumes placed upon them, which were„therefore, drawn up 
 in ranks of two or three files deep, while numberless others, littered 
 the floor and the tables, amid a chaos of maps, engravings, scraps 
 of parchment,, bundles of papers, pieces of old armour, swords, 
 dirks, helmets, and Highland targets. Behind Mr. OldbucVs seat 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 31 
 
 (which was an ancient leathern-covered easy-chair, worn smooth by 
 constant use), was a huge oaken cabinet, decorated at each corner 
 with Dutch cherubs, having their little duck-wings displayed, and 
 great jolter-headed visages placed between them. The top of this 
 cabinet was covered with busts, and Roman lamps and paterae, in- 
 termingled with one or two bronze figures. The walls of the apart- 
 ment were partly clothed with grim old tapestry, representing the 
 memorable story of Sir Gawaine's wedding, in which full justice 
 was done to the ugliness of the Lothely Lady ; although, to judge 
 from his own looks, the gentle knight had less reason to be dis- 
 gusted with the match on account of disparity of outward favour, 
 than the romancer has given us to understand. The rest of the 
 room was panelled, or wainscotted, with black oak, against which 
 hung two or three portraits in armour, being' characters in Scottish 
 history, favourites of Mr. Oldbuck, and as many in tie-wigs and 
 laced coats, staring representatives of his own ancestors. A large 
 old-fashioned oaken table was covered with a profusion of papers, 
 parchments, books, and nondescript trinkets and gew-gaws, which 
 seemed to have little to recommend them, besides rust and the an- 
 tiquity which it indicates. • In the midst of this wreck of ancient 
 books and utensils, with a gravity equal to Marius among the 
 ruins of Carthage, sat a large black cat, which, to a superstitious 
 eye, might have presented the £-efius loci, the tutelar demon of the 
 apartment. The floor, as well as the table and chairs, was over- 
 flowed by the same mare magnum of miscellaneous trumpery, 
 where it would have been as impossible to find any individual 
 article wanted, as to put it to any use when discovered. 
 
 Amid this medley, it was no easy matter to find one's way to a 
 chair, without stumbling over a prostrate folio, or the still more 
 awkward mischance of overturning some piece of Roman or an- 
 cient British pottery. And, when the chair was attained, it had to 
 be disencumbered, with a careful hand, of engravings which might 
 have received damage, and of antique spurs and buckles, which 
 would certainly have occasioned it to any sudden occupant. Of 
 this the Antiquary made Lovel particularly aware, adding, that his 
 friend, the Rev. Doctor Heavysteme from the Low Countries, had 
 sustained much injury by sitting down suddenly and incautiously 
 on three ancient calthrops, or craw-taes, which had been lately dug 
 up in the bog near Bannockburn, and which, dispersed by Robert 
 Bruce to lacerate the feet of the English • chargers, came thus in 
 process of time to endamage the sitting part of a learned professor 
 of Utrecht. 
 
 Having at length fairly settled himself, and being nothing loath 
 to make inquiry concerning the strange objects around him, which 
 
31 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 his host was equally ready, as far as possible, to explain, Lovel 
 was introduced to a large club, or bludgeon, with an iron spike at 
 the end of it, which, it seems, had been lately found in a field on 
 the Monkbarns property, adjacent to an old burying ground. It 
 had mightily the air of such a stick as the Highland reapers used 
 to walk with on their annual peregrinations from their mountains ; 
 but Mr. Oldbuck was strongly tempted to believe, that, as its shape 
 was singular, it might have been one of the clubs with which the 
 monks armed their peasants in lieu of more martial weapons, 
 whence, he observed, the villains were called Colve-carles, or Kolb- 
 kerls, that is, Clavigeri, or club-bearers. For the truth of this 
 custom, he quoted the chronicle of Antwerp and that of St. Mar- 
 tin ; against which authorities Lovel had nothing to oppose, having 
 never heard of them till that moment. 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck next exhibited thumb-screws, which had given the 
 Covenanters of former days the cramp in their joints, and a collar 
 with the name of a fellow convicted of theft, whose services,- as the 
 inscription bore, had been adjudged to a neighbouring baron, in 
 lieu of the modern Scottish punishment, which, as Oldbuck said, 
 sends such culprits to enrich England by their labour, and them- 
 selves by their dexterity. Many and various were the other 
 curiosities which he showed; but it was chiefly upon his books that 
 he prided himself, repeating, with a complacent air, as he led the 
 way to the crowded and dusty shelves, the verses of old Chaucer — 
 
 " For he would rather have, at his bed-head, 
 A twenty books, clothed in black or red. 
 Of Aristotle, or his philosophy. 
 Than robes rich, rebeck, or saltery.'' 
 
 This pithy motto he delivered, shaking his head, and giving each 
 guttural the true Anglo-Saxon enunciation, which is now forgotten 
 in the southern parts of this realm. 
 
 The collection was indeed a curious one, and might well be en- 
 vied by an amateur. Yet it was not collected at the enormous 
 prices of modern times, which are sufficient to have appalled the 
 most determined as weU as earliest bibliomaniac upon record, whom 
 we take to have been none else than the renowned Don Quixote 
 de la Mancha, as, among other slight indications of an infirm un- 
 derstanding, he is stated, by his veracious historian, Cid Hamet 
 BenengeU, to have exchanged fields and farms for foUos and 
 quartos of chivalry. In this species of exploit, the good knight- 
 errant has been imitated by lords, knights, and squires of our own 
 day, though we have not yet heard of any that has mistaken an 
 inn for a castle, or laid his lance in rest against a windmill. Mr. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 33 
 
 Oldbuck did not follow these collectors in such excess of expendi- 
 ture ; but, taking a pleasure in the personal labour of forming his 
 library, saved his purse at the expense of his time and toil. He 
 was no encourager of that ingenious race of peripatetic middle- 
 men, who, trafficking between the obscure keeper of a stall and the 
 eager amateur, make their profit at once of the ignorance of the 
 former, and the dear-bought skill and taste of the latter. When 
 such were mentioned in his hearing, he seldom failed to point out 
 how necessary it was to arrest the object of your curiosity in its 
 first transit, and to tell his favourite story of Snuffy Davie and Cax- 
 ton's Game at Chess. — " Davy Wilson," he said, " commonly called 
 Snuffy Davy, from his inveterate addiction to black rappee, was 
 the very prince of scouts for searching blind alleys, cellars, and 
 stalls, for rare volumes. He had the scent of a slow-hound, sir, 
 and the snap of a bull-dog. He would detect you an old black- 
 letter baUad among the leaves of a law-paper, and find an editio 
 princeps under the mask of a school Corderius. Snuffy Davie 
 bought the ' Game of Chess, 1474,' the first book ever printed in 
 England, from a stall in Holland, for about two groschen, or two- 
 pence of our money. He sold it to Osborne for twenty pounds, 
 and as many books as came to twenty pounds more. Osborne re- 
 sold this inimitable windfall to Dr. Askew for sixty guineas. At 
 Dr. Askew's sale," continued the old gentleman, kindling as he 
 spoke, " this inestimable treasure blazed forth in its fuU value, and 
 was. purchased by Royalty itself, for one hundred and seventy 
 pounds ! Could a copy now occur. Lord only knows," he ejacu- 
 lated, with a deep sigh and lifted-up hands, " Lord only knows 
 what would be its ransom ; and yet it was originally secured, by 
 skiU and research, for the easy equivalent of twopence sterling.* 
 Happy, thrice happy. Snuffy Davie ! and blessed were the times 
 when thy industry could be so rewarded ! 
 
 " Even I, sir," he went on, " though far inferior in industry and 
 discernment and presence of mind, to that great man, can show you 
 a few, a very few things, which I have collected, not by force of 
 money, as any wealthy man might, — although, as my friend Lucian 
 says, he might chance to throw away his coin only to illustrate his 
 ignorance, — but gained in a manner that shows I know something 
 of the matter. See this bundle of ballads, not one of them later 
 than 1700, and some of them an hundred years older. I wheedled 
 an old woman out of these, who loved them better than her psalm- 
 book. Tobacco, sir, snuff, and the Complete Syren, were the equi- 
 valent ! For that mutilated copy of the Complaynt of Scotland, I 
 sat out the drinking of two dozen bottles of strong ale with the 
 late learned proprietor, who, in gratitude, bequeathed it to me by 
 
34 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 his last will. These little Elzevirs are the memoranda and trophies 
 of many a walk by night and morning through the Cowgate, the 
 Canongate, the Bow, St. Mary's Wynd, — wherever, in fine, there 
 were to be found brokers and trokers, those miscellaneous dealers 
 in things rare and curious. How often have I stood haggling on a 
 halfpenny, lest, by a too ready acquiescence in the dealer's first 
 price, he should be led to suspect the value I set upon the article ! 
 — how have 1 trembled, lest some passing stranger should chop in 
 between me and the prize, and regarded each poor student of di- 
 vinity that stopped to turn over the books at the stall, as a rival 
 amateur, or prowling bookseller in disguise ! — ^And then, Mr. Lovel, 
 the sly satisfaction with which one pays the consideration, and 
 pockets the article, affecting a cold indifference, while the hand is 
 trembling with pleasure ! — Then to dazzle the eyes of our wealthier 
 and emulous rivals by showing them such a treasure as this"— ^ 
 (displaying a little black smoked book about the size of a primer; 
 — " to enjoy their surprise and envy, shrouding meanwhile, under a 
 veil of mysterious consciousness, our own superior knowledge and 
 dexterity ;— these, my young friend, these are the white moments of 
 life, that repay the toil, and pains, and sedulous attention, which 
 our profession, above all others, so peculiarly demands ! " 
 
 Lovel was not a little amused at hearing the old gentleman run 
 on in this manner, and, however incapable of entering into the full 
 merits of what he beheld, he admired, as much as could have been 
 expected, the various treasures which Oldbuck exhibited. Here 
 were editions esteemed as being the first, and there stood those 
 scarcely less regarded as being the last and best ; here was a book 
 valued because it had the author's final improvements, and there 
 another which (strange to teU !) was in request because it had them 
 not. One was precious because it was a folio, another because it 
 was a duodecimo; some because they were tall, some because they 
 were short ; the merit of this lay in the title-page, of that in the 
 arrangement of the letters in the word Finis. There was, it seemed, 
 no peculiar distinction, however trifling or minute, which might not 
 give value to a volume, providing the indispensable quality of 
 scarcity, or rare occurrence, was attached to it. 
 
 Not the least fascinating was the original broadside — the Dying 
 Speech, Bloody Murder, or Wonderfiil Wonder of Wonders, in its 
 primary tattered guise, as it was hawked through the streets, and 
 sold for the cheap and easy price of one penny, though now worth 
 the weight of that penny in.gold. On these the Antiquary dilated 
 with transport, and read, with a rapturous voice, the elaborate 
 titles, which bore the same proportion to the contents that the 
 painted signs without a showman's booth do to the animals within. 
 
•THE ANTIQUARY. 35 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck, for example, piqued himself especially in possessing 
 an uniqiie broadside, entitled and called " Strange and Wonderful 
 News from Chipping-Norton, in the County of Oxon, of certain 
 dreadful Apparitions which were seen in the Air on the 26th of 
 July, 1610, at Half an Hour after Nine o'Clock at Noon, and con- 
 tinued till Eleven, in which Time was seen Appearances of several 
 flaming Swords, strange Motions of the superior Orbs ; with the 
 unusual Sparkling of the Stars, with their dreadful Continuations : 
 With the Account of the Opening of the Heavensy and strange 
 Appearances therein disclosing themselves, with several other 
 prodigious Circumstances not heard of in any Age, to the great 
 Amazement of the Beholders, as it was communicated in a Letter 
 to one Mr. CoUey, living in West Smithfield, and attested by Thomas 
 Brown, Elizabeth Greenaway, and Anne Gutheridge, who were 
 Spectators of the dreadful Apparitions : And if any one would be 
 further satisfied of the Truth of this Relation, let them repair to 
 Mr. Nightingale's, at the Bear Inn, in West Smithfield, and they 
 may be satisfied." * 
 
 " You laugh at this," said the proprietor of the collection, " and 
 I forgive you. I do acknowledge that the charms on which we 
 doat are not so obvious to the eyes of youth as those of a fair 
 lady ; but you will grow wiser, and see more justly, when you come 
 to wear spectacles. — Yet stay, I have one piece of antiquity, which 
 you, perhaps, will prize more highly." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Oldbuck unlocked a drawer, and took out a 
 bundle of keys, then pulled aside a piece of the tapestry which 
 concealed the door of a small closet, into which he descended by 
 four stone-steps, and, after some tinkling among bottles and cans, 
 produced two long-stalked wine-glasses with bell mouths, such as 
 are seen in Teniers' pieces, and a small bottle of what he called 
 rich racy canary, with a little bit of diet-cake, on a small silver 
 server of exquisite old workmanship. " I will say nothing of the 
 server," he remarked, " though it is said to have been viTought by 
 the old mad Florentine, Benvenuto Cellini. But, Mr. Lovel, our 
 ancestors drank sack — ^you, who admire the drama, know where 
 that's to be found. — Here's success to your exertions at Fairport, 
 
 sir 
 
 I J) 
 
 " And to you, sir, and an ample increase to your treasure, with 
 no more trouble on your part than is just necessary to make the 
 acquisitions valuable." 
 
 After a libation so suitable to the amusement in which they had 
 been engaged, Lovel rose to take his leave, and Mr. Oldbuck pre- 
 pared to give him his company a part of the way, and show him 
 something worthy of his curiosity on his return to Fairport. 
 
36 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 The pawkie auld carle cam ower the lea, 
 Wi' mony good-e'ens and good-morrows to me, 
 Saying, Kind Sir, for your courtesy, 
 Will ye lodge a silly puir man ? 
 
 The Gaberlunzie Man. 
 
 Our two friends moved through a little orchard, where the aged 
 apple-trees, well loaded with fruit, showed, as is usual in the neigh- 
 bourhood of monastic buildings, that the days of the monks had 
 not always been spent in indolence, but often dedicated to horti- 
 culture and gardening. Mr. Oldbuck failed not to make Lovel 
 remark, that the planters of those days were possessed of the 
 modern secret of preventing the roots of the fruit-trees from pene- 
 trating the till, and compelling them to spread in a lateral 
 direction, by placing paving-stones beneath the trees when first 
 planted, so as to interpose between their fibres and the subsoil. 
 " This old fellow," he said, " which was blown down last summer, 
 and still, though half reclined on the ground, is covered with fruit, 
 has been, as you may see, accommodated with such a barrier 
 between his roots and the unkindly till. That other tree has a 
 story : the fruit is called the Abbot's Apple ; the lady of a neigh- 
 bouring baron was so fond of it, that she would often pay a visit to 
 Monkbarns, to have the pleasure of gathering it from the tree. 
 The husband, a jealous man, belike, suspected that a taste so 
 nearly resembling that of Mother Eve prognosticated a similar 
 fall. As the honour of a noble family is concerned, I will say no 
 more on the subject, only that the lands of Lochard and Cringlecut 
 still pay a fine of six bolls of barley annually, to atone the guilt of 
 their audacious owner, who intruded himself and his worldly sus- 
 picions upon the seclusion of the Abbot and his penitent. Admire 
 the little belfry rising above the ivy-mantled porch — there was here 
 a hospitium,,hospitale, or hospitamentum (for it is written all these 
 various ways in the old writings and evidents), in which the 
 monks received pilgrims. — I know our minister has said, in the 
 Statistical Account, that the hospitium was situated either on the 
 lands of Haltweary, or upon those of Half-starvet ; but he is in- 
 correct, Mr. Lovel — that is the gate called still the Palmer's Port, 
 and my gardener found many hewn stones, when he was trenching 
 the ground for winter celery, several of which I have sent as speci- 
 mens to my learned friends, and to the various antiquarian societies 
 of which I am an unworthy member. But I will say no more at 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 37 
 
 present ; I reserve something for another visit, and we have an 
 object of real curiosity before us." 
 
 While he was thus speaking, he led the way briskly through one 
 or two rich pasture meadows to an open heath or common, and so 
 to the top of a gentle eminence. " Here," he said, " Mr. Lovel, is 
 a truly remarkable spot." 
 
 " It commands a fine view," said his companion, looking around 
 him. 
 
 " True : but it is not for the prospect I brought you hither ; do 
 you see nothing else remarkable ? — nothing on the surface of the 
 ground ? " 
 
 " Why, yes ; I do see , something like a ditch, indistinctly 
 marked." 
 
 " Indistinctly ! — pardon me, sir, but the indistinctness must be 
 in your powers of vision — nothing can be more plainly traced — a 
 proper agger or vallum, with its corresponding ditch or fossa. 
 Indistinctly ! why, Heaven help you, the lassie, my niece, as light- 
 headed a goose as womankind affords, saw the traces of the ditch 
 at once. Indistinct ! why the great station ,at Ardoch, or that at 
 Burnswark in Annandale, may be clearer, doubtless, because they 
 are stative forts, whereas this was only an occasional encampment. 
 Indistinct ! why, you must suppose that fools, boors, and idiots, 
 have ploughed up the land, and, like beasts and ignorant savages, 
 have thereby obliterated two sides of the square, and greatly 
 injured the third ; but you see, yourself, the fourth side is quite 
 entire." 
 
 Lovel endeavoured to apologize, and to explain away his ill-timed 
 phrase, and pleaded his inexperience. But he was not at once 
 quite successful. His first expression had come too frankly and 
 naturally not to alarm the Antiquary, and he could not easily get 
 over the shock it had given him. 
 
 " My dear sir," continued the senior, " your eyes are not inex- 
 perienced : you know a ditch from level ground, I presume, when 
 you see them ? Indistinct ! why, the very common people, the 
 very least boy that can herd a cow, calls it the Kaim of Kinprunes ; 
 and if that does not imply an ancient camp, I am ignorant what 
 does." 
 
 Lovel having again acquiesced, and at length lulled to sleep the 
 irritated and suspicious vanity of the Antiquary, he proceeded in 
 his task of cicerone. " You must know," he said, " our Scottish 
 antiquaries have been greatly divided about the local situation of 
 the final conflict between Agricola and the Caledonians — some 
 contend for Ardoch in Strathallan, some for Innerpefifrey, some for 
 the Raedykes in the Mearns, and some are for carrying the scene 
 
38 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 of action as far north as Blair in Athole. Now, after all this dis- 
 cussion," continued the old gentleman, with one of his slyest and^ 
 most complacent looks, " what would you think, Mr. Lovel, — I say, 
 what would you think,— if the memorable scene of conflict should • 
 happen to be on the very spot called the Kaim of Kinprunes; the' 
 property of the obscure and humble individual who now speaks to 
 you."— Then, having paused a little, to suffer his guest to digest a 
 communication so important, he resumed his disquisition in a. 
 higher tone. " Yes, my good friend, I am indeed greatly deceived 
 if this place does not correspond with all the marks of that cele- 
 brated place of action. It was near to the Grampian mountains — 
 lo ! yonder they are, mixing and contending with the sky on the 
 skirts of the horizon ! — It was in conspectu dassis — in sight of the • 
 Roman fleet; and would any admiral, Roman or British, wish a 
 fairer bay to ride in than that on your right hand ? It is astonish- 
 ing how blind we professed antiquaries sometimes are. Sir Robert 
 Sibbald, Saunders Gordon, General Roy, Dr. Stukely, whyjit 
 escaped all of them. — I was unwilling to say a word about it till I 
 had secured the ground, for it belonged to auld Johnnie Howie, a 
 bonnet-laird* hard by, and many a communing we had before he 
 and I could agree. At length — I am almost ashamed to say it— 
 but I even brought my mind to give acre for acre of my good corn- 
 land for this barren spot. But then it was a national concern ; 
 and when the scene of so celebrated an event became my own, I 
 was overpaid. — Whose patriotism would not grow warmer, as old 
 Johnson says, on the plains of Marathon ? I began to trench the 
 ground, to see what might be discovered ; and the third day, sir, 
 we found a stone, which I have transported to Monkbarns, in order 
 to have the sculpture taken off with plaster of Paris ; it bears a 
 sacrificing vessel, and the letters A. D. L. L. which may stand, 
 without much violence, for Agricola Dicavit Libens Lubens." 
 
 ."Certainly, sir; for the Dutch antiquaries claim Caligula as 
 the founder of a hghthouse, on the sole authority of the letters 
 C. C. E. F., which they interpret Caius Caligula Phartim Fecit." 
 
 " True, and it has ever been recorded as a sound exposition. I 
 see we shall make something of you even before you wear spec- 
 tacles, notwithstanding you thought the traces of this beautiful 
 camp indistinct when you first observed them." 
 
 " In time, sir, and by good instruction " 
 
 "—You will become more apt — I doubt it not. You shall peruse, 
 upon your next visit to Monkbarns, my trivial Essay upon Castra- 
 metation, with some particular Remarks upon the Vestiges of 
 Ancient Fortifications lately discovered by the Author at the Kaim 
 of Kinprunes. I think I have pointed out the infallible touchstone 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 39 
 
 of supposed antiquity. I premise a few general rules on that 
 point, on the nature, namely, of the evidence to be received in such 
 cases. Meanwhile be pleased to observe, for examplej that I could 
 press into my service Claudian's famous line, 
 
 " Ille Caledoniis posuit qui castra pruinis." 
 
 For pruinis, though interpreted to mean hoar frosts, to which 
 I own we are somewhat subject in this north-eastern sea-coast, may 
 also signify a locality, namely. Prunes; the Castra Pruinis posita 
 would therefore be the Kaim of Kinprunes. But I waive this, for 
 I am sensible it may be laid hold of by cavillers as carrying down 
 my Castra to the time of Theodosius, sent by Valentinian into 
 Britain as late as the year 367, or thereabout. No, my good 
 friend, I appeal to people's eye-sight— ^is not here the Decuman 
 gate? and there, but for the ravage of the horrid plough, as a 
 learned friend calls it, would be the Praetorian gate — On the left 
 hand you may see some slight vestiges of the porta sinistra, and 
 on the right, one side of ^& porta dextra wellnigh entire. Here, 
 then, let us take our stand, on this^ tumulus, exhibiting the founda- 
 tion of ruined buildings, — the central point — the prcetorium, 
 doubtless, of the camp. From this place, now scarce to be dis- 
 tinguished but by its slight elevation and its greener turf, from the 
 rest of the fortification, we may suppose Agricola to have looked 
 forth on the immense army of Caledonians, 'occupying the de- 
 clivities of yon opposite hill, the infantry rising rank over rank, as 
 the form of ground displayed their array to its utmost advantage, 
 the cavalry and covinarii, by which I understand the charioteers — ■ 
 another guise of folks from your Bond-street four-in-hand men, 
 I trow — scouring the more level space below — 
 
 See, then, Lovel — See- 
 
 See that huge battle moving from the mountains ! 
 Their gilt coats shine like dragon scales ; — their march 
 Like a rough tumbling storm — See them, and view them^ 
 And then see Rome no more ! 
 
 Yes, my dear friend, from this stance it is probable — nay, it is 
 nearly certain, that Julius Agricola beheld what our Beaumont has 
 so admirably described ! — From this very Praetorium " 
 
 A voice from behind interrupted his ecstatic description — 
 " Praetorian here, Prjetorian there, I mind the bigging o't." 
 
 Both at once turned round, Lovel with surprise, and Oldbuck 
 with mingled surprise and indignation, at so uncivil an interruption. 
 An auditor had stolen upon them, unseen and unheard, amid the 
 energy of the Antiquary's enthusiastic declamation and the at- 
 
40 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 tentive civility of Lovel. He had the exterior appearance of a 
 mendicant. A slouched hat of huge dimensions ; a long white 
 beard, which mingled with his grizzled hair ; an aged but strongly 
 marked and expressive countenance, hardened, by climate and 
 exposure to a right brickdust complexion ; a long blue gown, 
 with a pewter badge on the right arm ; two or three wallets, or 
 bags, slung across his shoulder, for holding the different kinds 
 of meal, when he received his charity in kind from those who 
 were but a degree richer than himself ; — all these marked at once 
 a beggar by profession, and one of that privileged class which are 
 called in Scotland the King's Bedes-men, or, vulgarly. Blue- 
 gowns. 
 
 " What is that you say, Edie ? " said Oldbuck, hoping, perhaps, 
 that his ears had betrayed their duty ; " what were you speaking 
 about ? " 
 
 " About this bit bourock, your honour," answered the undaunted 
 Edie ; " I mind the bigging o't." 
 
 " The devil you do ! Why, you old fool, it was here before you 
 were born, and will be after you are hanged, man ! " 
 
 " Hanged or drowned, here or awa, dead or alive, I mind the 
 bigging o't." 
 
 "You — you — you," said the Antiquary, stammering between 
 confusion and anger, " you strolling old vagabond, what the devil 
 do you know about it ? " 
 
 " Ou, I ken this about it, Monkbarns, and what profit have I for 
 telling ye a lie ? — I j^ist ken this about it, that about twenty years 
 syne, I, and a wheen hallenshakers like mysell, and the mason-lads 
 that built the lang dyke that gaes down the loaning, and twa or 
 three herds maybe, just set to wark, and built this bit thing here 
 that ye ca' the — the — Prastorian, and a' just for a bield at auld 
 Aiken 5 Drum's bridal, and a bit blithe gae-down wi' had in't, 
 some sair rainy weather. Mair by token, Monkbarns, if ye howk 
 up the bourock, as ye seem to have begun, ye'll find, if ye hae not 
 fund it aheady, a stane that ane o' the mason-callants cut a ladle 
 on to have a bourd at the bridegroom, and he put four letters on't, 
 that's A. D. L. L. — Aiken Drum's Lang Ladle — for Aiken was ane 
 o' the kale-suppers o' Fife." 
 
 " This," thought Lovel to himself, " is a famous counterpart to 
 the story ot Keip on this syde." — He then ventured to steal a glance 
 at our Antiquary, but quickly withdrew it in sheer compassion. 
 For, gentle reader, if thou hast ever beheld the visage of a damsel 
 of sixteen, whose romance of true love has been blown up by an 
 untimely discovery, or of a child of ten years, whose castle of 
 cards has been blown down by a malicious companion, I can 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 41 
 
 safely aver to you, that Jonathan Oldbuck of Monkbarns looked 
 neither more wise nor less disconcerted. 
 
 " There is some mistake about this," he said, abruptly turning 
 away from the mendicant. 
 
 " Deil a bit on my side o' the wa'," answered the sturdy beggar ; 
 " I never deal in mistakes, they aye bring mischances. — Now, 
 Monkbarns, that young gentleman, that's wi' your honour, thinks 
 little of a carle like me ; and yet, I'll wager I'll tell him whar he 
 was yestreen at the gloamin, only he may-be wadna like to hae't 
 spoken o' in company." 
 
 LoVel's soul rushed to his cheeks, with the vivid blush of two- 
 and-twenty. 
 
 " Never mind the old rogue," said Mr. Oldbuck ; " don't suppose 
 I think the worse of you for your profession ; they are only pre- 
 judiced fools and coxcombs that do so. You remember what old 
 TuUy says in his oration, pro Archia poeia, concerning one of your 
 confraternity — Quis nostrum tarn animo agresti ac durofuit — vt — 
 ut — I forget the Latin — the meaning is, which of us was so rude 
 and barbarous as to remain unmoved at the death of the great 
 Roscius, whose advanced age was so far from preparing us for his 
 death, that we rather hoped one so graceful, so, excellent in his art, 
 ought to be exempted from the common lot of mortality ? So the 
 Prince of Orators spoke of the stage and its professors." 
 
 The words of the old man fell upon Lovel's ears, but without 
 conveying any precise idea to his mind, which was then occupied 
 in thinking by what means the old beggar, who still continued to 
 regard him with a countenance provokingly sly and intelligent, 
 had contrived to thrust himself into any knowledge of his affairs. 
 He put his hand in his pocket as the readiest mode of intimating 
 his desire of secrecy, and securing the concurrence of the person 
 whom -he addressed ; and while he bestowed on him an alihs, the 
 amount of which rather bore proportion to his fears than to his 
 charity, looked at him with a marked expression, which the mendi- 
 cant, a physiognomist by profession, seemed perfectly to under- 
 stand. — " Never mind me, sir, I am no tale-pyet ; but there are 
 -mair een in the warld than mine," answered he, as he pocketed 
 Lovel's bounty, but in a tone to be heard by him alone, and with 
 an expression which amply filled up what was left unspoken. Then 
 turning to Oldbuck — " I am awa' to the manse, your honour. Has 
 your honour ony word there, or to Sir Arthur, for I'll come in by 
 Knockwinnock Castle again e'en ? " 
 
 Oldbuck started as from a dream ; and, in a hurried tone, where 
 vexation strove with a wish to conceal it, paying, at the same time, 
 a tribute to Edie's smooth, greasy, unlined hat, he said, " Go down, 
 
42. THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 go down to Monkbams— let them give you some dinner — Or stay ; 
 if you do go to the manse, or to Knockwinnock, ye need say 
 nothing about that foolish story of yours." 
 
 "Who, I ?" said the mendicant—" Lord bless your honour, nae- 
 body sail ken a word g.bout it frae ine, mair than if the bit bourock 
 had been there since Noah's flood. But, Lord, they tell me your 
 honour has gien Johnnie Howie acre for acre of the laigh crofts for 
 this heathery knowe ! Now, if he has really imposed the bourock 
 on ye for an ancient wark, it's my real opinion the bargain will 
 never baud gude, if you would just bring down your heart to try it 
 at the law, and say that he beguiled ye." 
 
 " Provoking scoundrel ! " muttered the indignant Antiquary 
 between his teeth, — " I'll have the hangman's lash and his back 
 acquainted for this ! " And then, in a louder tone, — " Never mind, 
 Edie — it is all a mistake." 
 
 " Troth, I am thinking sae,'' continued his tormentor, who seemed 
 to have pleasure in rubbing the galled wound, "troth, I aye 
 thought sae"; and it's no sae lang since I said to Lucky Gemmels, 
 ' Never think you, luckie,' said I, ' that his honour Monkbams 
 would hae done sic a daft-like thing, as to gie grund weel worth 
 fifty shillings an acre, for a mailing that would be dear o' a pund 
 Scots. Na, na,' quo' I, ' depend upon't the laird's been imposed 
 upon wi' that wily do-little deevil, Johnnie Howie.' ' But Lord 
 baud a care o' us, sirs, how can that be,' quo' she again, ' when the 
 laird's sae book-learned, there's no the like o' him in the country 
 side, and Johnnie Howie has hardly sense eneugh to ca' the cows 
 out o' his kale-yard ? ' ' Aweel, aweel,' quo' I, ' but ye'll hear he's 
 circumvented him with some of his auld-warld stories,' — for ye 
 ken, laird, yon other time about the bodle that ye thought was an 
 auld coin." 
 
 " Go to the devil ! " said Oldbuck ; and then, in a more mild 
 tone, as one that was conscious his reputation lay at the mercy of 
 his antagonist, he added — " Away with you down to Monkbams, 
 and when I come back, I'll send ye a bottle of ale to the kitchen." 
 
 " Heaven reward your honour ! " This was uttered with the true 
 mendicant whine, as, setting his pike-staff before him, he began to 
 move in the direction of Monkbarns — "But did your honour," 
 turning round, " ever get back the siller ye gae to the travelling 
 packman for the bodle ? " 
 
 " Curse thee, go about thy business ! " 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, sir, God bless your honour ! — I hope yell ding 
 JohAjiie Howie yet, and that I'll live to see it." And so saying, the 
 old beggar moved off, relieving Mr. Oldbuck of recollections 
 which were anything rather than agreeable. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 43 
 
 " Who is this familiar old gentleman ? " said Lovel, when the 
 mendicant was out of hearing. ' 
 
 " O, one of the plagues of the country — I have been always 
 against poor's-rates and a work-house — I think I'll vote for them 
 now, to have that scoundrel shut up. O, your old-remembered 
 guest of a beggar becomes as well acquainted with you as he is 
 with his dish — as intimate as one of the beasts familiar to man 
 which signify love, and with which his own trade is especially , 
 conversant. Who is he ? — why, he has gone the vole — has. been 
 soldier, ballad-singer, travelling tinker, and is now a beggar. He is 
 spoiled by our fooHsh gentry, who laugh at his jokes, and rehearse 
 Edie Ochiltree's good things as regularly as Joe Miller's." 
 
 " Why, he uses freedom apparently, which is the soul of wit," 
 answered Lovel. 
 
 " O ay, freedom enough," said the Antiquary ; " he generally 
 invents some damned improbable lie or another to provoke you, 
 like that nonsense he talked just now — not that I'll publish my tract 
 till I have examined the thing to the bottom." 
 
 " In England," said Lovel, " such a mendicant would get a. 
 speedy check." 
 
 " Yes, your churchwardens and dog-whips would make slender 
 allowance for his vein of humour! But here, curse him ! he is a 
 sort of privileged nuisance — one of the last specimens of the old 
 fashioned Scottish mendicant, who kept his rounds within a par- 
 ticular space, and was the news-carrier, the minstrel, and some- 
 times the historian of the district. That rascal, now, knows more 
 old ballads and traditions than any other man in this and the 
 four next parishes. And after all," continued he, softening as he 
 went on describing Edie's good gifts, "the dog has some good 
 humour. He has borne his hard fate with unbroken spirits, and 
 it's cruel to deny him the comfort of a. laugh at his betters. 
 The pleasure of having quizzed me, as you gay folks would call 
 it, will be meat and drink to him for a day or two. But I must 
 go back and look after him, or he will spread his d^d nonsensical 
 story over half the country." 
 
 So saying, our heroes parted, Mr. Oldbuck to return to his hos- 
 ■pitium at Monkbarns, and Lovel to pursue his way to Fairport, 
 where he arrived without farther adventure. 
 
44 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Launcelot Gobbo. Mark me now : Now will I raise the waters. 
 
 Merchant of Venice. 
 
 The theatre at Fairport had opened, but no Mr. Lovel appeared 
 on the boards, nor was there anything in the habits or deportment 
 of the young gentleman so named, which authorised Mr. Oldbuck's 
 conjecture that his fellow-traveller was a candidate for the public 
 favour. Regular were the Antiquary's inquiries at an old-fashioned 
 barber who dressed the only three wigs in the parish which, in 
 defiance of taxes and times, were still subjected to the operation of 
 powdering and frizzling, and who for that purpose divided his time 
 among the three employers whom fashion had yet left him ; — 
 regular, I say, were Mr. Oldbuck's inquiries at this personage con- 
 cerning the news of the little theatre at Fairport, expecting every 
 day to hear of Mr. Level's appearance ; on which occasion the old 
 gentleman had determined to put himself to charges in honour of 
 his young friend, and not only to go to the play himself, but to 
 carry his womankind along with him. But old Jacob Caxon con- 
 veyed no information which warranted his taking so decisive a 
 step as that of securing a box. 
 
 He brought information, on the contrary, that there was a young 
 man residing at Fairport, of whom the town (by which he meant 
 all the gossips, who, having no business of their own, fill up their 
 leisure moments by attending to that of other people) could make 
 nothing. He sought no society, but rather avoided that which the 
 apparent gentleness of his manners, and- some degree of curiosity, 
 induced many to offer him. Nothing could be more regular, or 
 less resembling an adventurer, than his mode of living, which was 
 simple, but so completely well arranged, that all who had any 
 transactions with him were loud in their approbation. 
 
 " These are not the virtues of a stage-struck hero," thought Old- 
 buck to himself ; and, however habitually pertinacious in his 
 opinions, he must have been compelled to abandon that which he 
 had formed in the present instance, but for a part of Caxon's com- 
 munication. " The young gentleman," he said, " was som.etimes 
 heard speaking to himself, and rampauging about in his room, just 
 as if he was ane o' the player folk." 
 
 Nothing, however, excepting this single circumstance, occurred 
 to confirm Mr. Oldbuck's supposition ; and it remained a high and 
 doubtful question, what a well-informed young man, without friends, 
 connexions, or employment of any kind, could have to do as a 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 43 
 
 resident at Fairport. Neither port wine nor wliist had apparently 
 any charms for him. He decHned dining with the mess of the 
 volunteer cohort which had been lately embodied, and shunned 
 joining the convivialities of either of the two parties which then 
 divided Fairport, as they did more important places. He was too 
 little of an aristocrat to join the club of Royal True Blues, and 
 too little of a democrat to fraternize with an affiliated society of 
 the soi-disant Friends of the People, which the borough had also 
 the happiness of possessing. A coffeeroom was his detestation ; 
 and, 1 grieve to say it, he had as few sympathies with the tea-table. 
 In short, since the name was fashionable in novel-writing, and that 
 is a great while agone, there was never a Master Lovel of whom so 
 little positive was known, and who was so universally described by 
 negatives. 
 
 One negative, however, was important — nobody knew any harm 
 of Lovel. Indeed, had such existed, it would have been speedily 
 made public ; for the natural desire of speaking evil of our neigh- 
 bour could in his case have been checked by no feelings of sympathy 
 for a being so unsocial. On one account alone he fell somewhat 
 under suspicion. As he made free use of his pencil in his solitary 
 walks, and had drawn several views of the harbour, in which the 
 signal tower, and even the four-gun-battery, were introduced, some 
 zealous friends of the public sent abroad a whisper, that this mys- 
 terious stranger must certainly be a French spy. The Sheriff paid 
 his respects to Mr. Lovel accordingly ; but in the interview which 
 followed, it would seem that he had entirely removed that magis- 
 trate's suspicions, since he not only suffered him to remain undis- 
 turbed in his retirement, but, it was credibly reported, sent him 
 two invitations to dinner-parties, both which were civilly declined. 
 But what the nature of the explanation was, the magistrate kept a 
 profound secret, not only from the public at large, but from his 
 substitute, his clerk, his wife, and his two daughters, who formed 
 his privy council on all questions of official duty. 
 
 All these particulars being faithfully reported by Mr. Caxon to 
 his patron at Monkbarns, tended much to raise Lovel in the opinion 
 of his former fellow-traveller. "A decent sensible lad," said he to 
 himself, " who scorns to enter into the fooleries and nonsense ol 
 these idiot people at Fairport. — I must do something for him — I 
 must give him a dinner ; — and I will write Sir Arthur to come to 
 Monkbarns to meet him. — I must consult my womankind." 
 
 Accordingly, such consultation having been previously held, a 
 special messenger, being no other than Caxon himself, was ordered 
 to prepare for a walk to Knockwinnock Castle with a letter, " For 
 
46 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 the honoured Sir Arthur Wardour, of Knockwinnock, Bart." The 
 contents ran thus : 
 
 <' Dear Sir Arthur, 
 
 "On Tuesday, the 17th curt, stilo novo, I hold a csenobitical 
 symposion at Monkbams, and pray you to assist thereat, at four 
 o'clock precisely. If my fair enemy. Miss Isabel, can and will 
 honour us by accompanying you, my womankind will be but too 
 proud to have the aid of such an auxiliary in the cause of resistance 
 to lawful rule and right supremacy. If not, I will send the woman- 
 kind to the manse for .the day. I have a young acquaintance to 
 make known to you, who is touched with some strain of a better 
 spirit than belongs to these giddy-paced times — reveres his elders, 
 and has a pretty notion of the classics — and, as such a youth must 
 have a natural contempt for the people about Fairport, I wish to 
 show him some rational as well as worshipful society. — I am. Dear 
 Sir Arthur, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 " Fly with this letter, Caxon,'' said the senior, holding out his 
 missive, signatum atque sigillatum, "fly to Knockwinnock, and 
 bring me back an answer. Go as fast as if the town-council were 
 met and waiting for the provost, and the provost was waiting for 
 his new powdered wig." 
 
 " Ah, sir," answered the messenger, with a deep sigh, " thae days 
 hae lang game by. Deil a wig has a provost of Fairport worn sin' 
 auld Provost Jervie's time — and he had a quean of a servant-lass 
 that dressed it hersell, wi' the doup o' a candle and a dredging-box. 
 But I hae seen the day, Monkbarns, when the town-council of 
 Fairport wad hae as soon wanted their town-clerk, or their gill of 
 brandy ower-head after the baddies, as they wad hae wanted ilk ane 
 a weel-favoured, sonsy, decent periwig on his pow. Hegh, sirs ! 
 nae wonder the commons will be discontent and rise against the 
 law, when they see magistrates and bailies, and deacons, and 
 the provost himseU, wi' heads as bald and as bare as ane o' my 
 blocks ! " • ' 
 
 " And as well furnished within, Caxon. But away with you ! — 
 you have an excellent view of public affairs, and, I dare say, have 
 touched the cause of our popular discontent as closely as the pro- 
 vost could have done himself. But away with you, Caxon ! " 
 
 And off went Caxon upon his walk of three miles — 
 
 " He hobbled — ^but his heart was good ; 
 Could he go faster than he could % ' 
 
 While he is engaged in his journey and return, it may not be 
 impertinent to inform the reader to whose mansion he was bearing 
 his embassy. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 47 
 
 We have said that Mr. Oldbuck kept little company with the sur- 
 rounding gentlemen, excepting with one person only. This was 
 Sir Arthur Wardour, a baronet of ancient descent, and of a large 
 but embarrassed fortune. His father, Sir Anthony, had been a 
 Jacobite, and had displayed all the enthusiasm of that party, while 
 it could be served with words only. No man squeezed the orange 
 •with more significant gesture ; no one could more dexterously inti- 
 mate a dangerous health without coming under the penal statutes ; 
 and, above aU, none drank success to the cause more deeply and 
 devoutly. But, on the approach of the Highland army in 1745, it 
 would appear that the worthy baronet's zeal became a little more 
 moderate just when, its warmth was of most consequence. He 
 talked much, indeed, of taking the field for the rights of Scotland 
 and Charles Stuart ; but his demipique saddle would suit only one 
 of his horses, and that horse could by no means be brought to 
 stand fire. Perhaps the worshipful owner sympathised in the 
 scruples of this sagacious quadruped, and began to think, that what 
 was so much dreaded by the horse could not be very wholesome 
 for the rider. At any rate, while Sir Anthony Wardour talked, and 
 drank, and hesitated, the sturdy provost of Fairport (who, as we 
 before noticed, was the father of our Antiquary) sallied from his 
 ancient burgh, heading a body of whig-burghers, and seized at 
 once, in the name of George II., upon the Castle of Knockwinnock, 
 and on the four carriage-horses, and person of the proprietor. Sir 
 Anthony was shortly after sent off to the Tower of London by a 
 secretary of state's warrant, and with him went his son, Arthur, 
 then a youth. But as nothing appeared like an overt act of treason, 
 both father and son were soon set at liberty, and returned to their 
 own mansion of Knockwinnock, to drink healths five fathoms deep, 
 and talk of their sufferings in the royal cause. This became so 
 much a matter of habit with Sir Arthur, that, even after his father's 
 death, the non-juring chaplain used to pray regularly for the resto- 
 ration of the rightful sovereign, for the downfall of the usurper, and 
 for deliverance from their cruel and bloodthirsty enemies ; although 
 all ideas of serious opposition to the House of Hanover had long 
 mouldered away, and this treasonable liturgy was kept up rather as 
 a matter of form than as conveying any distinct meaning. So 
 much was this the case, that, about the year 1770, upon a disputed 
 election occurring in the county, the worthy knight fairly gulped 
 down the oaths of abjuration and allegiance, in order to serve a 
 candidate in whom he was interested ; — thus renouncing the heir 
 for whose restoration he weekly petitioned Heaven, and acknow- 
 ledging the usurper whose dethronement he had never ceased to 
 pray for. And to add to this melancholy instance of human incon- 
 
48 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 sistency, Sir Arthur continued to pray for the House of Stuart even 
 after the family had been extinct, and when, in truth, though in his 
 theoretical loyalty he was pleased to regard them as alive, yet, in 
 all actual service and practical exertion, he was a most zealous and 
 devoted subject of George III. 
 
 In other respects. Sir Arthur Wardour lived like most country 
 pjentlemen in Scotland,— hunted and fished— gave and received 
 dinners— attended races and county meetings— was a deputy- 
 lieutenant and trustee upon turnpike acts. But, in his more ad- 
 vanced years, as he became too lazy or unwieldy for field-sports, 
 he supplied them by now and then reading Scottish history ; and, 
 having gradually acquired a taste for antiquities, though neither 
 very deep nor very correct, he became a crony of his neighbour; 
 Mr. Oldbuck of Monkbarns, and a joint labourer with him in his 
 antiquarian pursuits. 
 
 There were, however, points of difference between these two 
 humorists, which sometimes occasioned discord. The faith of Sir 
 Arthur, as an antiquary, was boundless, and Mr. Oldbiick (not- 
 withstanding the aifair of the Praetorium at the Kaim of Kinprunes)' 
 was much more scrupulous' in receiving legends as current and 
 authentic coin. Sir Arthur would have deemed himself guilty of 
 the crime of leze-majesty had he doubted the existence of any single 
 individual of that formidable bead-roll of one hundred and four 
 kings of Scotland, received by Boethius, and rendered classical by 
 Buchanan, in virtue of whom James VI. claimed to rule his ancient 
 kingdom, and whose portraits still frown grimly upon the walls of 
 the gallery of Holyrood. Now Oldbuck, a shrewd and suspicious 
 man, and no respector of divine hereditary right, was apt to cavil at 
 this sacred list, and to affirm, that the procession of the posterity 
 of Fergus through the pages of Scottish history, was as vain and 
 unsubstantial as the gloomy pageant of the descendants of Banquo 
 through the cavern of Hecate. 
 
 Another tender topic, was the good fame of Queen Mary, oi 
 which the knight was a most chivalrous assertor, while the esquire 
 impugned it, in spite both of her beauty and misfortunes. When 
 unhappily, their conversation turned on yet later times, motives of 
 discord occurred in almost every page of history. Oldbuck was, 
 upon principle, a stanch Presbyterian, a ruling elder of the kirk • 
 and a friend to revolution principles and Protestant succession, 
 while Sir Arthur was the very reverse of all this. They agreed, it 
 is true, in dutifullove and allegiance to the sovereign who now fills* 
 the throne ; but this was their only point of union. It therefore 
 often happened, that bickerings hot broke out between them, in 
 which Oldbuck was not always able to suppress his caustic humour, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 49 
 
 while it would sometimes occur to the Baronet that the descendant 
 of a German printer, whose sires had " sought the base fellowship 
 of paltry burghers," forgot himself, and took an unlicensed freedom 
 of debate, considering the rank and ancient descent of his anta- 
 gonist. This, with the old feud of the coach-horses, and the seizure 
 of his manor-place and tower of strength by Mr. Oldbuck's father, 
 would at times rush upon his mind, and inflame at once his cheeks 
 and his arguments. And, lastly, as Mr. Oldbuck thought his 
 worthy friend and compeer was in some respects little better than a 
 fool, he was apt to come more near communicating to him that un- 
 favourable opinion, than the rules of modern politeness warrant. 
 In such cases they often parted in deep dudgeon, and with some- 
 thing like a resolution to forbear each other's company in future. 
 
 " But with the morning calm reflection came ; " 
 
 and as each was sensible that the society of the other had become, 
 through habit, essential to his comfort, the breach was speedily 
 made up between them. On such occasions, Oldbuck, considering 
 that the Baronet's pettishness resembled that of a child, usually 
 showed his superior sense by compassionately making the first ad- 
 vances to reconciliation. But it once or twice happened that the 
 aristocratic pride of the far-descended knight took a flight too 
 offensive to the feelings of the i^epresentative of the typographer. 
 In these cases, the breach between these two originals might have 
 been immortal, but for the kind exertions and interposition of the 
 Baronet's daughter. Miss Isabella Wardour, who, with a son, now 
 absent upon foreign and military service, formed his whole surviv- 
 ing family. She was well aware how necessary Mr. Oldbuck was 
 to her father's amusement and comfort, and seldom failed to inter- 
 pose with effect, when the office of a mediator between them was 
 rendered necessary by the satirical shrewdness of the one, or the 
 assumed superiority of the other. Under Isabella's mild influence 
 the wrongs of Queen Mary were forgotten by her father, and Mr. 
 Oldbuck forgave the blasphemy which reviled the memory of King 
 William. However, as she used in general to take her father's part 
 playfully in these disputes, Oldbuck was wont to call Isabella his 
 fair enemy, though in fact he made more account of her than any 
 other of her sex, of whom, as we have seen, he was no admirer. 
 
 There existed another connexion betwixt these worthies, which had 
 alternately a repelling and attractive influence upon their intimacy. 
 Sir Arthur always wished to borrow ; Mr. Oldbuck was not always 
 willing to lend. Mr. Oldbuck, per contra, always wished to be re- 
 paid with regularity ; Sir Arthur was not always, nor indeed often, 
 prepared to gratify this reasonable desire ; and, in accomplishing 
 
50 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 an arrangement between tendencies so opposite, little miffs would 
 occasionally take place. Still there was a spirit of mutual accom- 
 modation upon the whole, and they dragged on like dogs in couples, 
 with some difSculty and occasional snarling, but without absolutely 
 coming to a stand-still or throttling each other. 
 
 Some little disagreement, such as we have mentioned, arising out 
 of business, or politics, had divided the houses of Knockwirmock 
 and Monkbarns, when the emissary of the latter arrived to dis- 
 charge his errand. In his ancient Gothic parlour, whose windows 
 on one side looked out upon the restless ocean, and, on the other, 
 upon the long straight avenue, was the Baronet seated, now turning 
 over the leaves of a folio, now casting a weary glance where the sun 
 quivered on the dark-green foliage and smooth trunks of the large 
 and branching limes with which the avenue was planted. At length, 
 sight of joy ! a moving object is seen, and it gives rise to the usual 
 inquiries. Who is it ? and what can be his errand ? The old whitish 
 grey coat, the hobbling gait, the hat half-slouched, half-cocked, an- 
 nounced the forlorn maker of periwigs, and left for investigation 
 only the second query. This was soon solved by a servant entering 
 the parlour, — " A letter from Monkbarns, Sir Arthur." 
 
 Sir Arthur took the epistle with a due assumption ofconsequential 
 dignity. ' 
 
 " Take the old man into the kitchen, and let him get some re- 
 freshment," said the young lady, whose compassionate eye had 
 remarked his thin grey hair and weary gait. 
 
 " Mr. Oldbuck, my love, invites us to dinner on Tuesday the 
 17th," said the Baronet, pausing; "he really seems to forget that 
 . he has not of late conducted himself so civilly towards' me as might 
 have been expected." 
 
 " Dear sir, you have so many advantages over poor Mr. Oldbuck, 
 that no wonder it should put him a little out of humour ; but I know 
 he has much respect for your person and your conversation ; no- 
 thing would give him more pain than to be wanting in any real 
 attention." 
 
 " True, true, Isabella ; and one must allow for the original de- 
 scent ; something of the German boorishness still flows in the 
 blood ; something of the whiggish and perverse opposition to 
 established rank and privilege. Ytiu may observe that he never 
 has any advantage of me in dispute, unless when he avails himself 
 of a sort of pettifogging intimacy with dates, names, and trifling 
 matters of fact, a tiresome and frivolous accuracy of memory, which 
 is entirely owing to his mechanical descent." 
 
 " He must find it convenient in historical investigation, I should 
 think, sir ? " said the young lady. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. SI 
 
 " It leads to an uncivil and positive mode of disputing ; and no- 
 thing seems more unreasonable than to hear him impugn even 
 Bellenden's rare translation of Hector Boece, which I have the 
 satisfaction to possess, and which is a black-letter folio of great 
 value, upon the authority of some old scrap of parchment which he 
 has saved from its deserved destiny of being cut up into tailor's 
 measures. And besides, that habit of minute and troublesome 
 accuracy leads to a mercantile manner of doing business, which 
 ought to be beneath a landed proprietor whose family has stood 
 two or three generations — I question if there's a dealer's clerk in 
 Fairport that can sum an account of interest better than Monk- 
 barns." 
 
 " But you'll accept his invitation, sir ? " 
 
 " Why, ye — yes ; we have no other engagement on hand, I think. 
 Who can the young man be he talks of? he seldom picks up new 
 acquaintance ; and he has no relation that I ever heard of." 
 
 " Probably some relation of his brother-in-law. Captain M'Intyre." 
 
 " Very possibly ; yes, we will accept ; the M'Intyres are of a very 
 ancient Highland family. You may answer his card in the affirma- 
 tive, Isabella; I believe I have no leisure to be Dear Sirring 
 myself." 
 
 So this important matter being adjusted. Miss Wardour inti- 
 mated " her own and Sir Arthur's compliments, and that they would 
 have the honour of waiting upon Mr. Oldbuck. Miss Wardour 
 takes this opportunity to renew her hostility with Mr. Oldbuck, on 
 account of his late long absence from Knockwinnock, where his 
 visits give so much pleasure." With this placebo she concluded 
 her note, with which old Caxon, now refreshed in limbs and wind, 
 set out on his return to the Antiquary's mansion. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Moth. By Woden, God of Saxons, 
 From whence comes Wensday, that is Wednesday, 
 Truth is a thing that I will ever keep 
 Unto thylke day in which I creep into 
 
 My sepulcre 
 
 Cart-wright's Ordinary. 
 
 Our young friend Level, who had received a corresponding invi- 
 tation, punctual to the hour of appointment, arrived at Monkbarns 
 about five minutes before four o'clock on the 17th of July. The 
 day had been remarkably sultry, and large drops of rain had 
 
52 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 occasionally fallen, though the threatened showers had as yet 
 passed away. 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck received him at the Palmer's-port in his complete 
 brown suit, grey silk stockings, and wig powdered with all the skill 
 of the veteran Caxon, who, having smelt out the dinner, had taken 
 care not to finish his job till the hour of eating approached. 
 
 " You are welcome to my symposion, Mr. Lovel. And now let 
 me introduce you to my Clogdogdo's, as Tom Otter calls them ; 
 my unlucky and good-for-nothing womankind — males bestia, Mr. 
 Lovel." 
 
 " I shall be disappointed, sir, if I do not find the ladies very 
 undeserving of your satire." 
 
 " Tilley-valley, Mr. Lovel, — which, by the way, one commentator 
 derives from tittivillitium, and another from iaUey-ho — but tilley- 
 valley, I say, a truce with your politeness. You will find them but 
 samples of womankind — But here they be, Mr. Lovel. I present 
 to you, in due order, my most discreet sister Griselda, who disdains 
 the simplicity, as well as patience, annexed to the poor old name of 
 Grizzel ; and my most exquisite niece Maria, whose mother was 
 called Mary, and sometimes Molly." 
 
 The elderly lady rustled in silks and satins, and bore upon her 
 head a,.structure resembling the fashion in the ladies' memorandum- 
 book for the year 1770 — a superb piece of architecture — not much 
 less than a modern Gothic castle, of which the curls might repre- 
 sent the turrets, the black pins the chevaux defrize, and the lappets 
 the banners. 
 
 The face, which, like that of the ancient statues of Vesta, was thus 
 crowned with towers, was large and long, and peaked at nose and 
 chin, and bore, in other respects, such a ludicrous resemblance to 
 the physiognomy of Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck, that Lovel, had they 
 not appeared at once, like Sebastian and Viola in the last scene of 
 the " Twelfth Night," might have supposed that the figure before 
 him was his old friend masquerading in female attire. An antique 
 flowered silk gown graced the extraordinary person to whom be- 
 longed this unparalleled tite, which her brother was wont to say was ' 
 fitter for a turban for Mahound or Termagant, than a,head-gear for 
 a reasonable creature, or Christian gentlewoman. Two long and 
 bony arms were terminated at the elbows by triple blond ruffles, 
 and being folded saltire-ways in front of her person, and decorated 
 with long gloves of a bright vermilion colour, presented no bad re- 
 semblance to a pair of gigantic lobsters. High-heeled shoes, and a 
 short silk cloak, thrown in easy negligence over her shoulders, com- 
 pleted the exterior of Miss Griselda Oldbuck. 
 
 Her niece, the same whom Lovel had seen transiently during his 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 53 
 
 first visit, was a pretty young woman, genteely dressed according to 
 the fashion of the day, with an air of espiiglerie which became her 
 very well, and which was perhaps derived from the caustic humour 
 peculiar to her uncle's family, though softened by transmission. 
 
 Mr. Lovel paid his respects to both ladies, and was answered by 
 the elder with the prolonged curtsey of 1760, drawn from the 
 righteous period, 
 
 When folks conceived a grace 
 Of half an hour's space, 
 
 And rejoiced in a Friday's capon, 
 
 and by the younger with a modern reverence, which, like the 
 festive benediction of a modern divine, was of much shorter 
 duration. 
 
 While this salutation was exchanging. Sir Arthur, with his fair 
 daughter hanging upon Kis arm, having dismissed his chariot, 
 appeared at the garden door, and in all due form paid his respects 
 to the ladies. 
 
 " Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary, " and you, my fair foe, let me 
 make known to you my young friend Mr. Lovel, a gentleman who, 
 during the scarlet-fever which is epidemic at present in this our 
 island, has the virtue and decency to appear in a coat of a civil 
 complexion. You see, however, that the fashionable colour has 
 mustered in his cheeks which appears not in his garments. Sir 
 Arthur, let me present to you a young gentleman, whom your farther 
 knowledge will find grave, wise, courtly, and scholar-like, well seen, 
 deeply read, and thoroughly grounded in all the hidden mysteries 
 of the green-room and stage, from the days of Davie Lindsay down 
 to those of Dibdin — ^he blushes again, which is a sign of grace." 
 
 " My brother," said Miss Griselda, addressing Lovel, " has a 
 humorous way of expressing himself, sir ; nobody thinks anything 
 of what Monkbarns says — so I beg you will not be so confused for 
 the matter of his nonsense ; but you must have had a warm walk 
 beneath this broiling sun — would you take onything — a glass of 
 balm wine ? " 
 
 Ere Lovel could' answer, the Antiquary interposed. "Aroint 
 thee, witch ! wouldst thou poison my guests with thy infernal de- 
 coctions ? Dost thou not remember how it fared with the clergyman 
 whom you seduced to partake of that deceitful beverage?" 
 
 " O fy, fy, brother ! — Sir Arthur, did you ever hear the like ? — ^he 
 
 must have everything his ain way, or he will invent such stories 
 
 But there goes Jenny to ring the old bell to tell us that the dinner 
 is ready." 
 
 Rigid in his economy, Mr. Oldbuck kept no male servant. This 
 
54 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 he disguised under the pretext that the mascuhne sex was too noble 
 to be employed in those acts of personal servitude, which, in all 
 early periods of society, were uniformly imposed on the female. 
 " Why," would he say, " did the boy, Tam Rintherout, whom, at my 
 wise sister's instigation, I, with equal wisdom, took upon trial — why 
 did he pilfer apples, take birds' nests, break glasses, and ultimately 
 steal my spectacles, except that he felt that noble emulation which 
 swells in the bosom of the masculine sex, which has conducted him 
 tw Flanders with a musket on his shoulder, and doubtless will pro- 
 li.'ote him to a glorious halbert, or even to the gallows ? And why 
 does this girl, his 'full sister, Jenny Rintherout, move in the same 
 vocation with safe and noiseless step — shod, or unshod — soft as the 
 pace of a cat, and docile as a spaniel — Why ? but because she is in 
 her vocation. Let them minister to us. Sir Arthur,-^let them 
 minister, I say, — it's the only thing they are fit for. All ancient 
 legislators, from Lycurgus to Mahommed, corruptly called Mahomet, 
 agree in putting them in their proper and subordinate rank, and it 
 is only the crazy heads of our old chivalrous ancestors that erected 
 their Dulcineas into despotic princesses." 
 
 Miss Wardour protested loudly against this ungallant doctrine; 
 but the bell now rung for dinner. 
 
 " Let me do all the offices of fair courtesy to so fair an antago- 
 nist," said the old gentleman, offering his arm. " I remember. 
 Miss Wardour, Mahommed (vulgarly Mahomet) had some hesita- 
 tion about the mode of summoning his Moslemah to prayer. He 
 rejected bells as used by Christians, trumpets as the summons of 
 the Guebres, and finally adopted the human voice. I have had 
 equal doubt concerning my dinner-call. Gongs, now in present 
 use, seemed a newfangled and heathenish invention, and the voice 
 of the female womankind I rejected as equally shrill and dissonant ; 
 wherefore, contrary to the said Mahommed, or Mahomet, I have 
 resumed the bell. It has a local propriety, since it was the 
 conventual signal for spreading the repast in their refectory, and it 
 has die advantage over the tongue of my sister's prime minister, 
 Jenny, that, though not quite so loud and shrill, it ceases ringing 
 the mstant you drop the bell-rope ; whereas we know, by sad 
 experience, that any attempt to silence Jenny, only wakes the 
 sympathetic chime of Miss Oldbuck and Mary M'Intyre to join in 
 chorus." 
 
 With this discourse he led the way to his dining-parlour, which 
 Lovel had not yet seen ; it was wainscotted, and contained some 
 curious paintings. The dining-table was attended by Jenny ; but 
 an old superintendent, a sort of female butler, stood by the side- 
 board, and underwent the burden of bearing several reproofs from 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. , 55 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck, and innuendos, not so much marked, but not less 
 cutting, from his sister. 
 
 The dinner was such as suited a professed antiquary, compre- 
 hending many savoury specimens of Scottish viands, now disused 
 at the tables of those who affect elegance. There was the relishing 
 Solan goose, whose smell is so powerful that he is never cooked 
 within doors. Blood-raw he proved to be on this, occasion, so that 
 Oldbuck half threatened to throw the greasy sea-fowl at the head 
 of the negligent housekeeper, who acted as priestess in presenting 
 this odoriferous offering. But, by good-hap, she had been most 
 fortunate in the hotch-potch, which was unanimously pronounced 
 to be inimitable. " I knew we should succeed here," said Oldbuck 
 exultingly, "for Davie Dibble, the gardener (an old bachelor like 
 myself), takes care the rascally women do not dishonour our 
 vegetables. And here is fish and sauce, and crappit-heads^I 
 acknowledge our womankind excel in that dish — it procures them 
 the pleasure of scolding, for half an hour at least, twice a-week, 
 with auld Maggy Mucklebackit, our fish-wife. The chicken-pie, 
 Mr. Lovel, is made after a recipe bequeathed to me by my departed 
 grandmother of happy memory — And if you will venture on a glass 
 of wine, you will find it worthy of one who professes the maxim of 
 King Alphonso of Castile, — Old wood to burn — old books to read 
 — old wine to <irink — and old friends, Sir Arthur — ay, Mr. Lovel, 
 and young friends too, to converse with." 
 
 " And what news do you bring us from Edinburgh, Monkbarns ?" 
 said Sir Arthur ; " how wags the world in Auld Reekie ? " 
 
 " Mad, Sir Arthur, mad — irretrievably frantic — far beyond dipping 
 in the sea, shaving the crown, or drinking hellebore. The worst 
 sort of frenzy, a military frenzy, hath possessed man, woman, and 
 child." 
 
 " And high time, I think," said Miss Wardour, " when we are 
 threatened with invasion from abroad and insurrection at home." 
 
 " O, I did not doubt you would join the scarlet host against me 
 — ^women, like turkeys, are always subdued by a red rag — But 
 what says Sir Arthur, whose dreams are of standing armies and 
 German oppression ? " 
 
 " Why, I say, Mr. Oldbuck," replied the knight, " that so far as. 
 I am capable of judging, we ought to resist cum toto corporeregni 
 — as the phrase is, unless I have altogether forgotten my Latin — 
 an enemy who comes to propose to us a Whiggish sort of govern- 
 ment, a republican system, and who is aided and abetted by a sort 
 of f^jiatics of the worst kind in our own bowels. I have taken 
 some measures, I assure you, such as become my rank in the 
 community ; for I have directed the constables to take up that old 
 
S6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 scoundrelly beggar, Edie Ocliiltree, for spreading disaffection 
 against church and state through the whole parish. He said 
 plainly to old Caxon, that Willie Howie's Kilmarnock cowl covered 
 more sense than all the three wigs in the parish — I think it is easy 
 to make out that innuendo — But the rogue shall be taught better 
 manners." 
 
 " O no, my dear sir," exclaimed Miss Wardour, " not old Edie, 
 that we have known so long ; — I assure you no constable shall 
 have my good graces, that executes such a warrant." 
 
 " Ay, there it goes," said the Antiquary ; " you, to be a stanch 
 Tory, Sir Arthur, have nourished a fine sprig of Whiggery in your 
 bosom — Why, Miss Wardour is alone sufficient to control a whole 
 quarter-session— a quarter-session? ay, a general assembly or 
 convocation to boot — a Boadicea she — an Amazon, a Zenobia." 
 
 " And yet, with all my courage, Mr. Oldbuck, I am glad to hear 
 our people are getting under arms." 
 
 " Under arms. Lord love thee ! didst thou ever read the history 
 of Sister Margaret, which flowed from a head, that, though now old 
 and somedele grey, has more sense and political intelligence than 
 you find now-a-days in a whole synod ? Dost thou remember the 
 Nurse's dream in that exquisite work, which she recounts in such 
 agony to Hubble Bubble ? — -When she would have taken up a piece 
 of broad-cloth in her vision, lo ! it exploded like a great iron 
 cannon ; when she put out her hand to save a pirn, it perked up in 
 her face in the form of a pistoC My own vision in Edinburgh has 
 been something similar. I called to consult my lawyer ; he was 
 clothed in a dragoon's dress, belted and casqued, and about to 
 mount a charger, which his writing-clerk (habited as a sharp- 
 shooter) walked to and fro before his door — I went to scold my 
 agent for having sent me to advise with a madman ; he had stuck 
 into his head the plume, which in more sober days he wielded 
 between his fingers, and figured as an artillery-officer. My mercer 
 had his spontoon in his hand, as if he measured his cloth by that 
 implement, instead of a legitimate yard. The banker's clerk, who 
 was directed to sum my cash account, blundered it three times, 
 being disordered by the recollection of his military tdUngs-offaX 
 the morning drill. I was ill, and sent for a surgeon — 
 
 He came — but valour so had fired his eye, 
 And such a falchion glitter'd on his thigh. 
 That, by the gods, with such a load of steel, 
 I thought he came to murder,— not to heal ! 
 
 I had recourse to a physician, but he also was practising a more 
 wholesale mode of slaughter than that which his profession had 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 57 
 
 been supposed at all times to open to him. And now, since I have 
 returned here, even our wise neighbours of Fairport have caught 
 the same valiant humour. I hate a gun like a hurt wild duck — I 
 detest a drum like a quaker ; — and they thunder and rattle out 
 yonder upon the town's common, so that every volley and roll goes 
 to my very heart." 
 
 " Dear brother, dinna speak that gate o' the gentlemen volunteers 
 — I am sure they have a most becoming uniform — Weel I wot they 
 have been wet to the very skin twice last week — I met them 
 marching in terribly doukit, an mony a sair hoast was amang them 
 — And the trouble they take, I am sure it claims onr gratitude." 
 
 " And I am sure," said Miss M'Intyre, " that my uncle sent 
 twenty guineas to help out their equipments." 
 
 " It was to buy liquorice and sugar-candy," said the cynic, " to 
 encourage the trade of the place, and to refresh the throats of the 
 officers who had bawled themselves hoarse in the service of their 
 country." 
 
 " Take care, Monkbarns ! we shall set you down among the 
 black-nebs by-and-by." 
 
 " No, Sir Arthur, a tame grumbler I. I only claim the privilege 
 of croaking in my own corner here, without uniting my throat to 
 the grand chorus of the marsh — Ni quiio Rey, ni pongo Rey — I 
 neither make king nor mar king, as Sancho says, but pray heartily 
 for our own sovereign, pay scot and lot, and grumble at the excise- 
 man — But here comes the ewe-milk cheese in good time ; it is a 
 better digestive than politics." 
 
 When dinner was over, and the decanters placed on the table, 
 Mr. Oldbuck proposed the King's health in a bumper, which was 
 readily acceded to both by Lovel and the Baronet, the Jacobitism 
 of the latter being now a sort of speculative opinion merely, — the 
 shadow of a shade. 
 
 After the ladies had left the apartment, the landlord and Sir 
 Arthur entered into several exquisite discussions, in which the 
 younger guest, either on account of the abstruse erudition which 
 they involved, or for some other reason, took but a slender share, 
 till at length he was suddenly started out of a profound reverie by 
 an unexpected appeal to his judgment. 
 
 " I will stand by what Mr. Lovel says ; he was born in the north 
 of England, and may know the very spot." 
 
 Sir Arthur thought it unlikely that so young a gentleman should 
 have paid much attention to matters of that sort. 
 
 " I am avised of the contrary," said Oldbuck. 
 
 " How say you, Mr. Lovel ? — speak up, for your own credit, man." 
 
 Lovel was obliged to confess himself in the ridiculous situation 
 
58 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 of one alike ignorant of the subject of conversation and controversy 
 which had engaged the company for an hour. 
 
 " Lord help the lad, his head has been wool-gathering ! — I 
 thought how it would be when the womankind were admitted — no 
 getting a word of sense out of a young fellow for six hours after. 
 Why, man, there was once a people called the Piks " — 
 
 " More properly Picts," interrupted the Baronet. 
 
 " I say the Pikar, Pikar, Piochtar, Piaghter, or Peughtar" 
 vociferated Oldbuck ; " they spoke a Gothic dialect " 
 
 " Genuine Celtic," again asseverated the knight. 
 
 " Gothic ! Gothic ! I'll go to death upon it ! " counter-asseverated 
 the squire. 
 
 " Why, gentlemen,'' said Lovel, " I conceive that is a dispute 
 which may be easily settled by philologists, if there are any 
 remains of the language." 
 
 " There is but one word," said the Baronet, " but, in spite of 
 Mr. Oldbuck's pertinacity, it is decisive of the question." 
 
 '" Yes, in ' my favour," said Oldbuck : " Mr. Lovel, you shall be 
 judge — I have the learned Pinkerton on my side." 
 
 " I, on mine, the indefatigable and erudite^ Chalmers," 
 
 " Gordon comes into my opinion." 
 
 " Sir Robert Sibbald holds mine." 
 
 " Innes is with me ! " vociferated Oldbucki 
 
 " Ritson has no doubt ! " shouted the Baronet. 
 
 " Truly, gentlemen," said Lovel, " before you muster your forces 
 and overwhelm me with authorities, I should like to know the word 
 in dispute." 
 
 " Benval" said both the disputants at once. 
 
 " Which signifies caput valli," said Sir Arthur. 
 
 " The head of the wall," echoed Oldbuck. 
 
 There Was a deep pause.—" It is rather a narrow foundation to 
 build a hypothesis upon," observed the arbiter. 
 
 " Not a whit, not a whit," said Oldbuck ; " men fight best in a 
 narrow ring— an inch is as good as a mile for a home-thrust." 
 
 " It is decidedly Celtic," said the Baronet ; " every hill in the 
 Highlands begins with Ben." 
 
 " But what say you to Val, Sir Arthur— is it not decidedly the 
 Saxon wallf" 
 
 " It is the Roman vallum," said Sir Arthur; " the Picts borrowed 
 that part of the word." 
 
 " No such thing ; if they borrowed anything, it must have been 
 your BeH, which they might have from the neighbourino- Britons of 
 Strath Cluyd." 
 
 " The Piks, or Picts," said Lovel, " must have been singularly 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 59 
 
 poor in dialect, since, in the only remaining word of their vocabu- 
 lary, and that consisting only of two syllables, they have been con- 
 fessedly obliged to borrow one of them from another language ; 
 and, methinks, gentlemen, with submission, the controversy is not 
 unlike that which the two knights fought, concerning the shield that 
 had one side white and the other black. Each of you claim one- 
 half of the word, and seem to resign the other. But what strikes 
 me most, is the poverty of the language which has left such slight 
 vestiges behind it." 
 
 " You are in an error," said Sir Arthur ; it was a copious language, 
 and they were a great and powerful people — built two steeples ; 
 one at Brechin, one at Abernethy. The Pictish maidens of the 
 blood-royal were kept in Edinburgh Castle, thence called Castrum 
 Puellarum!' 
 
 "A childish legend," said Oldbuck, "invented to give conse- 
 quence to trumpery womankind. It was called the Maiden Castle, 
 quasi lucus a non lucendo, because it resisted every attack, and 
 women never do." 
 
 "There is a list of the Pictish kings," persisted Sir Arthur, "well 
 authenticated, from Crentheminachcryme (the date of whose reign 
 is somewhat uncertain) down to Drusterstone, whose death con- 
 cluded their dynasty. Half of them have the Celtic patronymi'c 
 Mac prefixed — Mac, id est filius-j — ^what do you say to that, 
 Mr. Oldbuck ? There is Drust Macmorachin, Trynel Maclachlin 
 (first of that ancient clan, as it may be judged), and Gormach Mac- 
 donald, Alpin Macmetegus, Drust Mactallargam " (here he was in- 
 terrupted by a fit of coughing) — " ugh, ugh, ugh — Golarge Macchan 
 — ugh, ugh — Macchanan — ugh — Macchananail, Kenneth — ughi — 
 ugh — Macferedith, Eachan Macfungus — and twenty more, decidedly 
 Celtic names, which I could repeat if this damned cough would 
 let me." 
 
 " Take a glass of wine, Sir Arthur, and drink down that bead- 
 roll of unbaptized jargon, that would choke the devil — why, that last 
 fellow has the only inteUigible name you have repeated — they are 
 all of the tribe of Macfungus — mushroom monarchs every one of 
 them ; sprung up from the fumes of conceit, folly, and falsehood, 
 fermenting in the brains of some mad Highland seannachie." 
 
 " I am surprised to hear you, Mr. Oldbuck : yo,u know, or ought 
 to know, that the list of these potentates was copied, by Henry 
 Maule of Melgum, from the Chronicles of Loch-Leven and Saint 
 Andrews, and put forth by him in his short but satisfactory history 
 of the Picts, printed by Robert Freebaim of Edinburgh, and sold 
 by him at his shop in the Parliament Close, in the year of God 
 seventeen hundred and five, or six, I am not precisely certain 
 
So THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 which— but I have a copy at home that stands next to my twelvemo 
 copy of the Scots Acts, and ranges on the shelf with them very 
 well.— What say you to that, Mr. Oldbuck ? " 
 
 " Say? Why, I laugh at Harry Maule and his history," answered 
 Oldbuck, " and thereby comply with his request, of giving it enter- 
 tainment according to its merits." 
 
 " Do not laugh at a better man than yourself," said Sir Arthur, 
 somewhat scornfully. 
 
 " I do not conceive I do. Sir Arthur, in laughing either at him or 
 his history." 
 
 " Henry Maule of Melgum was a gentleman, Mr. Oldbuck." 
 
 " I presume he had no advantage of me in that particular," re- 
 plied the Antiquary, somewhat tartly. 
 
 " Permit me, Mr. Oldbuck— he was a gentleman of high family, 
 and ancient descent, and therefore " 
 
 " The descendant of a Westphalian printer should speak of him 
 with deference ? — Such may be your opinion, Sir Arthur — it is not 
 mine. I conceive that my descent from that painful and indus- 
 trious typographer, Wolfbrand Oldenbuck, who, in the month of 
 December, 1493, under the patronagfe, as the colophon tells us, of 
 Sebaldus Scheyter and Sebastian Kammermaister, accomplished 
 the printing of the great Chronicle of Nuremberg — I conceive, 
 I say, that my descent from that great restorer of learning is ihore 
 creditable to me as a man of letters, than if I had numbered in my 
 genealogy all the brawling, bullet-headed, iron-fisted, old Gothic 
 barons since the days of Crentheminachcryme — not one of whom, 
 I suppose, could write his own name." ' 
 
 " If you mean the observation as a sneer at my ancestry," said 
 the knight, with an assumption of dignified superiority and com- 
 posure, " I have the pleasure to inform you, that the name of my 
 ancestor, Gamelyn de Guardover, Miles, is written fairly with his 
 own hand in the earliest copy of the Ragman-roll." 
 
 " Which only serves to show that he was one of the earliest who 
 set the mean example of submitting to Edward I. What have you 
 to say for the stainless loyalty of your family. Sir Arthur, after such 
 a backsliding as that ? " 
 
 "It's enough, sir," said Sir Arthur, starting up fiercely, and 
 pushing back his chair ; " I shall hereafter take care how I honour 
 with my company one who shows himself so ungrateful for my , 
 condescension." 
 
 " In that you will do as you find most agreeable. Sir Arthur ; 
 I hope, that as I was not aware of the extent of the obligation 
 which you have done me by- visiting my poor house, I may be ex- 
 cused for not having carried my gratitude to the extent of servility." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY 6i 
 
 " Mighty well — mighty well, Mr. Oldbuck — I'wish you a good 
 evening — Mr a — a — a — Shovel — I wish you a very good evening." 
 
 Out of the parlour door flounced the incensed Sir Arthur, as if 
 the spirit of the whole Round Table inflamed his single bosom, and 
 traversed with long strides the labyrinth of passages which con- 
 ducted to the drawing-room. 
 
 " Did you ever hear such an old tup-headed ass ? " said Oldbuck, 
 briefly apostrophizing Lovel. " But I must not let him go in this 
 mad-like way neither." 
 
 So saying, he pushed off after the retreating Baronet, whom he 
 traced by the clang of several doors which he opened in search of 
 the apartment for tea, and slammed with force behind him at every 
 disappointment. " You'll do yourself a mischief," roared the Anti- 
 quary ; " Qui ambulat in tenebris, nescii qtto vadit — You'll tumble 
 down the back-stair." 
 
 Sir Arthur had now got involved in darkness, of which the seda- 
 tive effect is well known to nurses and governesses who have to 
 deal with pettish children. It retarded the, pace of the irritated 
 Baronet, if it did not abate his resentment, and Mr. Oldbuck, better 
 acquainted with the locale, got up with him as he had got his grasp 
 upon the handle of the drawing-room door. 
 
 " Stay a minute, Sir Arthur," said Oldbuck, opposing his abrupt 
 entrance j " don't be quite so hasty, my good old friend — I was 
 a little too rude with you about Sir Gamelyn — why, he is an old 
 acquaintance of mine, man, and a favourite — he kept company 
 with Bruce and Wallace — and, I'll be sworn on a black-letter Bible, 
 only subscribed the Ragman-roll with the legitimate and justifiable 
 intention of circumventing the false Southern — 'twas right Scottish 
 craft, my good knight — hundreds did it — come, come, forget and 
 forgive — confess we have given the young fellow here a right to 
 think us two testy old fools." 
 
 "Speak for yourself, Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, 
 with much majesty. 
 
 " A-well, a-well — a wilful man must have his way.'' 
 
 With that the door opened, and into the drawing-room marched 
 the tall gaunt form of Sir Arthur, followed by Lovel and Mr. Old- 
 buck, the countenances of all the three a little discomposed. 
 
 " I have been waiting for you, sir," said Miss Wardour, " to pro- 
 pose we should walk forward to meet the carriage, as the evening 
 is so fine." 
 
 Sir Arthur readily assented to this proposal, which suited the 
 angry mood in which he found himself ; and having, agreeably to 
 the established custom in cases of pet, refused the refreshment of 
 tea and coffee, he tucked his daughter under his arm ; and, after 
 
6a THE ANTIQUAR7. 
 
 taking a ceremonious leave of the ladies, and a very dry one of 
 Oldbuck— off he marched. 
 
 " I think Sir Arthur has got the black dog on his back again," 
 said Miss Oldbuck. 
 
 " Black dog ! — black devil !— he's more absurd than womankind 
 — What say you, Lovel ? — ^Why, the lad^s gone too." 
 
 " He took his leave, uncle, while Miss Wardour was putting on 
 her things ; but I don't think you observed him." 
 
 " The devil's in the people ! This is all one gets by fussing and 
 busthng, and putting one's self out of one's way in order to give 
 dinners, besides all the charges they are put to ! — O Seged, Em- 
 peror of Ethiopia ! " said he, taking up a cup of tea in the one 
 hand, and a volume of the Rajnbler in the other, — for it was his 
 regular custom to read while he was eating or drinking in presence 
 of his sister, being a practice which served at once to evince his 
 contempt for the society of womankind, and his resolution to lose 
 no moment of instruction, — " O Seged, Emperor of Ethiopia ! well 
 hast thou spoken — No man should presume to say. This shall be 
 a day of happiness." 
 
 Oldbuck proceeded in his studies for the best part of an hour, 
 uninterrupted by the ladies, who each, in profound silence, pursued 
 some female employment. At length, a light and modest tap was 
 heard at the parlour door. " Is that you, Caxon ? — come in, come 
 in, man." 
 
 The old man opened the door, and, thrusting in his meagre face, 
 thatched with thin grey locks, and one sleeve of his white coat, said 
 in a subdued and mysterious tone of voice, " I was wanting to speak 
 to you, sir." 
 
 " Come in then, you old fool, and say what you have got to say." 
 
 " I'll maybe frighten the ladies," said the ex-friseur. 
 
 " Frighten ! " answered the Antiquary, " what do you mean ? — 
 never mind the ladies. Have you seen another ghaist at the Hum- 
 lock-knowe ? " 
 
 " Na, sir, it's no a ghaist this turn," replied Caxon ; — " but I'm 
 no easy in my mind." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of any body that was ? " answered Oldbuck; 
 "what reason has an old battered powder-puff like you to be easy 
 in your mind, more than all the rest of the world besides ? " 
 
 " It's not for mysell, sir ; but it threatens an awfu' night ; and 
 Sir Arthur, and Miss Wardour, poor thing " 
 
 " Why, man, they must have met the carriage at the head of the 
 loaning, or thereabouts ; they must be home long ago." 
 
 " Na, sir ; they didna gang the road by the turnpike to meet the 
 carriage, they gaed by the sands." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 63 
 
 The word operated like electricity on Oldbuck. " The sands ! " 
 he exclaimed ; " impossible ! " 
 
 " Ou, sir, that's what I said to the gardener ; but he says he saw 
 them turn down by the Musselcraig — in troth, says I to him, an 
 that be the case, Davie, I am misdoubting" 
 
 " An almanack ! an almanack ! " said Oldbuck, starting up in 
 great alarm — " not that bauble ! " flinging away a little pocket 
 almanack which his niece offered him — " Great God ! my poor dear 
 Miss Isabella ! — Fetch me instantly the Fairport Almanack." — It 
 was brought, consulted, and added greatly to his agitation. " I'll 
 go myself— call the gardener and ploughman— bid them bring ropes 
 and ladders — bid them raise more help as they come along — keep 
 the top of the cliffs, and halloo down to them — I'll go myself." 
 
 "What is the matter?" inquired Miss Oldbuck and Miss 
 M'Intyre. 
 
 " The tide ! — ^the tide ! " answered the alarmed Antiquary. 
 
 " Had not Jenny better— but no, I'll run myself," said the younger 
 lady, partaking in all her uncle's terrors — " I'll run myself to Saun- 
 ders Mucklebackit, and make him get out his boat." 
 
 "Thank you, my dear, that's the wisest word that has been 
 spoken yet — Run ! run ! — To go by the sands ! " seizing his hat and 
 cane ; " was there ever such madness heard of ! " 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ■ Pleased awhile to view 
 
 The watery waste, the prospect wild and new ; 
 The now receding waters gave them space, 
 On either side, the growing shores to trace ; 
 And then, returning, they contract the scene. 
 Till small and smsJler grows the walk between. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 The information of Davie Dibble, which had spread such general 
 alarm at Monkbams, proved to be strictly correct. Sir Arthur and 
 his daughter had set out, according to their first proposal, to return 
 to Knockwinnock by the turnpike road ; but when they reached the 
 head of the loaning, as it was called, or great lane, which on one 
 side made a sort of avenue to the house of Monkbarns, they dis- 
 cerned, a little way before them, Lovel, who seemed to linger on the 
 way as if to give him an opportunity to join them. Miss Wardour 
 immediately proposed to her father that they should take another 
 direction; and, as the weather was fine, walk home by the sands, 
 which, stretching below a picturesque ridge of rocks, afforded at 
 
64 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 almost all times a pleasanter passage between Knockwinnock and 
 Monkbams than the high-road. 
 
 Sir Arthur acquiesced willingly. " It would be unpleasant," he 
 said, "to be joined by that young fellow, whom Mr. Oldbuck had 
 taken the freedom to introduce them to." And his old-fashioned 
 politeness had none of the ease of the present day, which permits 
 you, if you have a mind, to cut the person you haive associated with 
 for a week, the instant you feel or suppose yourself in a situation 
 which makes it disagreeable to own him. Sir Arthur only stipu- 
 lated, that a little ragged boy, for the guerdon of one penny sterling, 
 should run to meet his coachman, and turn his equipage back to 
 Knockwinnock. 
 
 When this was arranged, and the emissary dispatched, the knight 
 and his daughter left the high-road, and following a wandering 
 path among sandy hillocks, partly grown over with furze and the 
 long grass called bent, soon attained the side of the ocean. The 
 tide was by no means so far out as they had computed; but this 
 gave them no alarm ; there were seldom ten days in the year when 
 it approached so near the cliffs as not to leave a dry passage. But, 
 nevertheless, at periods of spring-tide, or even when the ordinary 
 flood was accelerated by high winds, this road was altogether 
 covered by the sea ; and tradition had recorded several fatal acci- 
 dents which had happened on such occasions. Still, such dangers 
 were considered as remote and improbable; and rather served, 
 with other legends, to amuse the hamlet fireside, than to prevent 
 anyone from going between Knockwinnock and Monkbams by 
 the sands. 
 
 As Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour paced along, enjoying the 
 pleasant footing afforded by the cool moist hard sand. Miss 
 Wardour could not help observing that the last tide had risen 
 considerably above the usual water-mark. Sir Arthur made the 
 same observation, but without its occurring to either of them to be 
 alarmed at the circumstance. The sun was now resting his huge 
 disk upon the edge of the level ocean, and gilded the accumulation 
 of towering clouds through which he had travelled the livelong 
 day, and which now assembled on all sides, like misfortunes and 
 disasters around a sinking empire and failing monarch. Still, 
 however, his dying splendour gave a sombre magnificence to the 
 massive congregation of vapours, forming out of their unsub- 
 stantial gloom the show of pyramids and towers, some touched 
 with gold, some with purple, some with a hue of deep and dark 
 red. The distant sea, stretched beneath this varied and gorgeous 
 canopy, lay almost portentously still, reflecting back the dazzling 
 and level beams of the descending luminary, and the splendid 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 6$ 
 
 colouring of the clouds amidst which he was setting. Nearer to 
 the beach, the tide rippled onward in waves of sparkling silver, 
 that imperceptibly, yet rapidly, gained upon the sand. 
 
 With a mind employed in admiration of the romantic scene, or 
 perhaps on some more agitating topic. Miss Wardour advanced in 
 silence by her father's side, whose recently offended dignity did 
 not stoop to open any conversation. Following the windings of 
 the beach, they passed one projecting point or headland of rock 
 after another, and now found themselves under a huge and con- 
 tinued extent of the precipices by which that iron-bound coast is in 
 most places defended. Long projecting reefs of rock, extending 
 under water, and only evincing their existence by here and there a 
 peak entirely bare, or by the breakers which foamed over those 
 that were partially covered, rendered Knockwinnock bay dreaded 
 by pilots and ship-masters. The crags which rose between the 
 beach and the mainland, to the height of two or three hundred 
 feet, afforded in their crevices shelter for unnumbered sea-fowl, in 
 situations seemingly secured by their diz?y height from the rapacity 
 of man. Many of these wild tribes, with the instinct which sends 
 them to seek the land before a storm arises, were now winging 
 towards their nests with the shrill and dissonant clang which 
 announces disquietude and fear. The disk of the sun became 
 almost totally obscured ere he had altogether sunk below the 
 horizon, and an early and lurid shade of darkness blotted the 
 serene twilight of a summer evening. The wind began next to 
 arise ; but its wild and moaning sound was heard for some time, 
 and its effects became visible on the bosom of the sea, before the 
 gale was felt on shore. The mass of waters, now dark and 
 threatening, began to lift itself in larger ridges, and sink in 
 deeper furrows, forming waves that rose high in foam upon the 
 breakers, or burst upon the beach with a sound resembling distant 
 thunder. 
 
 Appalled by this sudden change of weather. Miss Wardour drew 
 close to her father, and held his arm fast. " I wish," at length she 
 said, but almost in a whisper, as if ashamed to express her increas- 
 ing apprehensions, " I wish we had kept the road we intended, or 
 waited at Monkbarns for the carriage." i 
 
 Sir Arthur looked round, but did not see, or would not acknow- 
 ledge, any signs of an immediate storm. They would reach 
 Knockwinnock, he said, long before the tempest began. But the 
 speed with which he walked, and with which Isabella could hardly 
 keep pace, indicated a feeling that some exertion was necessary to 
 accomplish his consolatory prediction. 
 
 They were now near the centre of a deep but narrow bay, or 
 
 £ 
 
66 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 recess, formed by two projecting capes of high and inaccessibte 
 rock, which shot out into the sea hke the horns of a crescent; and 
 neither durst communicate the apprehension which each began to 
 entertain, that, from the unusually rapid advance of the tide, they 
 might be deprived of the power of proceeding by doubling the 
 promontory which lay before them, or of retreating by the road 
 which brought them thither. 
 
 As they thus pressed forward, longing doubtless to exchange the 
 easy curving line, which the sinuosities of the bay compelled them 
 to adopt, for a straighter and more expeditious path, though less 
 conformable to the line of beauty. Sir Arthur observed a human 
 figure on the beach advancing to meet them. " Thank God," he 
 exclaimed, " we shall get round Halket-head ! that person must 
 have passed it;" thus giving vent to the feeling of hope, though he 
 had suppressed that of apprehension. 
 
 "Thank God indeed!" echoed his daughter, half audibly, half 
 internally, as expressing the gratitude which she strongly felt. 
 
 The figure which advanced to meet them made many signs, 
 which the haze of the atmosphere, now disturbed by wind and by 
 a drizzling rain, prevented them from seeeing or comprehending 
 distinctly. Some time before they met. Sir Arthur could recognise 
 the old blue-gowned beggar, Edie Ochiltree. It is said that even 
 the brute creation lay aside their animosities and antipathies when 
 pressed by an instant and common danger. The beach under 
 Halket-head, rapidly diminishing in extent by the encroachments 
 of a spring-tide and a north-west wind, was in like manner a 
 neutral field, where even a justice of peace and a strolling mendi- 
 cant might meet upon terms of mutual forbearance. 
 
 "Turnback! turnback!" exclaimed the vagrant; "why did ye 
 not turn when I waved to you ?" 
 
 "We thought," replied Sir Arthur, in great agitation, "we thought 
 we could get round Halket-head." 
 
 " Halket-head !" The tide will be running on Halket-head by 
 this time like the Fall of Fyers ! it was a' I could do to get round 
 it twenty minutes since— it was coming in three feet abreast. We 
 will maybe get back by Bally-burgh Ness Point yet. The Lord 
 help us, it's our only chance. We can but try." 
 
 " My God, my child !"— " My father ! my dear father ! " exclaimed 
 the parent and daughter, as, fear lending them strength and speed, 
 theyturnedto retrace theirsteps, and endeavoured to double thepoint, 
 the projection of which formed the southern extremity of the bay. 
 
 " I heard ye were here, frae the bit callant ye sent to meet your 
 carriage," said the beggar, as he trudged stoutly on a step or two 
 behind Miss Wardour ; " and I couldna bide to think o' the dainty 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 67 
 
 young ledd/s peril, that has aye been kind to ilka forlorn heart 
 that cam near her. Sae I lookit at the lift and the rin o' the tide, 
 till I settled it that if I could get down time eneugh to gie you 
 warning, we wad do weel yet. But I doubt, I doubt, I have been be- 
 guiled ! for what mortal ee ever saw sic a race as the tide is rinning 
 e'en now ? See, yonder's the Ratton's Skerry — he aye held his neb 
 abune the water in my day — but he's aneath it now." 
 
 Sir Arthur cast a look in the direction in which the old man 
 pointed. A huge rock, which in general, even in spring-tides, dis- 
 played a hulk like the keel of a large vessel, was now quite under 
 water, and its place only indicated by the boiling and breaking of 
 the eddying waves which encountered its sub-marine resistance. 
 
 " Mak haste, mak haste, my bonny leddy," continued the old 
 man, " mak haste, and we may do yet ! Tak haud o' my arm — an 
 auld and frail arm it's now, but it's been in as sair stress as this is 
 yet. Tak haud o' my arm, my winsome leddy ! D'ye see yon wee 
 black speck amang the wallowing waves yonder? This morning it 
 was as high as the mast o' a brig — it's sma' eneugh now — ^but, 
 while I see as muckle black about it as the crown o' my hat, I 
 winna believe but we'll get round the Bally-burgh Ness, for a' that's 
 come and gane yet." 
 
 Isabella, in silence, accepted from the old man the assistance 
 which Sir Arthur was less able to afford her. The waves had now 
 encroached so much upon the beach, that the firm and smooth 
 footing which they had hitherto had on the sand must be ex- 
 changed for a rougher path close to the foot of the precipice, and 
 in some places even raised upon its lower edges. It would have 
 been utterly impossible for Sir Arthur Wardour, or his daughter, to 
 have found their way along these shelves without the guidance and 
 encouragement of the beggar, who had been there before in high 
 tides, though never, he acknowledged, " in sae awsome a nicht 
 as this." 
 
 It was indeed a dreadful evening. The howling of the storm 
 mingled with the shrieks of the sea-fowl, and sounded like the 
 dirge of the three devoted beings, who, pent between two of the 
 most magnificent, yet most dreadful objects of nature — a raging 
 tide and an insurmountable precipice — ^toiled along their painful 
 and dangerous path, often lashed by the spray of some giant 
 billow, which threw itself higher on the beach than those that had 
 preceded it. Each minute did their enemy gain ground per- 
 ceptibly upon them ! Still, however, loath to relinquish the last 
 hopes of life, they bent their eyes on the black rock pointed out by 
 Ochiltree. It was yet distinctly visible among the breakers, and 
 continued to be so, until they came to a turn in their precarious 
 
 E 2 
 
68 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 path, where an intervening projection of rock hid it from theif 
 sight. Deprived of the view of the beacon on which they had 
 relied, tliey now experienced the double agony of terror and sus- 
 pense. They struggled forward, however ; but, when they arrived 
 at the point from which they ought to have seen the craig, it was 
 no longer visible. The signal of safety was lost among a thousand 
 white breakers, which, dashing upon the point of the promontory) 
 rose in prodigious sheets of snowy foam, as high as the mast of a 
 first-rate man-of-war, against the dark brow of the precipice. 
 
 The countenance of the old man fell. Isabella gave a faint 
 shriek, and, " God have mercy upon us !" which her guide solemnly 
 uttered, was piteously echoed by Sir Arthur — " My child ! my child ! 
 — to die such a death !" 
 
 " My father! my dear father!" his daughter exclaimed, clinging 
 to him — " and you too, who have lost your own life in endeavouring 
 to save ours ! " 
 
 " That's not worth the counting," said the old man. " I hae 
 lived to be weary o' life ; and here or yonder — at the back o' a 
 dyke, in a wreath o' snaw, or in the wame o' a wave, what signifies 
 how the auld gaberlunzie dies?" 
 
 " Good man," said Sir Arthur, " can you think of nothing .'—of 
 no help ? — I'll make you rich — I'll give you a farm — I'll " 
 
 " Our riches will be soon equal," said the beggar, looking out 
 upon the strife of the waters — " they are sae already ; for I hae nae 
 land, and you would give your fair bounds and barony for a square 
 yard of rock that would be dry for twal hours." 
 
 While they exchanged these words, they paused upon the highest 
 ledge of rock to which they could attain ; for it seemed that any 
 further attempt to move forward could only serve to anticipate 
 their fate. Here, then, they were to await the sure though slow 
 progress of the raging element, something in the situation of the 
 martyrs of the early church, who, exposed by heathen tyrants to 
 be slain by wild beasts, were compelled for a time to witness the 
 impatience and rage by which the animals were agitated, while 
 awaiting the signal for undoing their gates, and letting them loose 
 upon the victims. 
 
 Yet even this fearful pause gave Isabella time to collect the 
 powers of a mind naturally strong and courageous, and which 
 rallied itself at this terrible juncture. " Must we yield life," she 
 said, "without a struggle? Is there no path, however dreadful, 
 by which we could climb the craig, or at least attain some height 
 above the tide, where we could remain till morning, or till help 
 comes ? They must be aware of our situation, and will raise the 
 country to relieve us." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 69 
 
 Sir Arthur, who heard, but scarcely comprehended, his daughter's 
 question, turned, nevertheless, instinctively and eagerly to the old 
 man, as if their lives were in his gift. Ochiltree paused. " I was 
 a bauld craigsman," he said, " ance in my life, and mony a kitty- 
 wake's and lungie's nest hae I harried up amang thae very black 
 rocks ; but it's lang, lang syne, and nae mortal could speel them 
 without a rope — and if I had ane, my ee-sight, and my footstep, 
 and my hand-grip, hae a' failed mony a day sinsyne — And then, 
 how could I save you f — But there was a path here ance, though 
 maybe, if we could see it, ye would rather bide where we are — His 
 name be praised ! " he ejaculated suddenly, " there's ane coming 
 down the crag e'en now!" — Then, exalting his voice, he hilloa'd 
 out to the daring adventurer such instructions as his former practice, 
 and the remembrance of local circumstances, suddenly forced upon 
 his mind: — "Ye're right — ye're right!— that gate — that gate! — 
 fasten the rope weel round Crummie's-horn, that's the muckle 
 black stane — cast twa plies round it-r-that's it ! — now, weize yoursell 
 a wee Sasel-ward — a wee mair yet to that ither stane — we ca'd it 
 the Cat's -lug — there used to be the root o' an aik-tree there — that 
 will do ! — canny now, lad — canny now — tak tent and tak time — 
 Lord bless ye, tak time — Vera weel ! — -Now ye maun get to Bessy's 
 Apron, that's the mucHe braid flat blue stane — and then, I think, 
 wi' your help and the tow thegither, I'll win at ye, and then we'll 
 be able to get up the young leddy and Sir Arthur." 
 
 The adventurer, following the directions of old Edie, flung him 
 down the end of the rope, which he secured around Miss Wardour, 
 wrapping her previously in his own blue gown, to preserve her as 
 much as possible from injury. Then, availing himself of the rope, 
 which was made fast at the other end, he began to ascend the face 
 of the crag — a most precarious and dizzy undertaking, which, 
 however, after one or two perilous escapes, placed him safe on the 
 broad flat stone beside our friend Lovel. Their joint strength was 
 able to raise Isabella to the place of safety which they had attained. 
 Lovel then descended in order to assist Sir Arthur, around whom 
 he adjusted the rope ; and again mounting to their place of refuge, 
 with the assistance of old Ochiltree, and such aid as Sir Arthur 
 himself could afford, he raised himself beyond the reach of the 
 billows. 
 
 The sense of reprieve from approaching and apparently in- 
 evitable death, had its usual effect. The father and daughter 
 threw themselves into each other's arms, kissed and wept for joy, 
 although their escape was connected with the prospect of passing 
 a tempestuous night upon a precipitous ledge of rock, which scarce 
 afforded footing for the four shivering beings, who now, like the 
 
70 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 sea-fowl around them, clung there in hopes of some shelter from 
 the devouring element which raged beneath. The spray of the 
 billows, which attained in fearful succession the foot of the pre- 
 cipice, overflowing the beach on which they so lately stood, flew as 
 high as their place of temporary refuge ; and the stunning sound 
 with which they dashed against the rocks beneath, seemed as if 
 they still demanded the fugitives in accents of thunder as their 
 destined prey. It was a summer night, doubtless ; yet the proba- 
 bility was slender, that a frame so delicate as that of Miss Wardour 
 should survive till morning the drenching of the spray ; and the 
 dsashing of the rain, which now burst in full violence, accompanied 
 with deep and heavy gusts of wind, added to the constrained and 
 perilous circumstances of their situation. 
 
 " The lassie !-^the puir sweet lassie !" said the old man : "mony 
 such a night have I weathered at hame and abroad, but, God guide 
 us, how can she ever win through it !" 
 
 His apprehension was communicated in smothered accents to 
 Lovel ; for, with the sort of freemasomy by which bold and ready 
 spirits correspond in moments of danger, and become almost 
 instinctively known to each other, they had established a mutual 
 confidence. — " I'll climb up the cliff again," said Lovel, " there's 
 day-light enough left to see my footing ; I'll climb up, and call for 
 more assistance." 
 
 " Do so, do so, for heaven's sake ! " said Sir Arthur, eagerly. 
 
 " Are ye mad ?" said the mendicant : " Francie o' Fowlsheugh, , 
 and he was the best craigsman that ever speel'd heugh (mair by 
 token, he brake his neck upon the Dunbuy of Slaines), wadna hae 
 ventured upon the Halket-head craigs after sundown^It's God's 
 grace, and a great wonder besides, that ye are not in the middle o' 
 that roaring sea wi' what ye hae done already — I- didna think there 
 was the man left alive would hae come down the craigs as ye did. 
 I question an I could hae done it mysell, at this hour and in 
 this weather, in the youngest and yaldest of my strength— But 
 to venture up again — it's a mere and a clear tempting o' Provi. 
 dence." 
 
 " I have no fear," answered Lovel ; " I marked all the stations 
 perfectly as I came down, and there is still light enough left to see 
 them quite well— I am sure I can do it with perfect safety. Stay 
 here, my good friend, by Sir Arthur and the young lady." 
 
 "Deil be in my feet then," answered the bedesman, sturdily; 
 " if ye gang, I'll gang too ; for between the twa o' us, we'll hae mair 
 than wark eneugh to get to the tap o' the heugh." 
 
 " No, no— stay you here and attend to Miss Wardour— you see 
 Sir Arthur is quite exhausted." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 71 
 
 " Stay yoursell then, and Til gae," said the old man ; " let death 
 spare the green corn, and take the ripe." 
 
 " Stay both of you, I charge you," said Isabella, faintly ; " I am 
 well, and can spend the night very well here — I feel quite refreshed." 
 So saying, her voice failed her — she sunk down, and would haVe 
 fallen from the crag, had she not been supported by Lovel and 
 Ochiltree, who placed her in a posture half sitting, half reclining, 
 beside her father, who, exhausted by fatigue of body and mind so 
 extreme and unusual, had already sat down on &. stone in a sort of 
 stupor. 
 
 " It is impossible to leave them," said Lovel — " What is to be 
 done? — Hark! hark! — did I not hear a halloo?" 
 
 " The skreigh of a Tammie Norie," answered Ochiltree, " I ksn 
 the skirl weel." 
 
 " No, by Heaven !" replied Lovel, " it was a human voice." 
 
 A distant hail was repeated, the sound plainly distinguishable 
 among the various elemental noises, and the clang of the sea-mews 
 by which they were sGrrounded. The mendicant and Lovel exerted 
 their voices in a loud halloo, the former waving Miss Wardour's 
 handkerchief on the end of his staff to make them conspicuous 
 from above. Though the shouts were repeated, it was some time 
 before they were in exact response to their own, leaving the un- 
 fortunate sufferers uncertain whether, in the darkening twilight and 
 increasing storm, they had made the persons who apparently were 
 traversing the verge of the precipice to bring them assistance, 
 sensible of the place in which they had found refuge. At length 
 their halloo was regularly and distinctly answered, and their 
 courage confirmed, by the assurance that they were within hearing, 
 if not within reach, of friendly assistance. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 There is a cliff, whose high and bending head 
 Looks fearfully on the confined deep : 
 Bring me but to the very brim of it. 
 And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear. 
 
 Kinff Lear. 
 
 The shout of human- voices from above was soon augmented, and 
 the gleam of torches mingled with those lights of evening which 
 still remained amidst the darkness of the storm. Some attempt 
 was made to hold communication between the assistants above aad 
 the sufferers beneath, who were still clinging to their precarious 
 place of safety ; but the howling of the teippest limited theirfeter- 
 
7* THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 course to cries as inarticulate as those of the winged denizens of 
 the crag, which shrieked in chorus, alarmed by the reiterated sound 
 of human voices, where they had seldom been heard. 
 
 On the verge of the precipice an anxious group had now as- 
 sembled. Oldbuck was the foremost and most earnest, pressing 
 forward with unwonted desperation to the very brink of the crag, 
 and extending his head (his hat and wig secured by a handkerchief 
 under his chin) over the dizzy height, with an air of deteiTnination 
 which made his more timorous assistants tremble. 
 
 " Haud a care, haud a care, Monkbarns !" cried Caxon, clinging 
 to the skirts of his patron, and withholding him from danger as far 
 as his strength permitted' — " God's sake, haud a care ! — Sir Arthur's 
 drowned already, and an ye fa' over the cleugh too, there will be 
 but ae wig left in the parish, and that's the minister's." 
 
 "Mind the peak there," cried Mucklebackit, an old fisherman 
 and smuggler — " mind the peak — Steenie, Steenie Wilks, bring up 
 the tackle^I'se warrant we'll sune heave them on board, Monk- 
 barns, wad ye but stand out o' the gate." 
 
 " I see them," said Oldbuck — " I see them low down on that fiat 
 stone— Hilli-hilloa, hilli-ho-a!" 
 
 " I see them mysell weel eneugh," said Mucldebackit ; " they are 
 sitting down yonder like hoodie-craws in a mist ; but d'ye think 
 ye'U help them wi' skirling that gate lilte an auld skart before a 
 flaw o' weather.'— Steenie, lad, bring up the mast — Od, I'se hae 
 them up as we used to bouse up the kegs o' gin and brandy lang 
 syne — Get up the pickaxe, make a step for the mast— make the 
 chair fast with the rattlin — haul taught and belay !" 
 
 The fishers had brought with them the mast of a boat, and as 
 half of the country fellows about had now appeared, either out of 
 zeal or curiosity, it was soon sunk in the ground, and sufficiently 
 secured. A yard across the upright mast, and a rope stretched 
 along it, and reeved through a block at each end, formed an 
 extempore crane, which afforded the means of lowering an arm- 
 chair, well secured and fastened, down to the flat shelf on which 
 the sufferers had roosted. Their joy at hearing the preparations 
 going on for their deliverance was considerably qualified when 
 they beheld the precarious vehicle by means of which they were to 
 be conveyed to upper air. It swung about a yard free of the spot 
 which they occupied, obeying each impulse of the tempest, the 
 empty air all around it, and depending upon the security of a rope, 
 which, in the increasing darkness, had dwindled to an almost • 
 imperceptible thread. Besides the hazard of committing a human 
 being to the vacant atmosphere in such a slight means of convey- 
 ance, there was the fearful danger of the chair and its occupant 
 
THE ANTIQUARY, 73 
 
 being dashed, either by the wind or the vibrations of the cord, 
 against the rugged face of the precipice. But to diminish the risk 
 as mucli as possible, the experienced seamen had let down with 
 the chair another line, which being attached to it, and held by the 
 persons beneath, might serve by way of gy, as Mucklebackit ex- 
 pressed it, to render its descent in some measure steady and 
 regular. Still, to commit one's self in such a vehicle, through a 
 howling tempest of wind and rain, with a beetling precipice above 
 and a raging abyss below, required that courage which despair 
 alone can inspire. Yet wild as the sounds and sights of danger 
 were, both above, beneath, and around, and doubtful and dangerous 
 as the mode of escaping appeared to be, Lovel and the old mendi- 
 cant agreed, after a moment's consultation, and after the former, 
 by a sudden strong pull, had, at his own imminent risk, ascer- 
 tained the security of the rope, that it would be best to secure 
 Miss Wardour in the chair, and trust to the tenderness and care 
 of those above for her being safely craned up to the top of the crag. 
 
 " Let my father go first," exclaimed Isabella ; " for God's sake, 
 my friends, place him first in safety !" 
 
 " It cannot be, Miss Wardour," said Lovel ; " your life must be 
 first secured — the rope which bears your weight may " 
 
 " I will not listen to a reason so selfish !" 
 
 " But ye maun listen to it, my bonny lassie," said Ochiltree, " for 
 a' our lives depend on it — besides, when ye get on the tap o' the 
 heugh yonder, ye can gie them a round guess o' what's ganging on in 
 this Patmos o' ours — and Sir Arthur's far by that, as I am thinking." 
 
 Struck with the truth of this reasoning, she exclaimed, " True, 
 most true ; I am ready and willing to undertake the first risk — 
 What shall I say to our friends above ?" 
 
 " Just to look that their tackle does not graze on the face o' the 
 crag, and to let the chair down and draw it up hooly and fairly ; — 
 we will halloo when we are ready." 
 
 With the sedulous attention of a parent to a child, Lovel bound 
 Miss Wardour with his handkerchief, neckcloth, and the mendi- 
 cant's leathern belt, to the back and arms of the chair, ascertaining 
 accurately the security of each knot, while Ochiltree kept Sir 
 Arthur quiet. "What are ye doing wi' my bairn? — what are ye 
 doing ? — She shaU not be separated from me — Isabel, stay with me, 
 I command you !" 
 
 " Lordsake, Sir Arthur, haud your tongue, and be thankful to God 
 that there's wiser folk than you to manage this job," cried the 
 beggar, worn out by the unreasonable exclamations of the poor 
 Baronet. 
 
 " Farewell, my father ! " murmured Isabella — " farewell, my — my 
 
74 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 friends ! " and, shutting her eyes, as Edie's experience recom- 
 mended, she gave the signal to Lovel, and he to those who were 
 above. She rose, while the chair in which she sate was kept steady- 
 by the line which Lovel managed beneath. With a beating heart 
 he watched the flutter of her white dress, until the vehicle was on a 
 level with the brink of the precipice. 
 
 " Canny now, lads, canny now ! " exclaimed old Mucklebackit, 
 who acted as commodore ; " swerve the yard a bit — Now — there ! 
 there she sits safe on dry land." 
 
 A loud shout announced the successful experiment to her 
 fellow-suiferers beneath, who replied with a ready and cheerful 
 halloo. Monkbarns in his ecstasy of joy, stripped his grqat-coat 
 to wrap up the young lady, and would have pulled off his coat and 
 waistcoat for the same purpose, had he not been withheld by the 
 cautious Caxon. " Haud a care o' us ! your honour wiU be killed 
 wi' the hoast — ye 11 no get out o' your iiight-cowl this fortnight — 
 and that will suit us unco ill. — Na, na — there's the chariot down 
 by ; let twa o' the folk carry the young leddy there." 
 
 " You're right," said the Antiquary, re-adjusting the sleeves and 
 collar of his coat, " you're right, Caxon ; this is a naughty night 
 to swim in. — Miss Wardour,' let me convey you to the chariot." 
 
 " Not for worlds, till I see iny father safe." 
 
 In a few distinct words, evincing how much her resolution had 
 surmounted even the mortal fear of so agitating a hazard, she ex- 
 plained the nature of the situation beneath, and the wishes of Lovel 
 and Ochiltree. 
 
 " Right, right, that's right too — I should like to see the son of 
 Sir Gamelyn de Guardover on dry land myself — I have a notion he 
 would sign the abjuration oath, and the Ragman-roll to boot, and 
 acknowledge Queen Mary to be nothing better than she should be, 
 to get alongside my bottle of old port that he ran away from, and 
 left scarce begun. But he's safe now, and here a' comes" — (for the 
 chair was again lowered, and Sir Arthur made fast in it, without 
 much consciousness on his own part) — " here a' comes — bowse away, 
 my boys ! — canny wi' him — a pedigree of a hundred links is hanging 
 on a tenpenny tow — the whole barony of Knockwinnock depends 
 on three plies of hemp — respice finem, respice funem — look to your 
 end — look to a rope's end. — Welcome, welcome, my good old friend, 
 to firm land, though I cannot say to warm land or to dry land — a 
 cord for ever against fifty fathom of water, tliough not in the sense 
 of the base proverb — a fico for the phrase— better sus. per funem, 
 than sus per cnll." 
 
 While Oldbuck ran on in this way. Sir Arthur was safely wrapped 
 in the close embraces of his daughter, who, assuming that authority 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 75 
 
 which the circumstances demanded, ordered some of the assistants 
 to convey him to the chariot, promising to follow in a few minutes. 
 She lingered on the cliff, holding an old countryman's arm, to wit- 
 ness probably the safety of those whose dangers she had shared. 
 
 " What have we here ? " said Oldbuck, as the vehicle once more 
 ascended. " What patched and weather-beaten matter is this ? " 
 Then, as the torches illumined the rough face and grey hairs of old 
 Ochiltree, — " What ! is it thou ? — come, old Mocker, I must needs 
 be friends with thee — but who the devil makes up your party 
 besides ? " 
 
 " Ane that's weel worth ony twa o' us, Monkbarns ; — it's the 
 young stranger lad they ca' Lovel — and he's behaved this blessed 
 night as if he had three lives to rely on, and was willing to waste 
 them a' rather than endanger ither folk's. — Ca' hooly, sirs, as ye wad 
 win an auld's man's blessing ! — mind there's naebody below now 
 to hand the gy — Hae a care o' the Cat's-lug corner — bide weel aff 
 Crummie's-horn ? " 
 
 " Have a care indeed," echoed Oldbuck. " What ! is it my rara 
 avis — my black swan — my phoenix of companions in a post chaise ? 
 — take care of him, Mucklebackit." 
 
 " As muckle care as if he were a greybeard o' brandy ; and 
 I canna take mair if his hair were like John Harlowe's. — Yo ho, my 
 hearts ! bowse away with him ! " 
 
 Lovel did, in fact, run a much greater risk than any of his pre- 
 cursors. His weight was not sufficient to render his ascent steady 
 amid such a storm of wind, and he swung like an agitated pendu- 
 lum at the mortal risk of being dashed against the rocks. But he 
 was young, bold, and active, and, with the assistance of the beggar's 
 stout spiked staff, which he had retained by advice of the proprietor, 
 contrived to bear himself from the face of the precipice, and the yet 
 more hazardous projecting cliffs which varied its surface. Tossed 
 in empty space, like an idle and unsubstantial feather, with a 
 motion that agitated the brain at once with fear and with dizziness, 
 he retained his alertness of exertion and presence of mind ; and it 
 was not until he was safely grounded upon the summit of the cliff, 
 that he felt temporary and giddy sickness. As he recovered from 
 a sort of half swoon, he cast his eyes eagerly around. The object 
 which they would most willingly have sought, was already in the 
 act of vanishing. Her white garment was just discernible as she 
 followed on the path which her father had taken. She had lingered 
 till she saw the last of their company rescued from danger, and 
 until she had been assured by the hoarse voice of Mucklebackit, 
 that " the callant had come off wi' unbrizzed banes, and that he was 
 but in a kind of dwam." But Lovel was not aware that she had 
 
76 THE ANTIQUARY, 
 
 expressed in his fate even this degree of interest, which, though 
 nothing more than was due to a stranger who had assisted her in 
 such an hour of peril, he would have gladly purchased by braving 
 even more imminent danger than he had that evening been exposed 
 to. The beggar she had already commanded to come to Knock- 
 winnock that night. He made an excuse, — " Then to-morrow let 
 me see you." 
 
 The old man promised to obey. Oldbuck thrust something 
 into his hand— Ochiltree looked at it by the torch-light, and re- 
 turned it — " Na, na ! I never tak gowd — besides, Monkbarns, ye 
 wad maybe be rueing it the morn." Then turning to the group of 
 fishermen and peasants — " Now, sirs, wha will gie me a supper and 
 some clean pease-strae ? " 
 
 " I," " and I," " and I," answered many a ready voice. 
 
 " Aweel, since sae it is, and I can only sleep in ae barn at ance, 
 I'll gae down wi' Saunders Mucklebackit — he has aye a soup o' 
 something comfortable about his biggin — and, bairns, I'll maybe 
 , live to put ilka ane o' ye in mind some ither night that ye hae 
 promised me quarters and my awmous ; " and away he went with 
 the fisherman. 
 
 Oldbuck laid the hand of strong possession on Lovel — " Deil 
 a stride ye's go to Fairport this night, young man — you must go 
 home with me to Monkbarns. Why, man, you have been a hero — 
 a perfect Sir William Wallace, by all accounts. Come, my good 
 lad, take hold of my arm ; — I am not a prime support in such a 
 wind — ^but Caxon shall help us out — Here, you old idiot, come on 
 the other side of me. — And how the deil got you down to that in- 
 fernal Bessy's-apron, as they call it ? Bess, said they — ^Why, curse 
 her, she has spread out that vile pennon or banner of womankind, 
 like all the rest of her sex, to allure her votaries to death and head- 
 long ruin." 
 
 " I have been pretty well accustomed to climbing, and I have 
 long observed fowlers practise that pass down the cliff." 
 
 " But how, in the name of all that is wonderful, came you to dis- 
 cover the danger of the pettish Baronet and his far more deserving 
 daughter ? " 
 
 " I saw them from the verge of the precipice." 
 
 " From the verge ? — umph — And what possessed you, dumosa 
 pendere ptocul de rupe f — ^though dumosa is not the appropriate 
 epithet— what the deil, man, tempted ye to the verge of the craig?" 
 
 " Why — I like to see the gathering and growling of a coming 
 storm — or, in your own classical language, Mr. Oldbuck, suave 
 mari magno^r^T\& so forth — but here we reach the turn to Fairport. 
 I must wish you good-night." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 77 
 
 " Not a step, not a pate, not an inch, not a shathmont, as I may- 
 say ; the meaning of which word has puzzled many that tliinlc them- 
 selves antiquaries. I am clear we should read salmon-length for 
 shathmont's length. You are aware that the space allotted for the 
 passage of a salmon through a dam, dike, or weir, by statute, is the 
 length within which a full-grown pig can turn himself round — now 
 I have a scheme to prove, that, as terrestrial objects were thus ap- 
 pealed to for ascertaining submarine measurement, so it must be 
 supposed that the productions of the water were established as gages 
 of the extent of land — Shathmont — salmont — you see the close alli- 
 ance of the sounds ; dropping out two h's and a t, and assuming an 
 /, makes the whole difference — I wish to Heaven no antiquarian 
 derivation had demanded heavier concessions." 
 
 " But, my dear sir, I really must go home — I am wet to the skin." 
 
 " Shalt have my night-gown, man, and slippers, and catch the antij 
 quarian fever as men do the plague, by wearing infected garments — 
 nay, I know what you would be at — you are afraid to put the old 
 bachelor to charges. But is there not the remains of that glorious 
 chicken-pie — which, jneo arbitrio, is better cold than hot— and that 
 bottle of my oldest port, out of which the silly brain-sick Baronet 
 (whom I cannot pardon, since he has escaped breaking his neck) 
 had just taken one glass, when his infirm noddle went a wool- 
 gathering after Gamelyn de Guardover ? " 
 
 So saying, he dragged Lovel forward, till the Palmer's-port of 
 Mdnkbarns received them. Never, perhaps, had it admitted two 
 pedestrians more needing rest ; for Monkbarn's fatigue had been in 
 a degree very contrary to his usual habits, and his more young and 
 robust companion had that evening undergone agitation of mind 
 which had harassed and wearied him even more than his extra- 
 ordinary exertions of body. 
 
 CHAPTER IX; 
 
 " Be brave," she cried, " you yet may be our guest, 
 Our haunted room was ever held the best. 
 If, then, your valour can the sight sustain 
 Of rustling curtains and the cliiiking chain ; 
 If your courageous tongue have powers to talk. 
 When round your bed the horrid ghost shall walk ; 
 If you dare ask it why it leaves its tomb, 
 I'll see your sheets well air'd, and show the room.'' 
 
 True Story. 
 
 They reached the room in which they had dined, and were 
 clamorously welcomed by Miss Oldbuck. 
 
78 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "Where's the younger womankind ? " said the Antiquary. 
 
 " Indeed, brother, amang a' the steery, Maria wadna be guided 
 by me — she set away to the Halket-craig-head — I wonder ye didna 
 see her." 
 
 " Eh ! — what — what's that you say, sister ? — did the girl go out 
 in a night hke this to the Halket-head ? — Good God ! the misery 
 of the night is not ended yet !" 
 
 " But ye winna wait, Monkbams — ye are so imperative and 
 impatient " 
 
 " Tittle-tattle, woman,'' said the impatient and agitated Antiquary, 
 " where is my dear Mary ? " 
 
 " Just where ye suld be yoursell, Monkbams — up-staire, and in 
 her warm bed." 
 
 " I could have sworn it," said Oldbuck, laughing, but obviously 
 much relieved, " I could have sworn it ; — the lazy monkey did not 
 care if we were aU drowned together— why did you say she 
 went out ? " 
 
 " But ye wadna wait to hear out my tale, Monkbams — she gaed 
 out, and she came in again with the gardener sae sune as she saw 
 that nana o' ye were clodded ower the craig, and that Miss War- 
 dour was safe in the chariot ; — she was hame a quarter of an hour 
 synej for it's now ganging ten — sair droukit was she, puir thing, sae 
 I e'en put a glass o' sherry in her water-gruel." 
 
 " Right, Grizel, right — let womankind alone for coddling each 
 other. But hear ye, my venerable sister — Start not at the word 
 venerable ; it implies many praiseworthy qualities besides age ; 
 though that too is honourable, albeit it is the last quality for which 
 womankind would wish to be honoured — But perpend my words : 
 let Lovel and me have forthwith the relics of the chicken-pie, and 
 the reversion of the port." 
 
 " The chicken-pie — the port ! — ou dear ! brother — there was but 
 a wheen banes, and scarce a drap o' the wine." 
 
 The Antiquary's countenance became clouded, though he was too 
 well bred to give way, in the presence of a stranger, to his dis- 
 pleased surprise at the disappearance of the viands on which he 
 had reckoned with absolute certainty. But his sister understood 
 these looks of ire. " Ou dear ! Monkbams, what's the use of 
 making a wark ? " 
 
 " I make no wark as ye call it, woman.'' 
 
 " But what's the use o' looking sae glum and glunch about a 
 pickle banes ?— an ye will hae the truth, ye maun ken the minister 
 came in, worthy man— sair distressed he was, nae doubt, about 
 your precarious situation, as he ca'd it (for ye ken how weel he's 
 gifted wi' words), and here he wad bide till he could hear wi' cer- 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 79 
 
 tainty how the matter was likely to gang wi' ye a' — He said fine 
 things on the duty of resignation to Providence's will, worthy man ! 
 that did he." 
 
 Oldbuck replied, catching the same tone, " Worthy man ! — he 
 cared not how soon Monkbarns had devolved on an heir female, 
 I've a notion ; — and while he was occupied in this Christian office 
 of consolation against impending evil, I reckon that the chicken- 
 pie and my good port disappeared ? " 
 
 " Dear brother, how can you speak of sic frivolities, when you 
 have had sic an escape from the craig ? " 
 
 " Better than my supper has had from the minister's craig, 
 Grizzle — it's all discussed, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Hout, Monkbarns, ye speak as if there was nae mair meat in 
 the house — wad ye not have had me offer the honest man some 
 slight refreshment after his walk frae the manse ? " 
 
 Oldbuck half-whistled, half-hummed, the end of the old Scottish 
 ditty, 
 
 " O, first they eated the white puddings. 
 And then they eated the black, O, 
 And thought the gudeman unto himsell, 
 ' The deil clink down wi' that, O ! " 
 
 His sister hastened to silence his murmurs, by proposing some 
 of the relics of the dinner. He spoke of another bottle of wine, 
 but recommended in preference a glass of brandy, which was really 
 excellent. As no entreaties could prevail on Lovel to indue the 
 velvet night-cap and branched morning-gown of his host, Oldbuck, 
 who pretended to a little knowledge of the medical art, insisted on 
 his going to bed as soon as possible, and proposed to dispatch a 
 messenger (the indefatigable Caxon) to Fairport early in the morn- 
 ing, to procure him a change of clothes. 
 
 This was the first intimation Miss Oldbuck had received that 
 the young stranger was to be their guest for the night ; and such 
 was the surprise with which she was struck by a proposal so 
 uncommon, that, had the superincumbent weight of her head- 
 dress, such as we before described, been less preponderant, her 
 grey locks must have started up on end, and hurled it from its 
 position. 
 
 " Lord haud a care o' us ! " exclaimed the astounded maiden. 
 
 " What's the matter now, Grizel ? " 
 
 " Wad ye but just speak a moment, Monkbarns ? " 
 
 " Speak ! — what should I speak about ? — I want to get to my 
 bed — and this poor young fellow — let a bed be made ready for him 
 instantly." 
 
 " A bed ? — The Lord preserve us ! '^again ejaculated GrizeL 
 
So THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter now? are there not beds and rooms 
 enough in the house ? Was it not an ancient hospitmm, in which 
 I am warranted to say, beds were nightly ma^e down for a score of 
 pilgrims ? " 
 
 " O dear, Monkbarns ! wha kens what they might do lang syne ? 
 — ^but in our time — beds— ay, troth, there's beds enow sic as they 
 are — and rooms enow too — ^but ye ken yoursell the beds haena 
 been sleepit in. Lord kens the time, nor the rooms aired. — If I had 
 kenn'd Mary and me might hae gane down to the manse — Miss 
 Beckie is aye fond to see us (and sae is the minister, brother) — But 
 now, gude save us ! " 
 
 " Is there not the Green Room, Grizel ? " 
 
 " Troth, is there, and it is in decent order too, though naebody 
 has sleepit there since Dr. Heavysterne, and" 
 
 "And what?" 
 
 " And what ! I am sure ye ken yoursell what a night he had — ^ye 
 wadna expose the young gentleman to the like o' that, wad ye ? " 
 
 Lovel interfered upon hearing this altercation, and protested 
 he would far rather walk home than put them to the least inconve- 
 nience — that the exercise would be of service to him — that he 
 knew the road perfectly, by night or day, to Fairport — that the 
 storm was abating, and so forth ; adding all that civility could 
 suggest as an excuse for escaping from a hospitality which seemed 
 more inconvenient to his host than he could possibly have antici- 
 pated. But the howling of the wind, and the pattering of the rain 
 against the windows, with his knowledge of the preceding fatigues 
 of the evening, must have prohibited Oldbuck, even had he enter- 
 tained less regard for his young friend than he really felt, from 
 permitting him to depart. Besides, he was piqued in honour to 
 show that he himself was not governed by womankind — " Sit ye 
 down, sit ye down, sit ye down, man," he reiterated ; " an ye part so, 
 I would I might never draw a cork again, and here comes out one 
 from aprime bottle of — strong ale — right anno dommi — none of your 
 Wassia Quassia decoctions, but brewed of Monkbarns barley — 
 John of the Girnel never drew a better flagon to entertain a 
 wandering minstrel, or palmer, with the freshest news from Pales- 
 tine. — And to remove from your mind the slightest wish to depart, 
 know, that if you do so, your character as a gallant knight is gone 
 for ever. — ^Why, 'tis an adventure, man, to sleep in the Green 
 Room at Monkbarns. — Sister, pray see it got ready — And, although 
 the bold adventurer, Heavysterne, dree'd pain and dolour in that 
 charmed apartment, it is no rfeason why a gallant knight like you, 
 nearly twice as tall, and not half so heavy, should not encounter 
 and break the spell." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 8i 
 
 " What ! a haunted apartment, I suppose ? " 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure — every mansion in this country of the 
 slightest antiquity has its ghosts and its haunted chamber, and you 
 must not suppose us worse off than our neighbours. They are 
 going, indeed, somewhat out of fashion. I have seen the day, 
 when, if you had doubted the reality of the ghost in an old manor- 
 house, you ran the risk of being made a ghost yourself, as Hamlet 
 says. — Yes, if you had challenged the existence of Redcowl in the 
 Castle of Glenstirym, old Sir Peter Pepperbrand would have had 
 ye out of his courtyard, made you betake yourself to your weapon, 
 and if your trick of fence were not the better, would have sticked 
 you like a puddock, on his own baronial middenstead. I once 
 narrowly escaped such an affray — ^but I humbled myself, and 
 apologized to Redcowl ; for, even in my younger days, I was no 
 friend to the monomachia, or duel, and would rather walk with Sir 
 Priest than with Sir Knight. I care not who knows so much of my 
 valour, — thank God, I am old now, and can indulge my irritabili- 
 ties without the necessity of supporting them by cold steel." 
 
 Here Miss Oldbuck re-entered, with a singularly sage expression 
 of countenance. — " Mr. Level's bed's ready, brother — clean sheets 
 — weel aired — a spunk of fire in the chimney — I am sure, Mr. 
 Lovel " (addressing him), " it's no for the trouble — and I hope you 
 will have a good night's rest — But " 
 
 " You are resolved," said the Antiquary, " to do what you can to 
 prevent it." 
 
 " Me ? I am sure I have said naething, Monkbarns." 
 
 " My dear madam," said Lovel, " allow me to ask you the 
 meaning of your obliging anxiety on my account." 
 
 " Ou, Monkbarns does not like to hear of it — but he kens him- 
 sell that the room has an ill name. It's weel minded that it 
 was there auld Rab TuU, the town-clerk, was sleeping when he 
 had that marvellous communication about the grand law-plea 
 between us and the feuars at the Mussel-craig. It had cost a 
 hantle siller, Mi'. Lovel ; for law-pleas were no carried on without 
 siller lang syne mair than they are now^and the Monkbarns of 
 that day — our gudesire, Mr. Lovel, as I said before— was like to be 
 waured afore the Session for want of a paper — Monkbarns there 
 kens weel what paper it was, but I'se warrant he'll no help me out 
 wi' my tale — but it was a paper of great significance to the plea, 
 and we were to be waured for want o't. Aweel, the cause was to 
 come on before the fifteen — in presence, as they ca't — and auld 
 Rab TuU, the town-clerk, he cam ower to make a last search 
 for the paper that was wanting, before our gudesire gaed into 
 Edinburgh to look after his plea — so there was little time to come 
 
 F 
 
82 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 and gang on— He was but a doited snuffy body, Rab, as I've 
 heard— but then he was the town-clerk of Fakport, and the Monk- 
 barns heritors aye employed him on account of their connexion 
 wi' the burgh, ye ken." 
 
 " Sister Grizel, this is abominable," interrupted Oldbuck ; " I 
 vow to Heaven ye might have raised the ghosts of every abbot of 
 Trotcosey, since the days of Waldimir, in the time you have been 
 detailing the introduction to this single spectre. — Learn to be 
 succinct in your narrative — Imitate the concise style of old Aulwey, 
 an experienced ghost seer, who entered his memoranda on these 
 subjects in a terse business-like manner ; exempli gratia — ' At 
 Cirencester, 5 th March, 1670, was an apparition. Being demanded 
 whether good spirit or bad, made no answer, but instantly disap- 
 peared with a curious perfume, and a melodious twang.' — Vide his 
 Miscellanies, p. eighteen, as well as I can remember, and near the 
 middle of the page." 
 
 " O, Monkbams, man ! do ye think everybody is as book- 
 learned as yoursell ? — But ye like to gar folk look like fools — ye 
 can do that to Sir Arthur, and the minister his very seU." 
 
 " Nature has been beforehand with me, Grizel, in both these 
 instances, and in another which shall be nameless ; — 'but take a 
 glass of ale, Grizel, and proceed with your stbry, for it waxes late." 
 
 " Jenny's just warming your bed, Monkbams, and ye maun e'en 
 wait till she's done. — Weel, I was at the search that our gudesire, 
 Monkbams that then was, made wi' auld Rab Tull's assistance ; — 
 but ne'er-be-lickit could they find that was to their purpose. And 
 sae, after they had touzled out mony a leather poke-full 0' papers, 
 the town-clerk had his drap punch at e'en to wash the dust out of 
 his throat — we never were glass-breakers in this house, Mr. Lovel, 
 but the body had got sic a trick of sippling and tippling wi' the 
 bailies and deacons when they met (which was amaist ilka night) 
 concerning the common gude o' the burgh, that he could na weel 
 sleep without it — But his punch he gat, and to bed he gaed — and 
 in the middle of the night he gat a fearfu' wakening.! — ^he was 
 never just himsell after it, and he was strucken wi' the dead palsy 
 that very day four years — He thought, Mr. Lovel, that he heard 
 the curtains o' his bed fissil, and out he lookit, fancying, puir man, 
 it might hae been the cat — But he saw — God hae care o' us 1 it 
 gars my flesh aye creep, though I hae tauld the story twenty times 
 . — he saw a weel-fa'ard auld gentleman standing by his bedside, in 
 the moonlight, in a queer-fashioned dress, wi' mony a button and 
 band-string about it, and that part o' his garments which it does 
 not become a leddy to particulareeze, was baith side and wide, and 
 as mony plies o't as of ony Hamburg skipper's.— He had a beard 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 83 
 
 too, and whiskers turned upwards on his upper-lip, as long as 
 baudrons' — and mony mair particulars there were that Rab Tull 
 tauld o', but they are forgotten now — it's an auld story. Aweel, 
 Rab was a just-living man for a country writer — -and he was less 
 fear'd than maybe might just hae been expected — and- he asked in 
 the name o' goodness what the apparition wanted — And the spirit 
 answered in an unknown tongue. — Then Rab said he tried him wi' 
 Erse, for he cam in his youth frae the braes of Glenlivat — but it 
 wadna do. — Aweel in this strait, he bethought him of the twa or 
 three words o' Latin, that he used in making out the town's deeds, 
 and he had nae sooner tried the spirit wi' that, then out cam sic a 
 blatter o' Latin about his lugs, that poor Rab Tull, wha was nae 
 great scholar, was clean overwhelmed. Od, but he was a ba'uld 
 body, and he minded the Latin name for the deed that he was 
 wanting. It was something about a cart, I fancy, for the ghaist 
 cried aye. Carter, carter" — — 
 
 " Carta, you transformer of languages ! " cried Oldbuck ; " if my 
 ancestor had learned no other language in the other world, at least 
 he would not forget the Latinity for which he was so famous while 
 in this." 
 
 " Weel, weel, carta be it then, but they ca'd it carter that tell'd 
 me the story. It cried aye carta, if sae be that it was carta, and 
 made a sign to Rab to follow it. Rab Tull keepit a highland heart, 
 and bang'd out o' bed, and till sonie of his readiest claes — and he 
 did follow the thing up stairs and down stairs to the place we ca' 
 the high dow-cot, (a sort of a little tower in the corner of the auld 
 house, where there was a rickle o' useless boxes and trunks,) and 
 there the ghaist gae Rab a kick wi' the tae foot, and a kick wi' the 
 tother, to that very auld east-country tabernacle of a cabinet that 
 my brother has standing beside his library table, and then disap- 
 peared like a fuff o' tobacco, leaving Rab in a very pitiful 
 condition." 
 
 " Tenuis secessit in auras" quoth Oldbuck, " Marry, sir, mansit 
 odor — But, sure enough, the deed was there found in a drawer of 
 this forgotten repository, which contained many other curious old 
 papers, now properly labelled and arranged, and which seemed to 
 have belonged to my ancestor, the first possessor of Monkbarns. 
 The deed, thus strangely recovered, was the original Charter of 
 Erection of the Abbey, Abbey Lands, and so forth, of Trotcosey, 
 comprehending Monkbarns and others, into a Lordship of Regality 
 in favour of the first Earl of Glengibber, a favourite of James the 
 Sixth. It is subscribed by the King at Westminster, the seventeenth 
 day of January, A.D. one .thousand six hundred and twelve-- 
 thirteen. It's not worth while to repeat the witnesses' names." 
 
 F 2 
 
84 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " I would rather," said Lovel, with awakened curiosity, " I woulij 
 rather hear your opinion of the way in which the deed was 
 discovered." 
 
 "Why, if I wanted a patron for my legend, I could find no less a 
 one than Saint Augustine, who tells the story of a deceased person 
 appearing to his son, when sued for a debt which had been paid, 
 and directing him where to find the discharge.* But I rather 
 opine with Lord Bacon, who says that imagination is much akin to 
 miracle-working faith. There was always some idle story of the 
 room being haunted by the spirit of Aldobrand Oldenbuck, my 
 great-great-great-grandfather — it's a shame to the English language 
 that we have not a less clumsy way of expressing a relationship of 
 which we have occasion to think and speak so frequently. He was 
 a foreigner, and wore his national dress, of which tradition had 
 preserved an accurate description ; and indeed there is a print of 
 him, supposed to be by Reginald Elstracke, pulling the press with 
 his own hand, as it works off the sheets of his scarce edition of the 
 Augsburg Confession. He was a chemist, as well as a good 
 mechanic, and either of these qualities in this country was at that 
 time sufficient to constitute a white witch at least. This super- 
 stitious old writer had heard all this, and probably believed it, and 
 in his sleep the image and idea of my ancestor recalledjthat of his 
 cabinet, which, with the grateful attention to antiquities and the 
 memory of our ancestors hot unusually met with, had been 
 pushed into the pigeon-house to be out of the way — Add a quan- 
 tum sufficit of exaggeration, and you have a key to the whole 
 mystery." 
 
 " O brother ! brother ! But Dr. Heavysterne, brother — ^whose 
 sleep was so sore broken, that he declared he wadna pass another 
 night in the Green Room to get all Monkbarns, so that Mary and 
 I were forced to yield our " 
 
 " Why, Grizel, the doctor is a good, honest, pudding-headed 
 German, of much merit in his own way, but fond of the mystical, 
 like many of his countrymen. You and he had a traffic the whole 
 evening, in which you received tales of Mesmer, Shropfer, Cagli- 
 ostro, and other modern pretenders to the mystery of raising spirits, 
 discovering hidden treasure, and so forth, in exchange for your 
 legends of the green bedchamber; — and considering that the 
 Illustrissimus ate a pound and a half of Scotch coUops to supper, 
 smoked six pipes, and drank ale and brandy in prop6rtion, I am 
 not surprised at his having a fit of the night-mare — But everything 
 is now ready. Permit me to light you to your apartment, Mr. 
 Lovel — I am sure you have need of rest — and I trust my ancestor 
 is too sensible of the duties of hospitality to interfere with the 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 85 
 
 repose which you have so well merited by your manly and gallant 
 behaviour." 
 
 So saying, the Antiquary took up a bedroom candlestick of 
 massive silver and antique form, which, he observed, was wrought 
 out of the silver found in the mines of the Harz mountains, and 
 had been the property of the very personage who had supplied them 
 with a subject of conversation. And having so said, he led the 
 way through many a dusky and winding passage, now ascending, 
 and anon descending again, until he came to the apartment 
 destined for his young guest. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 When midnight o'er the moonless skies 
 Her pall of transient death has spread, 
 When mortals sleep, when spectres rise 
 And none are wakeful but the dead ; 
 No bloodless shape my way pursues. 
 No sheeted ghost my couch annoys. 
 Visions more sad my fancy views, — 
 Visions of long-departed joys. 
 
 W. R. Spenser. 
 
 When they reached the Green Room, as it was called, Oldbuck 
 placed the candle on the toilet-table, before a huge mirror with a 
 black japanned frame, surrounded by dressing-boxes of the same, 
 and looked around him with something of a disturbed expression 
 of countenance. " I am seldom in this apartment," he said, " and 
 never without yielding to a melancholy feeling — not, of course, on 
 account of the childish nonsense that Grizel was telling you, but 
 owing to circumstances of an early and unhappy attachment. It is 
 at such moments as these, Mr. Lovel, that we feel the changes of 
 time. The sanje objects are before us— those inanimate things 
 which we have gazed on in wayward infancy and impetuous youth, 
 in anxious and scheming manhood — they are permanent and the 
 same ; but when we look upon them in cold unfeeling old age, can 
 we, changed in our temper, our pursuits, our feelings — changed in 
 our form, our limbs, and our strength, — can we be ourselves called 
 the same ? or do we not rather look back with a sort of wonder 
 upon our former selves, as beings separate and distinct from 
 what we now are ? The philosopher who appealed from Philip 
 inflamed with wine to Philip in his hours of sobriety, did not 
 choose a judge so different, as if he had appealed from Philip in 
 his youth to Philip in his old age. I cannot but be touched with 
 
86 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 the feeling so beautifully expressed in a poem which I have heard 
 repeated : * 
 
 My eyes are dim with childish tears, 
 
 My heart is idly stirr'd. 
 For the same sound is in my ears 
 
 Which in those days I heard. 
 
 Thus fares it still in our decay ; 
 
 And yet the wiser mind 
 Mourns less for what time takes away. 
 
 Than what he leaves behind. 
 
 Well, time cures eveiy wound, and though the scar may remain 
 and occasionally ache, yet the earliest agony of its recent infliction 
 is felt no more." — So saying, he shook Lovel cordially by the hand, 
 wished him good-night, and took his leave. 
 
 Step after step Lovel could trace his host's retreat along the 
 various passages, and each door which he closed behind him fell 
 with a sound more distant and dead. The guest, thus separated 
 from the living world, took up the candle and surveyed the apart- 
 ment. The fire blazed cheerfully. Mrs. Grizel's attention had left 
 some fresh wood, should he choose to continue it, and the apart- 
 ment had a comfortable, though not a lively appearance. It was 
 hung with tapestry, which the looms of Arras had produced in the 
 sixteenth century, and which the learned typographer, so often 
 mentioned, had brought with him as a sample of the arts of the 
 Continent. The subject was a hunting-piece ; and as the leafy 
 boughs of the forest-trees, branching over the tapestry, formed the 
 predominant colour, the apartment had thence acquired its name 
 of the Green Chamber. Grim figures, in the old Flemish dress, 
 with slashed doublets covered with ribbands, short cloaks, and 
 trunk-hose, were engaged in holding grey-hounds or stag-hounds 
 in the leash, or cheering them upon the objects of their game. 
 Others, with boar-spears, swords, and old-fashioned guns, were 
 attacking stags or boars whom they had brought to bay. The 
 branches of the woven forest were crowded with fowls of various 
 kinds, each depicted with its proper plumage. It seemed as if the 
 proUfic and rich invention of old Chaucer had animated the 
 Flemish artist with its profusion, and Oldbuck had accordingly 
 caused the following verses, from that ancient and excellent poet, 
 to be embroidered in Gothic letters, on a sort of border which he 
 had added to the tapestry: — 
 
 » Lo ! here be oaki? grete, streight as a lime. 
 
 Under the which the grass, so fresh of line, 
 Be'th newly sprung — at eight foot or nine. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 8; 
 
 Everich tree well from his fellow grew, 
 With branches broad laden with leaves new, 
 That sprongen out against the sonne sheene, 
 Some golden red, and some a glad bright green. 
 
 And in another canton was the following similar legend : — 
 
 And many an hart, and many an hind. 
 Was both before me and behind. 
 Of fawns, sownders, bucks, and does 
 Was full the wood,,and many roes. 
 And many squirrells that ysate 
 High on the trees, and nuts ate. 
 
 The bed was of a dark and faded green, wrought to correspond 
 with the tapestry, but by a more modern and less skilful hand. 
 The large and heavy stuff-bottomed chairs, with black ebony 
 backs, were embroidered after the same pattern, and a lofty mirror, 
 over the antique chimney-piece, corresponded in its mounting with 
 that on the old-fashioned toilet. 
 
 " I have heard," muttered Lovel, as he took a cursory view of the 
 room and its furniture, " that ghosts often chose the best room in 
 the mansion to which they attached themselves ; and I cannot dis- 
 approve of the taste of the disembodied printer of the Augsburg 
 Confession." But he found it so difficult to fix his mind upon the 
 stories which had been told him of an apartment with which they 
 seemed so singularly to correspond, that he almost regretted the 
 absence of those agitated feelings, half fear half curiosity, which 
 sympathize with the old legends of awe and wonder, from which 
 the anxious reality of his own hopeless passion at present detached 
 him. For he now only felt emotions like those expressed in the 
 lines, — 
 
 Ah ! cruel maid, how hast thou changed 
 
 The temper of my mind ! 
 My heart by thee from all estranged. 
 
 Becomes like thee unkind. 
 
 He endeavoured to conjure up something like the feelings which 
 would, at another time, have been congenial to his situation, but his 
 heart had no room for these vagaries of imagination. The recol- 
 lection of Miss Wardour, determined not to acknowledge him when 
 compelled to endure his society, and evincing her purpose to 
 escape from it, would have alone occupied his imagination ex- 
 clusively. But with this -jvere united recollections more agitating 
 if less painful, — her hair-breadth escape — the fortunate assistance 
 which he had been able to render her — Yet what was his requital ? 
 — She left the cliff while his fate was yet doubtful, while it was 
 uncertain whether her preserver had not lost the life which he had 
 
88 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 exposed for her so freely. — Surely gratitude, at least, called for 
 some little interest in his fate— But no— she could not be selfish or 
 unjust— it was no part of her nature. She only desired to shut the 
 door against hope, and, even in compassion to him, to extinguish a 
 passion which she could never return. 
 
 But this lover-like mode of reasoning was not likely to reconcile 
 him to his fate, since the more amiable his imagination presented 
 Miss Wardour, the more inconsolable he felt he should be rendered 
 by the extinction of his hopes. He was, indeed, conscious of pos- 
 sessing the power of removing her prejudices on some points ; but, 
 even in extremity, he determined to keep the original determina- 
 tion which he had formed, of ascertaining that she desired an expla- 
 nation, ere he intruded one upon her. And, turn the matter as he 
 would, he could not regard his suit as desperate. There was some- 
 thing of embarrassment as well as of grave surprise in her look 
 when Oldbuck presented him, and, perhaps, upon second thoughts, 
 the one was assumed to cover the other. He would not relinquish 
 a pursuit which had already cost him such pains. Plans, suiting 
 the romantic temper of the brain that entertained them, chased 
 each other through his head, thick and irregular as the motes of 
 the sun-beam, and, long after he had laid himself to rest, con- 
 tinued to prevent the repose which he greatly needed. Then, 
 wearied by the uncertainty and difficulties with which each scheme 
 appeared to be attended, he bent up his mind to the strong effort 
 of shaking off his love, "like dew-drops from the lion's mane," 
 and resuming those studies and that career of life which his un- 
 requited affection had so long and so fruitlessly interrupted. In 
 this last resolution he endeavoured to fortify himself by every 
 argument which pride, as well as reason, could suggest. " She 
 shall not suppose," he said, "that presuming on an accidental 
 service to her or to her father, I am desirous to intrude myself upon 
 that notice, to which, personally, she considered me as having no 
 title. I will see her no more. I will return to the land which, if it 
 affords none fairer, has at least many as fair, and less haughty than 
 Miss Wardour. To-morrow I will bid adieu to these northern 
 shores, and to her who is as cold and relentless as her climate." 
 When he had for some time brooded over this sturdy resolution, 
 exhausted nature at length gave way, and, despite of wrath, doubt, 
 and anxiety, he sunk into slumber. 
 
 It is seldom that sleep, after such violent agitation, is either 
 sound or refreshing. Level's was disturbed by a thousand baseless 
 and confused visions. He was a bird— he was a fish — or he flew 
 like the one, and swam like the other, — qualities v,-hich would have 
 been very essential to his safety a few hours before. Then Miss 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 8g 
 
 Wardour was a syren, or a bird of Paradise ; her father a triton, or 
 a sea-gull ; and Oldbuck alternately a porpoise and a cormorant. 
 These agreeable imaginations were varied by all the usual vagaries 
 of a feverish dream ; the air refused to bear the visionary, the 
 water seemed to burn him — the rocks felt like down-pillows as he 
 was dashed against them — whatever he undertook, failed in some 
 strange and unexpected manner — and whatever attracted his atten- 
 tion, underwent, as he attempted to investigate it, some wild and 
 wonderful metamorphosis, while his mind continued all the while 
 in some degree conscious of the delusion, from which it in vain 
 struggled to free itself by awaking ; — feverish symptoms all, 
 with which those who are haunted by the night-hag whom the 
 learned call Ephialtes, are but too well acquainted. At length 
 these crude phantasmata arranged themselves into something more 
 regular, if indeed the imagination of Lovel, after he awoke (for it 
 was by no means the faculty in which his mind was least rich), did 
 not gradually, insensibly, and unintentionally, arrange in better 
 order the scene, of which his sleep presented, it may be, a. less 
 distinct outline. Or it is possible that his feverish agitation may 
 have assisted him in forming the vision. 
 
 Leaving this discussion to the learned, we will say, that after a 
 succession of wild images, such as we have above described, our 
 hero, for such we must acknowledge him, so far regained a con- 
 sciousness of locality as to remember where he was, and the whole 
 fumittire of the Green Chamber was depicted to his slumbering 
 eye. And here, once more, let me protest, that if there should be 
 so much old-fashioned faith left among this shrewd and sceptical 
 generation, as to suppose that what follows was an impression con- 
 veyed rather by the eye than by the imagination, I do not impugn 
 their doctrine. He was, then, or imagined himself, broad awake 
 in the Green Chamber, gazing upon the flickering and occasional 
 flame which the unconsumed remnants of the fagots sent forth, as, 
 one by one, they fell down upon the red embers, into which the 
 principal part of the boughs to which they belonged had crumbled 
 away. Insensibly the legend of Aldobrand Oldenbuck, and his 
 mysterious visits to the inmates of the chamber, awoke in his mind, 
 and with it, as we often feel in dreams, an anxious and fearful ex- 
 pectation, which seldom fails instantly to summon up before our 
 mind's eye the object of our fear. Brighter sparkles of light flashed 
 from the chimney, with such intense brillancy as to enlighten all 
 the room. The tapestry waved wildly on the wall, till its dusky 
 forms seemed to become animated. The hunters blew their horns 
 — the stag seemed to fly, the boar to resist, and the hounds to 
 assail the one and pursue the other ; the cry of deer, mangled by 
 
go THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 throttling dogs— the shouts of men, and the clatter of horses' hoofs, 
 seemed at once to surround him— while every group pursued, with 
 all the fury of the chase, the employment in which the artist had 
 represented them as engaged. Lovel looked on this strange scene 
 devoid of wonder (which seldom intrudes itself upon the sleeping 
 fancy), but with an anxious sensation of awful fear. At length an 
 individual figure among the tissued huntsmen, as he gazed upon 
 them more fixedly, seemed to leave the arras and to approach the 
 bed of the slumberer. As he drew near, his figure appeared to 
 alter. His bugle-horn became a brazen clasped volume ; his 
 hunting-cap changed to such a furred head-gear as graces the 
 burgomasters of Rembrandt ; his Flemish garb remained, but his 
 features-, no longer agitated with the fury of the chase, were 
 changed to such a state of awful and stem composure, as might 
 best pourtray the first proprietor of Monkbarns, such as he had 
 been described to Lovel by his descendants in the course of the 
 preceding evening. As this metamorphosis took place, the hubbub 
 among the other personages in the arras disappeared from the 
 imagination of the dreamer, which was now exclusively bent on 
 the single figure before him. Lovel strove to interrogate this 
 awful person in the form of exorcism proper for the occasion ; but 
 his tongue, as is usual in frightful dreams, refused its office, and 
 clung, palsied, to the roof of his mouth. Aldobrand held up his 
 finger, as if to impose silence upon the guest who had intruded on 
 his apartment, and began deliberately to unclasp the venerable 
 volume which occupied his left hand. When it was unfolded, he 
 turned over the leaves hastily for a short space, and then raising 
 his figure to its full dimensions, and holding the book aloft in his 
 left hand, pointed to a passage in the page which he thus dis- 
 played. Although the language was unknown to our dreamer, his 
 eye and attention were both strongly caught by the line which the 
 figure seemed thus to press upon his notice, the words of which 
 appeared to blaze with a supernatural light, and remained riveted 
 upon his memory. As the vision shut his volume, a strain of 
 delightful music seemed to fill the apartment — Lovel started, and 
 became completely awake. The music, however, was still in his 
 ears, nor ceased till he could distinctly follow the measure of an 
 old Scottish tune. 
 
 He 'sate up in bed, and endeavoured to clear his brain of the 
 phantoms which had disturbed it during this weary night. The 
 beams of the morning sun streamed through the half-closed 
 shutters, and admitted a distinct light into the apartment. He 
 looked round upon the hangings, but the mixed groups of silken 
 and worsted huntsmen, were as stationary as tenter-hooks could 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. gr 
 
 make them, and only trembled slightly as the early breeze, which 
 found its way through an open crevice of the latticed window, 
 gUded along their surface. Lovel leapt out of bed, and, wrapping 
 himself in a morning-gown, that had been considerately laid by 
 his bedside, stepped towards the window, which commanded a 
 view of the sea, the roar of whose billows announced it still dis- 
 quieted by the storm of the preceding evening, although the 
 morning was fair and serene. The window of a turret, which 
 projected at an angle with the wall, and thus came to be very near 
 Level's apartment, was half open, and from that quarter he heard 
 again the same music which had probably broken short his dream. 
 With its visionary character it had lost much of its charms — it was 
 now nothing more than an air on the harpsichord, tolerably well 
 performed — such is the caprice of imagination as affecting the fine 
 arts* A female voice sung, with some taste and great simplicity, 
 something between a song and a hymn, in words to the following 
 effect : — 
 
 " Why sit'st thou by that ruin'd hall, 
 Thou aged carle so stern and grey ? 
 Dost thou its former pride recall. 
 Or ponder how it pass'd away ?" 
 
 " Know'st thou not me!" the Deep Voice cried, 
 " So long enjoy'd, so oft misus'd — 
 Alternate, in thy fickle pride, 
 
 Desired, neglected, and accused ? 
 
 " Before my breath, like blazing flax, 
 Man and his marvels pass away ; 
 And changing empires wane and wax, 
 Are founded, flourish, and decay. 
 
 " Redeem mine hours — the space is brief — 
 While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, 
 And measureless thy joy or grief. 
 
 When Time and thou shall part for ever !" 
 
 While the verses were yet singing, Lovel had returned to his 
 bed ; the train of ideas which they awakened was romantic and 
 pleasing, such as his soul delighted in, and, willingly adjourning, 
 till more broad day, the doubtful task of determining on his future 
 line of conduct, he abandoned himself to the pleasing langour in- 
 spired by the music, and fell into a sound and refreshing sleep, 
 from which he was only awakened at a late hour by old Caxon, 
 who came creeping into the room to render the offices of a valet- 
 de-chambre. 
 
 " I h^ve brushed your coat, sir," said the old man, when he per, 
 ceived Lovel was awake ; " the callant brought it frae Fairport 
 
92 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 this morning, for that ye had on yesterday is scantly feasibly dry, 
 though it's been a' nicht at the kitchen fire— and I hae cleaned 
 your shoon— I doubt ye'U no be wanting me to tie your hair, for" 
 (with a gentle sigh) " a' the young gentlemen wear crops now — ^but 
 I hae the curling-tangs here to gie it a bit turn ower the brow, if 
 ye like, before ye gae down to the leddies." 
 
 Lovel, who was by this time once more on his legs, declined the 
 old man's professional offices, but accompanied the refusal with 
 such a douceur as completely sweetened Caxon's mortification. 
 
 " It's a pity he disna get his hair tied and pouthered," said the 
 ancient frizeur, when he had got once more into the kitchen, in 
 which, on one pretence or other, he spent three parts of his idle 
 time — that is to say, of his whole time — " it's a great pity, for he's 
 a comely young gentleman." 
 
 " Hout awa, ye auld gowk," said Jenny Rintherout, " would ye 
 creesh his bonny brown hair wi' your nasty ulyie, and then moust 
 it like the auld minister's wig ? — Ye'U be for your breakfast, I'se 
 warrant ? — ^hae, there's a soup parritch for ye — it will set ye better 
 to be slaistering at them and the lapper-milk than middling wi' 
 Mr. Lovel's head — ye wad spoil the maist natural and beautifaest 
 head o' hair in a' Fairport, baith burgh and county." 
 
 The poor barber sighed over the disrespect into which his art 
 had so universally fallen, but Jenny was a person too important to 
 offend by contradiction ; so sitting quietly down in the kitchen, he 
 digested at once his humiliation, and the contents of a bicker which 
 held a Scotch pint of substantial oatmeal porridge. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Sometimes he thinks that Heaven this pageant sent, 
 And order'd all the pageants as they went ; 
 Sometimes that only 'twas wild Fancy's play, — 
 The loose and scatter'd relics of the day. 
 
 We must now request our readers to adjourn to the breakfast- 
 parlour of Mr. Oldbuck, who, despising the modern slops of tea 
 and coffee, was substantially regaling himself, more majorum, with 
 cold roast-beef, and a glass of a sort of beverage called mum, a 
 species of fat ale, brewed from whear and bitter herbs, of which 
 the present generation only know the name by its occurrence in 
 revenue acts of parliament, coupled with cider, perry, and other 
 excisable commodities. Lovel, who was seduced to taste it, with 
 difficulty refrained from pronouncing it detestable, but did refrain. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 93 
 
 as he saw he should otherwise give great offence to his host, who 
 had the hquor annually prepared with peculiar care, according to 
 the approved recipe bequeathed to him by the so-often mentioned 
 Aldobrand Oldenbuck. The hospitality of the ladies offered Lovel 
 a breakfast more suited to modern taste, and while he was engaged 
 in partaking of it, he was assailed by indirect inquiries concerning 
 the manner in which he had passed the night. 
 
 "We canna compliment Mr. Lovel on his looks this morning, 
 brother — but he winna condescend on ony ground of disturbance 
 he has had in the night time. I am certain he looks very pale, 
 and when he came here, he was as fresh as a rose." 
 
 "Why, sister, consider this rose of yours has been knocked 
 about by sea and wind all yesterday evening, as if he had been a 
 bunch of kelp or tangle, and how the devil would you have him 
 retain his colour?" 
 
 " I certainly do still feel somewhat fatigued," said Lovel, " not- 
 withstanding the excellent accommodations with which your hospi- 
 tality so amply supplied me." 
 
 " Ah, sir '." said Miss Oldbuck, looking at him with a knowing 
 smile, or what was meant to be one, " ye'll not allow of ony incon- 
 venience, out of civility to us." 
 
 " Really, madam," replied Lovel, " I had no disturbance ; for I 
 cannot term such the music with which some kind fairy favoured 
 me." 
 
 " I doubted Mary wad waken you wi' her skreighing ; she didna 
 ken I had left open a. chink of your window, for, forbye the ghaist, 
 the Green Room disna vent weel in a high wind — But I am judging 
 ye heard mair than Mary's lilts yestreen — ^weel, men are hardy 
 creatures, they can gae through wi' a' thing. I am sure, had I 
 been to undergo ony thing of that nature, — that's to say that's 
 beyond nature — I would hae skreigh'd out at ance, and raised the 
 house, be the consequence what liket — and, I dare say, the minister 
 wad hae done as mickle, and sae I hae tauld him, — I ken naebody 
 but my brother, Monkbarns himsell, wad gae through the like o't, 
 if, indeed, it binna you, Mr. Lovel." 
 
 " A man of Mr. Oldbuck's learning, madam,'' answered the ques- 
 tioned party, " would not be exposed to the inconvenience sustained 
 by the Highland gentleman you mentioned last night." 
 
 "Ay! ay! ye understand now where the difficulty lies — language? 
 he has ways o' Jiis ain wad banish a' thae sort o' worricows as far 
 as the hindermost parts of Gideon" (meaning possibly Midian), 
 " as Mr. Blattergowl says — only ane wadna be uncivil to ane's 
 forbear, though he be a ghaist — I am sure I will try that receipt of 
 yours, brother, that ye showed me in a book, if onybody is to sleep 
 
94 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 in that room again, though I think, in Christian charity, ye should 
 rather 'fit up the matted-room— it's a wee damp and dark, to be 
 sure, but then we hae sae seldom occasion for a spare bed." 
 
 " No, no, sister ; dampness and darkness are worse than spectres 
 — ours are spirits of light — and I would rather have you try the 
 spell." 
 
 " I will do that blythely, Monkbams, an I had the ingredients, 
 as my cookery book ca's them — There was vervain and dill — I 
 mind that — Davie Dibble will ken about them, though, maybe, 
 he'll gie them Latin names — and peppercorn, we hae walth o' them, 
 for" 
 
 " Hypericon, thou foolish woman ! " thundered Oldbuck ; " d'ye 
 suppose you're making a haggis — or do you think that a spirit, 
 though he be formed of air, can be expelled by a receipt against 
 wind ? — This wise Grizel of mine, Mr. Lovel, recollects (with what 
 accuracy you may judge) a charm which I once mentioned to her, 
 and which, happening to hit her superstitious noddle, she remem- 
 bers better than anything tending to a useful purpose I may chance 
 to have said for this ten years. But many an old woman besides 
 herself" 
 
 "Auld woman, Monkbarns !" said Miss Oldbuck, roused some- 
 thing above her usual submissive tone ; " ye really are less than 
 civil to me." 
 
 " Not less than just, Grizel : however, I include in the same class 
 many a, sounding name, from Jamblichus down to Aubrey, who 
 have wasted their time in devising imaginary remedies for non- 
 existing diseases. — But I hope, my young friend, that, charmed or 
 uncharmed — secured by the potency of Hypericon, 
 
 With vervain and with dill. 
 That hinder witches of their will, 
 
 or left disarmed and defenceless to the inroads of the invisible 
 world, you will give another night to the terrors of the haunted 
 apartment, and another day to your faithful and feal friends." 
 
 " I heartily wish I could, but " 
 
 " Nay, but me no buts — I have set my heart upon it." 
 
 " I am greatly obliged, my dear sir, but " — — 
 
 " Look ye there, now— but again ! — I hate btit; I know no form 
 of expression in which he can appear, that is amiable, excepting as 
 a butt of sack, but is to me a more detestable combination of letters 
 than no itself. No is a surly, honest fellow, speaks his mind rough 
 and round at once. But is a sneaking, evasive, half-bred, 
 exceptions sort of a conjunction, which comes to pull away the cup 
 just when it is at your lips — 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. §5 
 
 ■ it does allay 
 
 The good precedent — fie upon but yet I 
 But yet is as a jailor to bring forth 
 Some monstrous malefactor." 
 
 "Well, then," answered Lovel, whose motions were really un- 
 determined at the moment, " you shall not connect the recollection 
 of my name with so churlish a particle — I must soon think of 
 leaving Fairport, I am afraid — and I will, since you are good 
 enough to wish it, take this opportunity of spending another day 
 here." 
 
 " And you shall be rewarded, my boy — First, you shall see John 
 o' the Girnel's grave, and then we'll walk gently along the sands, 
 the state of the tide being first ascertained (for we will have no 
 more Peter Wilkins' adventures, no more Glum and Gawrie work), 
 as far as Knockwinnock Castle, and inquire after the old knight 
 and my fair foe — which will but be barely civil, and then" 
 
 " I beg pardon, my dear sir ; but, perhaps, you had better adjourn 
 your visit till to-morrow — I am a stranger, you know." 
 
 " And are, therefore, the more bound to show civility, I should 
 suppose — But I beg your pardon for mentioning a word that 
 perhaps belongs only to a collector of antiquities — I am one of the 
 old school. 
 
 When courtiers gallop'd o'er four counties 
 The ball's fair partner to behold. 
 And humbly hope she caught no cold." 
 
 " Why, if — if —if you thought it would be expected — but I believe 
 I had better stay." 
 
 " Nay, nay, my good friend, I am not so old-fashioned as to 
 press you to what is disagreeable, neither — it is sufficient that I see 
 there is some remora, some cause of delay, some mid impediment, 
 which I have no title to inquire into. — Or you are stiU somewhat 
 tired, perhaps ; — I warrant I find means to entertain your intellects 
 without fatiguing your limbs — I am no friend to violent exertion 
 myself — a walk in the garden once a-day is exercise enough for any 
 thinking being — none but a fool or a fox-hunter would require 
 more. — Well, what shall we set about ? — my Essay on Castrame ■ 
 tation — ^but I have that in ;petto for our afternoon cordial ; — or I 
 will show you the controversy upon Ossian's Poems between Mac- 
 Cribb and me. — I hold with the acute Orcadian — he with the 
 defenders of the authenticity ; — the controversy began in smooth, 
 oily, lady-like terms, but is now waxing more sour and eager as we 
 get on — it already partakes somewhat of old Scaliger's style. — I 
 fear the rogue will get some scent of that story of Ochiltree's — ^but 
 
96 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 at worst, I have a hard repartee for him on the affair of the 
 abstracted Antigonus — I will show you his last epistle, and the 
 scroll of my answer — egad, it is a trimmer ! " 
 
 So saying, the Antiquary opened a drawer, and began rumma- 
 ging among a quantity of miscellaneous papers, ancient and 
 modern. But it was the misfortune of this learned gentleman, as 
 it may be that of many learned and unlearned, that he frequently 
 experienced, on such occasions, what Harlequin calls Vembarras 
 des richesses—m other words, the abundance of his collection often 
 prevented him from finding the article he sought for. " Curse the 
 papers ! — I believe," said Oldbuck, as he shufHed them to and fro 
 — " I believe they make themselves wings like grasshoppers^^ and 
 fly away bodily — ^but here, in the meanwhile, look at that little 
 treasure." So saying, he put into his hand a case made of oak, 
 fenced at the corner with silver roses and studs — " Pr'ythee, undo 
 this button," said he, as he observed Lovel fumbling at the clasp ; 
 — He did so, the lid opened, and discovered a thin quarto, curiously 
 bound in black shagreen — " There, Mr. Lovel — ^there is the work I 
 mentioned to you last night — the rare quarto of the Augsburg 
 Confession, the foundation at once and the bulwark of the Refor- 
 mation, drawn up by the learned and venerable Melancthon, 
 defended by the Elector of Saxony, and the other valiant hearts 
 who stood up for their faith, even against the front of a powerful 
 and victorious emperor, and imprinted by the scarcely less 
 venerable and praiseworthy Aldobrand Oldenbuck, my happy 
 progenitor, during the yet more tyrannical attempts of Philip II. to 
 suppress at once civil and religious liberty. Yes, sir — for printing 
 this work, that eminent man was expelled from his ungrateful 
 country, and driven to establish his household gods even here at 
 Monkbarns, among the ruins of papal superstition and domination. 
 Look upon his venerable effigies, Mr. Lovel, and respect the 
 honourable occupation in which it presents him, as labouring 
 personally at the press for the diffusion of Christian and political 
 knowledge. — And see here his favourite motto, expressive of his 
 independence and self-reliance, which scorned to owe anything to 
 patronage that was not earned by desert — expressive also of that 
 firmness of mind and tenacity of purpose recommended by Horace. 
 He was indeed a man who would have stood firm, had his whole 
 printing-house, presses, fonts, forms, great and small pica, been 
 shivered to pieces around him — Read, I say, his motto, — for each 
 printer had his motto, or device, when that illustrious art was first 
 practised. My ancestor's was expressed, as you see, in the 
 Teutonic phrase, KUNST macht Gunst— that is, skill, or prudence, 
 in availing ourselves of our natural talents and advantages, will 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 97 
 
 compel favour and patronage, even where it is withheld from 
 prejudice or ignorance." 
 
 " And that," said Lovel, after a moment's thoughtful silence, 
 " that, then, is the meaning of these German words ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably — you perceive the appropriate application to 
 a consciousness of inward worth, and of eminence in an useful and 
 honourable art. Each printer in those days, as I have already 
 informed you, had his device, his impresa, as I may call it, in 
 the same manner as the doughty chivalry of the age, who 
 frequented tilt and tournament. My ancestor boasted as much 
 in his, as if he had displayed it over a conquered field of 
 battle, though / it betokened the diffusion of knowledge, not the 
 effusion of blood. And yet there is a family tradition which 
 affirms him to have chosen it from a more romantic circum- 
 stance." 
 
 " And what is that said to have been, my good sir ? " inquired his 
 young friend. 
 
 " Why, it rather encroaches on my respected predecessor's fame 
 for prudence and wisdom — Sed semel insanimmus omnes — every- 
 body has played the fool in their turn. It is said, my ancestor, 
 during his apprenticeship with the descendant of old Fust, whom 
 popular tradition hath sent to the devil under the name of Faustus, 
 was attracted by a paltry slip of womankind, his master's daughter, 
 called Bertha. — They broke rings, or went through some idiotical 
 ceremony, as is usual on such idle occasions as the plighting of a 
 true-love troth, and Aldobrand set out on his journey through 
 Germany, as became an honest hand-werker ; for such was the 
 custom of mechanics at that time, to rnake a. tour through the 
 empire, and work at their trade for a time in each of the most 
 eminent towns, before they finally settled themselves for life. It 
 was a wise custom ; for, as such travellers were received like 
 brethren in each town by those of their own handicraft, they were 
 sure, in every case, to have the means either of gaining or commu- 
 nicating knowledge. When my ancestor returned to Nuremburg, 
 he is said to have found his old master newly dead, and two or 
 three gallant young suitors, some of them half-starved sprigs of 
 nobility -forsooth, in pursuit of the Yung-fraw Bertha, whose father 
 was understood to have bequeathed her a dowry which might 
 weigh against sixteen armorial quarters. But Bertha, not a bad 
 sample of womankind, had made a vow she would only marry that 
 man who could work her father's press. The skill, at that time, 
 was as rare as wonderful ; besides that the expedient rid her at 
 once of most of her gentle suitors, who would have as soon wielded 
 a conjuring wand as a composing stick — some of the more 
 
 o 
 
98 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 ordinary typographers made the attempt ; but none were sufficiently 
 possessed of the mystery. — But I tire you." 
 
 " By no means ; pray, proceed, Mr. Oldbuck ; I listen with 
 uncommon interest." 
 
 " Ah ! it is all folly — however — ^Aldobrand arrived in the ordinary 
 dress, as we would say, of a journeyman printer — the same with 
 which he had traversed Germany, and conversed with Luther, 
 Melancthon, Erasmus, and other learned men, who disdained not 
 his knowledge, and the power he possessed of diffusing it, though 
 hid under a garb so homely. But what appeared respectable in the 
 eyes of wisdom, religion, learning, and philosophy, seemed mean, 
 as might readily be supposed, and disgusting, in those of silly and 
 affected woman-kind, and Bertha refused to acknowledge her 
 former lover, in the torn doublet, skin cap, clouted shoes, and 
 leathern apron, of a traveUing handicraftsman or mechanic. He 
 claimed his privilege, however, of being admitted to a trial ; and 
 when the rest of the suitors had either declined the contest, or 
 made such work as the devil could not read if his pardon depended 
 on it, all eyes were bent on the stranger. Aldobrand stepped 
 gracefully forward, arranged the types without omission of a single 
 letter, hyphen, or comma, imposed them without deranging a single 
 space, and pulled off the first proof as clear and free from errors, 
 as if it had been a» triple revise ! All applauded the worthy 
 successor of the immortal Faustus — the blushing maiden acknow- 
 ledged her error in trusting to the eye more than the intellect, and 
 the elected bridegroom thenceforward chose for his impress or 
 device the appropriate words, ' Skill wins favour! — But what is 
 the matter with you ? — you are in a brown study .' — Come, I told 
 you this was but trumpery conversation for thinking people— and 
 now I have my hand on the Ossianic controversy." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said Lovel ; " I am going to appear very 
 silly and changeable in your eyes, Mr. Oldbuck, but you seemed to 
 think Sir Arthur might in civility expect a call from me ? " 
 
 " Psha ! psha ! I can make your apology ; and if you must leave 
 us so soon as you say, what signifies how you stand in his honour's 
 good graces ? — And I warn you that the Essay on Castrametation 
 is something prolix, and will occupy the time we can spare after 
 dinner, so you may lose the Ossianic Controversy if we do not 
 dedicate this morning to it — ^we will go out to my ever-green bower, 
 my sacred holly-tree yonder, and have xXfronde super viridi. 
 
 ' Sing hey-ho ! hey-ho ! for the g;:een holly. 
 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.' 
 
 But, egad," continued the old gentleman, " when I look closer at 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 99 
 
 you, I begin to think you may be of a different opinion. Amen, 
 with all my heart — I quarrel with no man's hobby, if he does not 
 run it a tilt against mine, and if he does — let him beware his eyes. 
 — What say you ? — in the language of the world and worldlings 
 base, if you can condescend to so mean a sphere, shall we stay or 
 
 go?" 
 
 " In the language of selfishness, then, which is of course the 
 language of the world — let us go by all means." 
 
 " Amen, amen, quo' the Earl Marshall," answered Oldbuck, as 
 he exchanged his slippers for a pair of stout walking shoes, with 
 cutikins, as he called them, of black cloth. He only interrupted 
 the walk by a slight deviation to the tomb of John o' the Girnel, 
 remembered as the last bailiff of the abbey who had resided at 
 Monkbarns. Beneath an old oak-tree upon a hillock, sloping 
 pleasantly to the south, and catching a distant view of the sea over 
 two or three rich enclosures, and the Musselcrag, lay a moss- 
 grown stone, and, in memory of the departed worthy, it bore an 
 inscription, of which, as Mr. Oldbuck affirmed (though many 
 doubted) the defaced characters could be distinctly traced to the 
 following effect ; — 
 
 Heir lyeth John o' ye Girnell ; 
 
 Erth has ye nit, and heuen ye kirnell. 
 
 In hys tyme ilk wyfe's hennis clokit, 
 
 Ilka gud mannis herth wi' bairnis was stokit, 
 
 He deled a boll o' bear in firlottis fyve. 
 
 Four for ye halie kirke and ane for puir mennis wyvis. 
 
 " You see how modest the author of this sepulchral commen- 
 dation was ; — ^he tells us that honest John could make five firlots, 
 or quarters, as you would say, out of the boll, instead of four,^ — 
 that he gave the fifth to the wives of the parish, and accounted for 
 the other four to the abbot and chapter — that in his time the wives' 
 hens always laid eggs, and devil thank them, if they got one-fifth 
 of the abbey rents ; and that honest men's hearths were never un- 
 blest with offspring — an addition to the miracle, which they, as well 
 as I, must have considered as perfectly unaccountable. But come 
 on — ^leave we Jock o' the Girnel, and let us jog on to the yellow 
 sands, where the sea, like a repulsed enemy, is now retreating from 
 the ground on which he gave us battle last night." 
 
 Thus saying, he led the way to the sands. Upon the links or 
 downs close to them, were seen four or five huts inhabited by 
 fishers, whose boats, drawn high upon the beach, lent the odori- 
 ferous vapours of pitch melting under a burning sun, to contend 
 ■ with those of the. offals of fish and other nuisances usually collected 
 
100 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 round Scottish cottages. Undisturbed by these complicated 
 steams of abomination, a middle-aged woman, with a face which had 
 defied a thousand storms, sat mending a net at the door of one of 
 the cottages. A handkerchief close bound about her head, and a 
 coat which had formerly been that of a man, gave her a masculine 
 air, which was increased by her strength, uncommon stature, and 
 harsh voice. " What are ye for the day, your honour ? " she said, 
 or rather screamed, to Oldbuck ; " caller haddocks and whitings — 
 a bannock-fluke and a cock-padle." 
 
 "How much for the bannock-fluke and cock-padle?" demanded 
 the Antiquary. 
 
 " Four white shillings and saxpence," answered the Naiad. 
 
 " Four devils and six of their imps ! " retorted the Antiquary ; 
 " do ye think I am mad, Maggie ? " 
 
 " And div ye think," rejoined the virago, setting her arms 
 a-kimbo, " that my man and my sons are to gae to the sea in 
 weather like yestreen and the day — sic a sea as it's yet outby — and 
 get naething for their fish, and be misca'd into the bargain. Monk- 
 bams ? It's no fish ye're buying — it's men's lives." - , 
 
 " Well, Maggie, I'll bid you fair— I'll bid you a shilling for the 
 fluke and the cock-padle, or sixpence separately — and if all your 
 fish are as well paid, I think your man, as you call him, and your 
 sons, will make a good voyage." 
 
 " Deil gin their boat were knockit against the Bell Rock rather ! 
 it wad be better, and the bonnier voyage o' the twa. A shilling for 
 thae twa bonny fish ! Od, that's ane indeed ! " 
 
 " Well, well, you old beldam, carry your fish up to Monkbarns, 
 and see what my sister will give you for them." 
 
 " Na, na, Monkbarns, deil a fit — I'll rather deal wi' yoursell ; for 
 though you're near eneugh, yet Miss Grizel has an unco close grip 
 — I'll gie ye them " (in a softened tone) " for three-and-saxpence." 
 
 " Eighteenpence, or nothing ! " 
 
 " Eighteen-pence ! ! ! " (in a loud tone of astonishpient, which 
 declined into a sort of rueful whine, when the dealer turned as if to 
 walk away) — " Ye'll no be for the fish then ? " — (then louder, as she 
 saw him moving off)—" I'll gie them— and— and— and a half-a- 
 dozen o' partans to make the sauce, for three shillings and a dram." 
 
 " Half-a-crown then, Maggie, and a dram." 
 
 " Aweel, your honour man hae't your ain gate, nae doubt ; but a 
 dram's worth siller now — the distilleries is no working." 
 
 "And I hope they'll never work again in my time," said 
 Oldbuck. 
 
 " Ay, ay — it's easy for your honour, and the like o' you gentle- 
 folks, to say sae, that hae stouth and routh, and fire and fending, 
 
w, ii'"^^:. 
 
 Ns 
 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. loi 
 
 and meat and claith, and sit dry and canny by the fireside — but an 
 ye wanted fire, and meat, and dry claise, and were deeing o' cauld, 
 and had a sair heart, whilk is warst ava', wi' just tippence in your 
 pouch, wadna ye be glad to buy a dram wi't, to be eilding and 
 claise, and a supper and heart's ease into the bargain, till the 
 morn's morning ? " 
 
 " It's even too true an apology, Maggie. Is your goodman off to 
 sea this morning, after his exertions last night ? " 
 
 "In troth is he, Monkbarns ; he was awa this morning by four 
 o'clock, when the sea was working like barm wi' yestreen's wind, 
 and our bit coble dancing in't like a cork." 
 
 " Well, he's an industrious fellow. Carry the fish up to Monk- 
 barns." 
 
 " That I wiU— or I'll send little Jenny, she'll rin faster ; but I'll 
 ca' on Miss Grizy for the dram my sell, and say ye sent me." 
 
 A nondescript animal, which might have passed for a mermaid, 
 as it was paddling in a pool among the rocks, was summoned 
 ashore by the shrill screams of its dam ; and having been "made 
 decent, as her mother called it, which was performed by adding a 
 short red cloak to a petticoat, which was at first her sole covering, 
 and which reached scantly below her knee, the child was dismissed 
 with the fish in a basket, and a request on the part of Monkbarns, 
 that they might be prepared for dinner. " It would have been 
 long," said Oldbuck, with much self-complacency, " ere my woman- 
 kind could have made such a reasonable bargain with that old 
 skinflint, though they sometimes wrangle with her for an hour 
 together under my study window, like three sea-gulls screaming 
 and sputtering in a gale of wind. But come, wend w? on our way 
 to Knockwinnock." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Beggar ? — the only freeman of your commonwealth, 
 Free above Scot-free, that observe no laws. 
 Obey no governor, use no religion 
 But what they draw from their own ancient custom, 
 Or constitute themselves, yet they are no rebels. 
 
 Brome. 
 
 WitSi our readers' permission, we will outstep the slow, though 
 sturdy pace of the Antiquary, whose halts, as he turned round to 
 his companion at every moment to point out something remarkable 
 in the landscape, or to enforce some favourite topic more em- 
 phatically than the exercise of walking permitted, delayed their 
 progress considerably. 
 
102 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Notwithstanding the fatigues and dangers of the preceding 
 evening, Miss Wardour was able to rise at her usual hour, and to 
 apply herself to her usual occupations, after she had first satisfied 
 her anxiety concerning her father's state of health. Sir Arthur was 
 no farther indisposed than by the effects of great agitation and un- 
 usual fatigue, but these were sufficient to induce him to keep his 
 bedchamber. 
 
 To look back on the events of the preceding day, was, to 
 Isabella, a very unpleasing retrospect. She owed her life, and that 
 of her father, to the very person by whom, of all others, she wished 
 least to be obliged, because she could hardly even express comriion 
 gratitude towards him without encouraging hopes which might be 
 injurious to them both. " Why should it be my fate to receive 
 such benefits, and conferred at so much personal risk, from one 
 whose romantic passion I have so unceasingly laboured to dis- 
 courage ? Why should chance have given him this advantage over 
 me ? and why, oh why, should a. half-subdued feeling in my own 
 bosom, in spite of my sober reason, almost rejoice that he has 
 attained it?" 
 
 While Miss Wardour thus taxed herself with wayward caprice, 
 she beheld advancing down the avenue, not her younger and more 
 dreaded preserver, but the old beggar who had made such a capital 
 figure in the melodrama of the preceding evening. 
 
 She rang the bell for her maid-servant. " Bring the old man up- 
 stairs." 
 
 The servant returned in a minute or two — " He will come up at 
 no rate, madam ; — he says his clouted shoes never were on a carpet 
 in his life, and that, please God, they never shall. — Must I take him 
 into the servants' hall ? " 
 
 " No ; stay, I want to speak with him — Where is he ? " for she 
 had lost sight of him as he approached the house. 
 
 " Sitting in the sun on the stone-bench in the court, beside the 
 window of the flagged parlour." 
 
 " Bid him stay there — I'll come, down to the parlour, and speak 
 with him at the window." 
 
 She came down accordingly, and found the mendicant half- 
 seated, half-reclining, upon the bench beside the window. Edie- 
 Ochiltree, old man and beggar as he was, had apparently some 
 internal consciousness of the favourable impressions connected 
 with his tall form, commanding features, and long white beard and 
 hair. It used to be remarked of him, that he was seldom seen but 
 in a posture which showed these personal attributes to advantage. 
 At present, as he lay half-reclined, with his wrinkled yet ruddy 
 cheek, and keen grey eye turned up towards the' sky, his staff and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 103 
 
 bag laid beside him, and a cast of homely wisdom and sarcastic 
 irony in the expression of his countenance, while he gazed for a 
 moment around the court-yard, and then resumed his former look 
 upward, he might have been taken by an artist as the model of an 
 old philosopher of the Cynic school, musing upon the frivolity of 
 mortal pursuits, and the precarious tenure of human possessions, 
 and looking up to the source from which aught permanently good 
 can alone be derived. The young lady, as she presented her tall 
 and elegant figure at the open window, but divided from the court-' 
 yard by a grating, with which, according to the fashion of ancient 
 times, the lower windows of the castle were secured, gave an 
 interest of a different kind, and might be supposed, by a romantic 
 imagination, an imprisoned damsel communicating a tale of her 
 durance to a palmer, in order that he might call upon the gallantry 
 of every knight whom he should meet in his wanderings, to rescue 
 her from her oppressive thraldom. 
 
 After Miss Wardour had offered, in the terms she thought would 
 be most acceptable, those thanks which the beggar declined as far 
 beyond his merit, she began to express herself in a manner which 
 she supposed would speak more feelingly to his apprehension. 
 " She did not know," she said, " what her father intended particu- 
 larly to do for their preserver, but certainly it would be something 
 that would make him easy for life ; if he chose to reside at the 
 castle, she would give orders" 
 
 The old man smiled, and shook his head. " I wad be baith a 
 grievance and a disgrace to your fine servants, my leddy, and I 
 have never been a disgrace to onybody yet, that I ken of." 
 
 " Sir Arthur would give strict orders " 
 
 " Ye're very kind — I doubtna, I doubtna ; but there are some 
 things a master can command, and some he canna— I daresay he 
 wad gar them keep hands aff me — (and troth, I think they wad 
 hardly venture on that ony gate) — and he wad gar them gie me my 
 soup parritch and bit meat — But trow ye that Sir Arthur's com- 
 mand could forbid the gibe o' the tongue or the blink o' the ee, or 
 gar them gie me my food wi' the look o' kindness that gars it digest 
 sae weel, or that he could make them forbear a' the slights and 
 taunts that hurt ane's spirit mair nor downright misca'ing? — 
 Besides, I am the idlest auld carle that ever lived ; I downa be 
 bound down to hours o' eating and sleeping ; and, to spea;k the 
 honest truth, I wad be a very bad example in ony weel-regulated 
 family." 
 
 "Well then, Edie, what do you think of a neat cottage and 
 a garden, and a daily dole, and nothing to do but to dig a little in 
 your garden when you pleased yourself ? " 
 
104 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " And how often wad that be, trow ye, my leddy ? Maybe no 
 ance atween Candlemas and Yule — and if a' thing were done to my 
 hand, as if I was Sir Arthur himsell, I could never bide the staying 
 still in ae place, and just seeing the same joists and couples aboon 
 my head night after night. — ^And then I have a queer humour o' my 
 ain, that sets a strolling beggar weel eneugh, whase word naebody 
 minds — but ye ken Sir Arthur has odd sort o' ways — and I wad 
 be jesting or scorning at them — and ye wad be angry, and then 
 I wad be just fit to hang mysell." 
 
 " O, you are a licensed man," said Isabella ; " we shall give you 
 all reasonable scope : So you had better be ruled, and remember 
 your age." 
 
 " But I am no that sair failed yet," replied the mendicant. " Od, 
 ance I gat a wee soupled yestreen, I was as yauld as an eel — And 
 then what wad a' the country about do for want o' auld Edie 
 Ochiltree, that brings news and country cracks frae ae farm- 
 steading to anither, and gingebread to the lasses, and helps the lads 
 to mend their fiddles, and the gudewives to clout their pans, and 
 plaits rush-swords and grenadier caps for the weans, and busks the 
 laird's flees, and has skill o' cow-ills and horse-ills, and kens mair 
 auld sangs and tales than a' the barony besides, and gars ilka body 
 laugh wherever he comes ? — troth, my leddy, I canna lay doun my 
 vocation ; it would be a public loss." 
 
 " Well, Edie, if your idea of your importance is so strong as not 
 to be shaken by the prospect of independence " 
 
 " Na, na. Miss — it's because I am mair independent as I iam," 
 answered the old man ; " I beg nae mair at ony single house than a 
 meal o' meat, or maybe but a mouthfou o't — if it's refused at ae 
 place, I get it at anither — sae I canna be said to depend on onybody 
 in particular, but jugt on the country at large." 
 
 " Well, then, only promise me that you will let me know should 
 you ever wish to settle as you turn old, and more incapable o* 
 making your usual rounds ; and, in the meantime, take this." 
 
 " Na, na, my leddy ; I downa take muckle siller^at anes, it's 
 against our rule — and — though it's maybe no civil to be repeating 
 the like o' that — they say that siller^s like to be scarce wi' Sir 
 Arthur himsell, and that he's run himsell out o' thought wi' his 
 hoiikings and minings for lead and copper yonder." 
 
 Isabella had some anxious anticipations to the same effect, but 
 was shocked to hear that her father's embarrassments were such 
 public talk ; as if scandal ever failed to stoop upon so acceptable a 
 quarry as the failings of the good man, the decline of the powerful, 
 or the decay of the prosperous. — Miss Wardour sighed deeply — 
 " Well, Edie, we have enough to pay our debts, let folks say what 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 10$ 
 
 they will, and requiting you is one of the foremost — let me press 
 this sum upon you." 
 
 " That I might be robbed and murdered some night between town 
 and town ? or, what's as bad, that I might live in constant appre- 
 hension o't? — I am no" — (lowering his voice to a whisper,, and 
 looking keenly around him) — " I am no that clean unprovided for 
 neither ; and though I should die at the back of a dike, they'll find 
 as muckle quilted in this auld blue gown as will bury me like a 
 Christian, and gie the lads and lasses a blythe lykewake too ; sae 
 there's the gaberlunzie's burial provided for, and I need nae mair — 
 Were the like o' me ever to change a note, wha the deil d'ye think 
 wad be sic fules as to gie me charity after that ? — it wad flee through 
 the country like wild-fire, that auld Edie suld hae done siccan a 
 like thing, and then, I'se warrant, I might grane my heart out or 
 onybody wad gie me either a bane or a bodle." 
 
 " Is there nothing, then, that I can do for you ?" 
 
 " Ou ay — I'll aye come for my awmous as usual, — and whiles I 
 wad be fain o' a pickle sneeshin, and ye maun speak to the con- 
 stable and ground-officer just to owerlook me ; and maybe ye'U gie 
 a gude word for me to Sandie Netherstanes, the miller, that he may 
 chain up his muckle dog — I wadna hae him to hurt the puir beast, 
 for it jusit does its office in barking at a gaberlunzie like me — And 
 there's ae thing may be mair, but ye'U think it's very bauld o' the 
 like o' me to speak o't." 
 
 " What is it, Edie ?— if it respects you, it shall be done if it is in 
 my power." 
 
 " It respects yoursell, and it is in your power, and I maun come 
 out wi't. — Ye are a bonny young leddy, and a gude ane, and maybe 
 a weel-tochered ane — but dinna ye sneer awa the lad Lovel as ye 
 did a while sinsyne on the walk beneath the Brierybank, when I 
 saw ye baith, and heard ye too, though ye saw nae me. Be canny 
 wi' the lad, for he loes ye weel, and it's to him, and no to onything 
 I could hae done for you, that Sir Arthur and you wan ower 
 yestreen." 
 
 He uttered these words in a low but distinct tone of voice ; and 
 without waiting for an answer, walked towards a low door, which led 
 to the apartments of the servants, and so entered the house. 
 
 Miss Wardour remaiiied for a moment or two in the situation in 
 which she had heard the old man's last extraordinary speech,' lean- 
 ing, namely, against the bars of the window ; nor could she deter- 
 mine upon saying even a single word, relative to a subject so 
 delicate, until the beggar was out of sight. It was, indeed, difficult 
 to determine what to do. That her having had an interview and 
 private conversation with this young and unknown stranger, should 
 
4oS THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 be a secret possessed by a person of the last class in which a young 
 lady would seek a confidant, and at the mercy of one who was by 
 profession gossip-general to the whole neighbourhood, gave her 
 acute agony. She had no reason, indeed, to suppose that the old 
 man would wilfully do anything to hurt her feelings, much less to 
 injure her ; but the mere freedom of speaking to her upon such a 
 subject, showed, as might have been expected, a total absence of 
 delicacy ; and what he might take it into his head to do or say next, 
 that she was pretty sure so professed an admirer of liberty would 
 not hesitate to do or say without scruple. This idea so much hurt 
 and vexed her, that she half wished the officious assistance of 
 Lovel and Ochiltree had been absent upon the preceding evening. 
 
 While she was in this agitation of spirits, she suddenly observed 
 Oldbuck and Lovel entering the court. She drew instantly so far 
 back from the window, that she could, without being seen, observe 
 how the Antiquary paused in front of the building, and, pointing to 
 the various scutcheons of its former owners, seemed in the ^ct of 
 bestowing upon Lovel much curious and erudite information, which, 
 from the absent look of his auditor, Isabella might shrewdly guess 
 was entirely thrown away. The necessity that she should talce some 
 resolution became instant and pressing ; — she rang, therefore, for a 
 servant, and ordered him to show the visitors to the drawing-room, 
 while she, by another staircase, gained her own apartment, to con- 
 sider, ere she made her appearance, what line of conduct were fittest 
 for her to pursue. The guests, agreeably to her instructions, were 
 introduced into the room where company was usually receivedr 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 — The time was that I hated thee, 
 
 And yet it is not that I bear thee love. 
 
 Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, 
 
 I will endure— 
 
 But do not look for further recompense. 
 
 As You Like it. 
 
 Miss Isabella Wardour's complexion was considerably 
 heightened, when, after the delay necessary to arrange her ideas, 
 she presented herself in the drawing-room. 
 
 " I am glad you are come, my fair foe," said the Antiquary, 
 greeting her with much kindness, " for I have had a most refrac- 
 tory, or at least negligent, auditor, in my young friend here, while I 
 endeavoured to make him acquainted with the history of Knock- 
 winnock Castle. I think the danger of last night has mazed the 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 107 
 
 poor lad. But you, Miss Isabel, why, you look as if flying through 
 the night air had been your natural and most congenial occupation. 
 Your colour is even bettei" than when you honoured my hospitium 
 yesterday — And Sir Arthur — how fares my good old friend ? " 
 
 " Indifferently well, Mr. Oldbuck ; but, I am afraid, not quite 
 able to receive your congratulations, or to pay — to pay — Mr. Lovel 
 his thanks for his unparalleled exertion*" 
 
 " I dare say not — A good down pillow for his good white head 
 were more meet than a couch so churlish as Bessy's Apron, plague 
 on her ! " 
 
 " I had no thought of intruding," said Lovel, looking upon the 
 ground, and speaking with hesitation and suppressed emotion ; •" I 
 did not — did not mean to intrude upon Sir Arthur or Miss Wardour 
 the presence of one who — who must necessarily be unwelcome — as 
 associated, I mean, with painful reflections." 
 
 " Do not think my father so unjust and ungrateful," said Miss 
 Wardour. " I dare say," she continued, participating in Lovel's 
 embarrassment — " I dare say — I am certain — that my father would 
 be happy to show his gratitude — in anyway — ^that is, which Mr. 
 Lovel could consider it as proper to point out." 
 
 " Why the deuce," interrupted Oldbuck, "what sort of a qualifi- 
 cation is that .' — On my word, it reminds me of our minister, who, 
 choosing, like a formal old fop as he is, to drink to my sister's incli- 
 nations, thought it necessary to add the saving-clause, Provided, 
 madam, they be virtuous. Come, let us have no more of this 
 nonsense — I dare say Sir Arthur will bid us welcome on some future 
 day. — And what news from the kingdom of subterranean darkness 
 and airy hope ? — what says the swart spirit of the mine ? — Has Sir 
 Arthur had any good intelligence of his adventure lately in Glen- 
 Withershins ? " 
 
 Miss Wardour shook her head — " But indifferent, I fear, Mr. 
 Oldbuck ; but there lie some specimens which have lately been 
 sent down." 
 
 " Ah ! my poor dear hundred pounds, which Sir Arthur per- 
 suaded me to give for a share in that hopeful scheme, would have 
 bought a porter's load of mineralogy — But let me see them." 
 
 And so saying, he sat down at the table in the recess, on which 
 the mineral productions were lying, and proceeded to examine 
 them, grumbling and pshawing at each which he took up and laid 
 aside. ' 
 
 In the meantime, Lovel, forced as it were by. this secession of 
 Oldbuck,' into a sort of tete-k-tete with Miss Wardour, took an 
 opportunity of addressing her in a low and interrupted tone of 
 voice. " I trust Miss Wardour will impute, to circumstances almost 
 
I08 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 irresistible, this intrusion of a person who has reason to think him- 
 self — so unacceptable a visitor." 
 
 " Mr. Lovel," answered Miss Wardour, observing the same tone 
 of caution, " I trust you will not — I am sure you are incapable of 
 abusing the advantages given to you by the services you have 
 rendered us, which, as they affect my father, can never be suffi- 
 ciently acknowledged or repaid. — Could Mr. Lovel see me without 
 his own peace being affected — could he see me as a friend — as a 
 sister — no man will be — and, from all I have ever heard of Mr. 
 Lovel, ought to be, more welcome ; but " 
 
 Oldbuck's anathema against the preposition but was internally 
 echoed by Lovel — " Forgive me if I interrupt you. Miss Wardour ; 
 you need not fear my intruding upon a subject where I have been 
 already severely repressed ; — ^but do not add to the severity of 
 repelling my sentiments the rigour of obliging me to disavow 
 them." 
 
 " I am much embarrassed, Mr. Lovel," replied the young lady, 
 " by your — I would not willingly use a strong word — your romantic 
 and hopeless pertinacity — it is for yourself I plead, that you would 
 consider the calls which your country has upon your talents, that 
 you will not waste, in an idle and fanciful indulgence of an ill-placed 
 predilection, time, which, well redeemed by active exertion, should ' 
 lay the foundation of future distinction — let me entreat that you 
 would form a manly resolution " 
 
 " It is enough. Miss Wardour ; — 1 see plainly that " 
 
 " Mr. Lovel, you are hurt— and, believe me, I sympathize in. the 
 pain which I inflict — but can I, in justice to myself, in fairness to 
 you, do otherwise? — Without my father's consent, I never will 
 entertain the addresses of any one, and how totally impossible it is 
 that he should countenance the partiality with which you honour 
 me, you are yourself fully aware — and, indeed " 
 
 " No, Miss Wardour," answered Lovel, in a tone of passionate 
 entreaty ; " do not go farther — is it not enough to crush every hope 
 in our present relative situation ? — do not carry your resolutions 
 farther — ^why urge what would be your conduct if Sir Arthur's 
 objections could be removed ? " 
 
 " It is indeed vain, Mr. Lovel," said Miss Wardour, " because 
 their removal is impossible ; and I only wish, as your friend, and as 
 one who is obliged to you for her own and her father's life, to 
 entreat you to suppress this unfortunate attachment — to leave a 
 country which affords no scope for your talents, and to resume 
 the honourable line of the profession which you seem to have 
 abandoned." 
 
 " Well, Miss Wardour, your wishes shall be obeyed ; — have 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 109 
 
 patience with me one little month, and if, in the course of that 
 space, I cannot show you such reasons for continuing my residence 
 at Fairport, as even you shall approve of, I will bid adieu to its 
 vicinity, and, with the same breath, to all my hopes of happi- 
 ness." 
 
 " Not so, Mr. Lovel ; many years of deserved happiness, founded 
 on a more rational basis than your present wishes, are, I trust, 
 before you — But it is full time to finish this conversation. — 1 cannot 
 force you to adopt my advice — I cannot shut the door of my father's 
 house against the preserver of his life and mine— but the sooner 
 Mr. Lovel can teach his mind to submit to the inevitable disap- ' 
 pointment of wishes which have been so rashly formed, the more 
 highly he will rise in my esteem — and, in the meanwhile, for his sake 
 as well as mine, he must excuse my putting an interdict upon con- 
 versation on a subject so painful." 
 
 A servant at this moment announced that Sir Arthur desired to 
 speak with Mr. Oldbuck in his dressing-room. 
 
 " Let me show you the way," said Miss Wardour, who apparently 
 dreaded a continuation of her tSte-k-tete with Lovel, and she con- 
 ducted the Antiquary accordingly to her father's apartment. 
 
 Sir Arthur, his legs swathed in flannel, was stretched on the 
 couch. " Welcome, Mr. Oldbuck," he said ; " I trust you have 
 come better off than I have done from the inclemency of yesterday 
 evening ? " 
 
 " Truly, Sir Arthur, I was not so much exposed to it — I kept 
 terra firma — ^you fairly committed yourself to the cold night air in 
 the most literal of all senses. But such adventures become a 
 gallant knight better than a humble esquire, — to rise on the wings 
 of the night-wind — to dive into the bowels of the earth. — What 
 news from our subterranean Good Hope ? the terra incognita of 
 Glen-Withershins?" 
 
 " Nothing good as yet," said the Baronet, turning himself hastily, 
 as if stung by a pang of the gout ; " but Dousterswivel does not 
 despair." 
 
 " Doth he not .■" " quoth Oldbuck ; " I do though, under his favour. 
 
 — Why old Dr. H n * told me, when I was in Edinburgh, that we 
 
 should never find copper enough, judging from the specimens I 
 showed him, to make a pair of sixpenny knee-buckles — and I 
 cannot see that those samples on the table below differ much in 
 quality." 
 
 " The learned doctor is not infallible, I presume ? " 
 
 " No ; but he is one of our first chemists ; and this tramping 
 philosopher of yours — this Dousterswivel, is, I have a notion, one 
 of those learned adventurers described by Kircher, Artem habent 
 
no THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 sine arte, partem sine parte, quorum medium estmentiri, vita eorum 
 mendicatum ire; that is to say, Miss Wardour " 
 
 " It is unnecessary to translate," said Miss Wardour, " I compre- 
 hend your general meaning — ^but I hope Mr. Dousterswivel will 
 turn out a more trustworthy character." 
 
 " I doubt it not a little," said the Antiquary, " and we are a foul 
 way out if we cannot discover this infernal vein that he has pro- 
 phesied about these two years." 
 
 " You have no great interest in the matter, Mr. Oldbuck," said 
 the Baronet. 
 
 " Too much, too much. Sir Arthur — and yet, for the sake of my 
 fair foe here, I would consent to lose it all, so you had no more on 
 the venture." 
 
 There was a painful silence of a few moments, for Sir Arthur was 
 too proud to acknowledge the downfal of his golden dreams, though 
 he could no longer disguise to himself that such was likely to 
 be the termination of the adventure. "I understand," he at 
 length said, " that the young gentleman, to whose gallantry and 
 presence of mind we were so much indebted last night, has 
 favoured me with a visit — I am distressed that I am unable to 
 see him, or indeed any one, but an old friend like you, Mr. 
 Oldbuck." 
 
 A declination of the Antiquary's stiff backbone acknowledged the 
 preference. 
 
 " You made acquaintance with this young ge;itleman in Edin- 
 burgh, I suppose ? " 
 
 Oldbuck told the circumstances of their becoming known to each 
 other. 
 
 " Why, then, my daughter is an older acquaintance of Mr. Lovel 
 than you are," said the Baronet. 
 
 " Indeed ! I was not aware of that," answered Oldbuck, some- 
 what surprised. 
 
 "I met Mr. Lovel," said Isabella, slightly colouring, " when I 
 resided this last spring with my aunt, Mrs. Wilmot" 
 
 " In Yorkshire ? — ^and what character did he bear then, or how 
 was he engaged ? " said Oldbuck, — " and why did you not recognise 
 him when I introduced you ? " 
 
 Isabella answered the least difficult question, and passed over the 
 other. " He had a commission in the army, and had, I believe, 
 served with reputation ; he was much respected, as an amiable and 
 promising young man." 
 
 " And pray, such being the case," replied the Antiquary, not dis- 
 posed to take one reply in answer to two distinct questions, " why 
 did you not speak to the lad at once when you met him at my 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. Ill 
 
 house ? — I thought you had less of the paltry pride of wpmankind 
 about you, Miss Wardour." 
 
 "There was a reason for it," said Sir Arthur, with dignity ; "you 
 know the opinions — prejudices, perhaps you will call them^of our 
 house concerning purity of birth ; this young gentleman is, it seems, 
 the illegitimate son of a man of fortune ; my daughter did not 
 choose to renew their acquaintance till she should know whether I 
 approved of her holding any intercourse with him." 
 
 " If it had been with his mother instead of himself," answered 
 Oldbuck, with his usual dry causticity of humour, " I could see an 
 excellent reason for it. Ah, poor lad ! that was the cause, then, 
 that he seemed so absent and confused while I explained to him 
 the reason of the bend of bastardy upon the shield yonder under the 
 -corner turret ! " 
 
 " True," said the Baronet, with complacency, " it is the shield of 
 Malcolm the Usurper, as he is called. The tower which he built is 
 termed, after him, Malcolm's tower, but more frequently Misticot's 
 Tower, which I conceive to be a corruption for Misbegot. He is 
 denominated, in the Latin pedigree of our family, Milcoltimbus 
 Nothusj and his temporary seizure of our property, and most 
 unjust attempt to establish his own illegitimate line in the estate of 
 Knockwinnock, gave rise to such family feuds and misfortunes, as 
 strongly to found us in that horror and antipathy to defiled blood 
 and illegitimacy, which has been handed down to me from my re- 
 spected ancestry." 
 
 " I know the story,'' said Oldbuck, " and I was telling it to Lovel 
 this moment, with some of the wise maxims and consequences 
 which it has engrafted on your family politics. Poor fellow ! he 
 must have been much hurt : I took the wavering of his attention 
 for negligence, and was something piqued at it, and it proves to be 
 only an excess of feeling. I hope. Sir Arthur, you will not think 
 the less of your life because it has been preserved by such assist- 
 ance ? " 
 
 " Nor the less of my assistant either," said the Baronet ; " my 
 doors and table shall be equally open to him as if he had descended 
 of the most unblemished lineage." 
 
 " Come, I am glad of that — he'll know where he can get a dinner, 
 then, if he wants one. But what views can he have in this neigh- 
 bourhood ? — I must catechise him ; and if I find he wants it — or, | 
 indeed, whether he does or not — he shall have my best advice." 
 As the Antiquary made this liberal promise, he took his leave of 
 Miss Wardour and her father, eager to commence operations 
 upon Mr. Lovel. He informed him abruptly that Miss 
 Wardour sent her compliments, and remained in attendance on 
 
112 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 her father, and then taking him by the arm, he led him out of the 
 castle. 
 
 Knockwinnock still preserved much of the external attributes of 
 a baronial castle. It had its drawbridge, though now never drawn 
 up, and its dry moat, the sides of which had been planted with 
 shrubs, chiefly of the evergreen tribes. Above these rose the old 
 building, partly from a foundation of red rock scarped down to the 
 sea-beach, and partly from the steep green verge of the moat. The 
 trees of the avenue have been already mentioned, and many others 
 rose around of large size, as if to confute the prejudice that timber 
 cannot be raised near to the ocean. Our walkers paused, and 
 looked back upon the castle, as they attained the height of a small 
 knoll, over which lay their homeward road ; for it is to be supposed 
 they did not tempt the risk of the tide by returning along the sands. 
 The building flung its broad shadow upon the tufted foliage of the 
 shrubs beneath it, while the front windows sparkled in the sun. 
 They were viewed by the gazers with very different feelings. Lovel, 
 with the fond eagerness of that passion which derives its food and 
 nourishment from trifles, as the cameleon is said to live on the air, 
 or upon the invisible insects which it contains, endeavoured to con- 
 jecture which of the numerous windows belonged to the apartment 
 now graced by Miss Wardour's presence. The speculations of the 
 Antiquary were of a more melancholy cast, and were partly indi- 
 cated by the ejaculation of cito peritura ! as he turned away from 
 the prospect. Lovel, roused from his reverie, looked at him as if 
 to inquire the meaning of an exclamation so ominous. The old 
 man shook his head. " Yes, my young friend," said he, " I doubt 
 greatly — and it wrings my heart to say it — this ancient family is 
 going fast to the ground ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! " answered Lovel — " you surprise me greatly ! " 
 
 " We harden ourselves in vain," continued the Antiquary, pursuing 
 his own train of thought and feeling — " We harden ourselves in 
 vain to treat with the indifference they deserve, the changes of this 
 trumpery whirligig world. — ^We strive ineffectually to be the self- 
 sufficing invulnerable being, the teres aique rotundus of the poet ; 
 ■ — the stoical exemption which philosophy affects to give us over 
 the pains and vexations of human life, is as imaginary as the state 
 of mystical quietism and perfection aimed at by some crazy enthu- 
 siasts." 
 
 "And Heaven forbid that it should be otherwise ! " said Lovel, 
 warmly — " Heaven forbid that any process of philosophy were 
 capable so to sear and indurate our feehngs, that nothing should 
 agitate them but what arose instantly and immediately out of our 
 own selfish interests ! I would as soon wish my hand to be as 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 113 
 
 callous as horn, that it might escape an occasional cut or scratch, 
 as I would be ambitious of the stoicism which should render my 
 heart like a piece of the nether millstone." 
 
 The Antiquary regarded his youthful companion with a look half 
 of pity, half of sympathy, and shrugged up his shoulders as he re- 
 plied, " Wait, young man — wait till your bark has been battered by 
 the storm of sixty years of mortal vicissitude —you will learn by that 
 time to reef your sails, that she may obey the helm ; — or, in the 
 language of this world, you will find distresses enough, endured and 
 to endure, to keep your feelings and sympathies in full exercise, 
 without concerning yourself more in the fate of others than you 
 cannot possibly avoid." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Oldbuck, it may be so ; but as yet I resemble you 
 more in your practice than in your theory, for I cannot help being 
 deeply interested in the fate of the family we have just left." 
 
 " And well you may," repUed Oldbuck. " Sir Arthur's embarrass- 
 ments have of late become so many and so pressing, that I am sur- 
 prised you have not heard of them. — And then his absurd and 
 expensive operations carried on by this High-German landlouper, 
 Dousterswivel " 
 
 " I think I have seen that person, when, by some rare chance, I 
 happened to be in the coffee-room at Fairport ; — a tall beetle- 
 browed, awkward-built man, who entered upon scientific subjects, 
 as it appeared to my ignorance at least, with more assurance than 
 knowledge, was very arbitrary in laying down and asserting his 
 opinions, and mixed the terms of science with a strange jargon of 
 mysticism ; a simple youth whispered me that he was an Illuming, 
 and carried on an intercourse with the invisible world." 
 
 " O, the same — the same — ^he has enough of practical knowledge 
 to speak scholarly and wisely to those of whose intelligence he 
 stands in awe ; and, to say the truth, this faculty, joined to his 
 matchless impudence, imposed upon me for some time when I first 
 knew him. But I have since understood, that when he is among 
 fools and womankind, he exhibits himself as a perfect charlatan — 
 talks of the magistej'ium — of sympathies and antipathies — of the 
 cabala — of the divining rod — -and all the trumpery with which the 
 Rosycrucians cheated a darker age, and which, to our eternal dis- 
 grace, has in some degree revived in our own. My friend Heavy- 
 sterne knew this fellow abroad, and unintentionally (for he, you 
 must know, is, God bless the mark ! a sort of believer) let me into 
 a good deal of his real character. Ah ! were I caliph for a day, as 
 honest Abon Hassan wished to be, I would scourge me these 
 jugglers out of the commonwealth with rods of scorpions. They 
 debauch the spirit of the ignorant and credulous with mystical 
 
114 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 trash, as effectually as if they had besotted their brains with gin, 
 and then pick their pockets with the same facility. And now has 
 this strolling blackguard and mountebank put the finishing blow to 
 the ruin of an ancient and honourable family ! " 
 
 " But how could he impose upon Sir Arthur to any ruinous 
 extent ? " 
 
 " Why, I don't know — Sir Arthur is a good, honourable gentle- 
 man ; — but, as you may see from his loose ideas concerning the 
 Pikish language, he is by no means very strong in the under- 
 standing. His estate is strictly entailed, and he has been always 
 an embarrassed man. This rapparee promised him mountains of 
 wealth, and an English company was found to advance large sums 
 of money — I fear on Sir Arthur's guarantee. Some gentlemen — 
 I was ass enough to be one^ — took small shares in^the' concern, and 
 Sir Arthur himself made great outlay; we were trained on by spe- 
 cious appearances and more specious lies ; and now, like John 
 Bunyan, we awake, and behold it is a dream ! " 
 
 " I am surprised that you, Mr. Oldbuck, sjiiould have encouraged 
 Sir Arthur by your example." 
 
 " Why," said Oldbuck, dropping his large grizzled eyebrow, " I 
 am something surprised and ashamed at it myself ; it was not the 
 lucre of gain — nobody cares less for money (to be a prudent man) 
 than I do — but I thought I might risk this small sum. It will be 
 expected (though I am sure I cannot see why) that I should give 
 something to any one who will be kind enough to rid me of that 
 slip of womankind, my niece, Mary M'Intyre ; and perhaps it may 
 be thought I should do something to get that jackanapes, her 
 brother, on in the army. In either case, to treble my venture, 
 would have helped me out. And besides, I had some idea that the 
 Phoenicians had in former times wrought copper in that very spot. 
 That cunning scoundrel, Dousterswivel, found out my blunt side, 
 and brought strange tales (d — n him) of appearances of old shafts, 
 and vestiges of mining operations, conducted in a manner quite 
 different from those of modern times ; and I — in short, I was a 
 fool, and there is an end. My loss is not much worth speaking 
 about ; but Sir Arthur's engagements are, I understand, very deep, 
 and my heart aches for him, and the poor young lady who must 
 share his distress." 
 
 Here the conversation paused, until renewed in the next chapter. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. rfS 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep, 
 
 My dreams presage some joyful news at hand : 
 
 My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne, 
 
 And all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit 
 
 Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 The account of Sir Arthur's unhappy adventure had led Old- 
 buck somewhat aside from his purpose of catechising Lovel con- 
 cerning the cause of his residence at Fairport. He was now, 
 however, resolved to open the subject. " Miss Wardour was formerly 
 known to you, she tells me, Mr. Lovel ? " 
 
 " He had had the pleasure," Lovel answered, "to see her at Mrs. 
 Wilmot's, in Yorkshire." 
 
 " Indeed ! you never mentioned that to me before, and you did 
 not accost her as an old acquaintance." 
 
 " I — I did not know," said Lovel, a good deal embarrassed, " it 
 was the same lady, till we met ; and then it was my duty to wait 
 till she should recognise me." 
 
 " I am aware of your delicacy : the knight's a punctilious old 
 fool, but I promise you his daughter is above all nonsensical cere- 
 mony and prejudice. And now, since you: have found a new set of 
 friends here, may I ask if you intend to leave Fairport as soon as 
 you proposed?" 
 
 "What if I should answer your question by another,'' replied 
 Lovel, " and ask you what is your opinion of dreams ? " 
 
 " Of dreams, you foolish lad ! — why, what should I think of them 
 but as the deceptions of imagination when reason drops the reins ? 
 — I know no difference betwixt them and the hallucinations of 
 madness— the unguided horses run away with the carriage in both 
 cases, only in the one the coachman is drunk, and in the other he 
 slumbers. What says our Marcus TuUius — Si insanorum visis 
 fides non est habenda, cur credatur somnientium visis, quce tnulto 
 etiam perturbatiora sunt, non intelligo." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but Cicero also teUs us, that as he who passes the 
 whole day in darting the javelin must sometimes hit the mark, so, 
 amid the cloud of nightly dreams, some may occur consonant to 
 future events." 
 
 " Ay — that is to say, you have hit the mark in your own sage 
 opinion.' Lord! Lord! how this world is given to folly! Well, 
 I will allow for once the Oneirocritical science — I will give faith to 
 
 ir 2 
 
Ii6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 the exposition of dfeams, and say a Daniel hath arisen to interpret 
 them, if you can prove to me that that dream of yours has pointed 
 to a prudent line of conduct." 
 
 " Tell me, then," answered Lovel, " why, when I was hesitating 
 whether to abandon an enterprise which I have perhaps rashly 
 undertaken, I should last night dream I saw your ancestor pointing 
 to a motto which encouraged me to perseverance ? Why should I 
 have thought of those words which I cannot remember to have 
 heard before, which are in a language unknown to me, and which 
 yet conveyed, when translated, a lesson which I could so plainly 
 apply to my own circumstances ? " 
 
 The Antiquary burst into a fit of laughing. " Excuse me, my 
 young friend, but it is thus we silly mortals deceive ourselves, and 
 look out of doors for motives which originate in our own wilful 
 will. I think I can help out the cause of your vision. You were 
 so abstracted in your contemplations yesterday after dinner, as to 
 pay little attention to the discourse between Sir Arthur and me, 
 until we fell upon the controversy concerning the Piks, which 
 terminated so abruptly ; but I remember producing to Sir Arthur 
 a book printed by my ancestor, and making him observe the 
 motto ; your mind was bent elsewhere, but your ear had mecha- 
 nically received and retained the sounds, and your busy fancy, 
 stirred by Grizel's legend, I presume, had introduced this scrap of 
 German into your dream. As for the waking wisdom which seized 
 on so frivolous a circumstance as an apology for persevering in 
 some course which it could find no better reason to justify, it is 
 exactly one of those juggling tricks which the sagest of ^us play off 
 mow and then, to gratify our inclination at the expense of our 
 understanding." 
 
 " I own it," said Lovel, blushing deeply ; " I believe you are 
 right, Mr. Oldbuck, and I ought to sink in your esteem for attach- 
 ing a moment's consequence to such a frivolity ; but I was tossed by 
 contradictory wishes and resolutions, and you know how slight a 
 line will tow a boat when afloat on the billows, though a cable 
 would hardly move her when pulled up on the beach." 
 
 " Right, right," exclaimed the Antiquary ; " fall in my opinion ! 
 — not a whit — I love thee the better, man ; — why, we have story for 
 story against each other, and I can think with less shame on having 
 exposed myself about that cursed Praetorium — though I am still 
 convinced Agricola's camp must have been somewhere in this 
 neighbourhood. And now, Lovel, my good lad, be sincere with 
 me — What make you from Wittenberg ? — Why have you left your 
 own country and professional pursuits, for an idle residence in such 
 a place as Fairport ? A truant disposition, I fear." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. "7 
 
 " Even'jso," replied Lovel, patiently submitting to an interrogatory 
 which he could not well evade ; yet I am so detached from all the 
 world, have so few in whom I am interested, or who are interested 
 in me, that my very state of destitution gives me independence. 
 He whose good or evil fortune affects himself alone, has the best 
 right to pursue it according to his own fancy." 
 
 '' Pardon me, young man," said Oldbuck, laying his hand kindly 
 on his shoulder, and making a full halt — " snfflamina — a little 
 patience, if you please. I will suppose that you have no friends to 
 share or rejoice in your success in life, that you cannot look back 
 to those to whom you owe gratitude, or forward to those to whom 
 you ought to afford protection — but it is no less incumbent on you 
 to move steadily in the path of duty — for your active exertions are 
 due not only to society, but in humble gratitude to the Being who 
 made you a member of it, with powers to serve yourself and 
 others." 
 
 " But I am unconscious of possessing such powers," said Lovel, 
 somewhat impatiently. " I ask nothing of society but the per- 
 mission of walking innoxiously through the path of life, without 
 jostling others, or permitting myself to be jostled. — I owe no man 
 anything — I have the means of maintaining myself with complete 
 independence ; and so moderate are my wishes in this respect, that 
 even these means, however limited, rather exceed than fall short of 
 them." 
 
 " Nay, then," said Oldbuck, removing his hand, and turning 
 again to the road, " if you are so true a philosopher as to think you 
 have money enough, there's no more to be said — I cannot pretend 
 to be entitled to advise you ; you have attained the acfne — the sum- 
 mit of perfection. And how came Fairport to be the selected 
 abode of so much self-denying philosophy .' It is as if a worshipper 
 of the true religion had set up his staff by choice among the multi- 
 farious idolaters of the land of Egypt. There is not a man in Fair- 
 port who is not a devoted worshipper of the Golden Calf — the Mam- 
 mon of unrighteousness — why, even I, man, am so infected by the 
 bad neighbourhood, that I feel inclined occasionally to become an 
 idolater myself." 
 
 " My principal amusements being literary," answered Lovel, 
 " and circumstances which I cannot mention having induced me, 
 for a time at least, to relinquish the military service, I. have pitched 
 on Fairport as a place where I might follow my pursuits without 
 any of those temptations to society which a more elegant circle 
 might have presented to me." 
 
 " Aha !" replied Oldbuck, knowingly, — "I begin to understand 
 your application of my ancestor's motto — you are a candidate for 
 
ii8 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 public favour, though not in the way I first suspected, — ^you are 
 ambitious to shine as a literary character, and you hope to merit 
 favour by labour and perseverance ? " 
 
 Lovel, who was rather closely pressed by the inquisitiveness of 
 the old gentleman, concluded it would be best to let him remain in 
 the error which he had gratuitously adopted. 
 
 " I have been at times foolish enough," he replied, " to nourish 
 some thoughts of the kind." 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow ! nothing can be more melancholy ; tmless, as 
 young men sometimes do, you had fancied yourself in love with 
 some trumpery specimen of womankind, which is indeed, as Shak- 
 speare truly says, pressing to death, whipping, and hanging all at 
 once." 
 
 He then proceeded with inquiries, which he was sometimes 
 kind enough to answer himself. For this good old gentleman had, 
 from his antiquarian researches, acquired a delight in building 
 theories out of premises which were often far from affording sufficient 
 ground for them ; and being, as the reader must have remarked, 
 sufficiently opinionative, he did not readily brook being corrected, 
 either in matter of fact or judgment, even by those who were prin- 
 cipally interested in the subjects on which he speculated. He went 
 on, therefore, chalking out Level's literary career'for him. 
 
 " And with what do you propose to commence your debut as a 
 man of letters? — but I guess — poetry — poetry — the soft seducer of 
 youth. Yes ! there is an acknowledging modesty of confusion in 
 your eye and manner: — And where lies your vein.' — are you in- 
 clined to soar to the higher regions of Parnassus, or to flutter around 
 the base of the hill?" 
 
 " I have hitherto attempted only a few lyrical pieces,'' said 
 Lovel. 
 
 " Just as I supposed — pruning your wing, and hopping from spray 
 to spray. But I trust you intend a bolder flight. — Observe, I would 
 by no means recommend your persevering in this unprofitable pur- 
 suit — but you say you are quite independent of the public caprice." 
 
 " Entirely so," replied Lovel. 
 
 " And that you are determined not to adopt a more active course 
 of life?" 
 
 " For the present, such is my resolution," replied the young man. 
 
 " Why, then, itonly reinains for me to give you my best advice 
 and assistance in the object of your pursuit. I have myself pub- 
 lished two essays in the Antiquarian Repository, — and therefore am 
 an author of experience. There was my Remarks on Hearne's 
 edition of Robert of Gloucester, signed Scrutator; and the other 
 signed Indagator, upon a passage in Tacitus — I might add, what 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 119 
 
 attracted considerable notice at the time, and that is my paper in 
 tlie Gentleman's Magazine, upon the inscription of CElia Lelia, 
 which I subscribed CEdipus — So you see I am not an apprentice in 
 the mysteries of author-craft, and must necessarily understand the 
 taste and temper of the times — And now, once more what do you 
 intend to commence with ? " 
 
 " I have no instant thoughts of publishing." 
 
 " Ah ! that will never do ; you must have the fear of the public 
 before your eyes in all your undertakings. Let us see now — A col- 
 lection of fugitive pieces — ^but no — your fugitive poetry is apt to 
 become stationary with the bookseller. — It should be something at 
 once solid and attractive — none of your romances or anomalous 
 novelties — I would have you take high ground at once. — Let me 
 see — What think you of a real epic ? — the grand old-fashioned his- 
 torical poem which moved through twelve or , twenty-four books — 
 We'll have it so — I'll supply you with a subject — The battle between 
 the Caledonians and Romans — The Caledoniad ; or. Invasion Re- 
 pelled — Let that be the title — It will suit the present taste, and you 
 may throw in a touch of the times." 
 
 " But the invasion of Agricola was not repelled." 
 
 " No ; but you are a poet — free of the corporation, and as little 
 bound down to truth or probability as Virgil himself — You may de- 
 feat, the Romans in spite of Tacitus." 
 
 " And pitch Agricola's camp at the Kaim of — what do you call 
 it," answered Lovel, " in defiance of Edie Ochiltree ? " 
 
 " No more of that, an thou lovest me — And yet, I dare say, ye 
 may unwittingly speak most correct truth in both instances, in de- 
 spite of the toga of the historian and the blue gown of the mendicant." 
 
 " Gallantly counselled ! — Well, I will do my best — your kindness 
 wiU assist me with local information." 
 
 " WiU I not, man ? — why, I will write the critical and historical 
 notes on each canto, and draw out the plan of the story myself. I 
 pretend to some poetical genius, Mr. Lovel, only I was never able 
 to write verses." 
 
 " It is a pity, sir, that you should have failed in a qualification 
 somewhat essential to the art." 
 
 " Essential ? — not a whit — it is the mere mechanical depart- 
 ment. A man may be a poet without measuring spondees and 
 dactyls like the ancients, or clashing the ends of lines into rhyme 
 like the moderns, as one may be an architect though unable to 
 labour like a stone-mason — Dost think PaUadio or Vitruvius ever 
 carried a hod .■■ " 
 
 " In that case, there should be two authors to each poem — one 
 to think and plan, another to execute." 
 
I20 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " Why, it would not be amiss ; at any rate, we'll make the 
 experiment ; — not that I would wish to give my name to the public — 
 assistance from a learned friend might be acknowledged in the 
 preface after what flourish your nature will — I am a total stranger 
 to authorial vanity." 
 
 Lovel was much entertained by a declaration not very consistent 
 with the eagerness wherewith his friend seemed to catch at an 
 opportunity of coming before the public, though in a manner 
 which rather resembled stepping up behind a carriage than getting 
 into one. The Antiquary was indeed uncommonly delighted ; for, 
 like many other men who spend their lives in obscure literary 
 research, he had a secret ambition to appear in print, which was 
 checked by cold fits of diffidence, fear of criticism, and habits of 
 indolence and procrastination. " But," thought he, " I may, like a 
 second Teucer, discharge my shafts from behind the shield of my 
 ally, and admit that he should not prove to be a iirst-rate poet, I 
 am in no shape answerable for his deficiencies, and the good notes 
 may very probably help off an indifferent text. But he is — he 
 must be a good poet — he has the real Parnassian abstraction — 
 seldom answers a question till it is twice repeated — drinks his tea 
 scalding, and eats without knowing what he is putting into his 
 mouth. This is the real cestus, the awen of the Welsh bards, the 
 divijius afflatus that transports the poet beyond the limits of sub- 
 lunary things — His visions, too, are very symptomatical of poetic 
 fury — I must recollect to send Caxon to see he puts out his candle 
 to-night — poets and visionaries are apt to be negligent in that 
 respect." Then, turning to his companion, he expressed himself 
 aloud, in continuation— 
 
 " Yes, my dear Lovel, you shall have full notes ; and, indeed, I 
 think we may introduce the whole of the Essay on Castrametation 
 into the Appendix — it will give great value to the work. Then we 
 will revive the good old forms so disgracefully neglected in modern 
 times. — You shall invoke the Muse— and certainly she ought to be 
 propitious to an author who, in an apostatizing age, adheres with the 
 faith of Abdiel to the ancient form of adoration. — Then we must 
 have a vision — in which the Genius of Caledonia shall appear to 
 Galgacus, and show him a procession of the real Scottish monarchs ; 
 — and in the notes I will have a hit a-' Boethius — No, I must not 
 touch that topic, now that Sir Arthur is likely to have vexation 
 enough besides — but I'll annihilate Ossian, Macpherson, and Mac- 
 Cribb." 
 
 " But we must consider the expense of publication," said Lovel, 
 willing to try whether this hint would fall like cold water on the 
 blazing zeal of his self-elected coadjutor. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. I2t 
 
 " Expense ! " said Mr. Oldbuck, pausing, and mechanically 
 fumbling in his pocket — " that is true ; — I would wish to do some- 
 thing — but you would not like to publish by subscription ? " 
 
 " By no means," answered Lovel. 
 
 '•' No, no ! " gladly acquiesced the Antiquary. " It is not respect- 
 able. — I'll tell you what : I believe I know a bookseller who has a 
 value for my opinion, and will risk print and paper, and I will get 
 as many copies sold for you as I can." 
 
 " O, I am no mercenary author," answered Lovel, smiling ; " I 
 only wish to be out of risk of loss." : 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! we'll take care of that — throw it all on the 
 publishers. I do long to see your labours commenced. You will 
 choose blank verse, doubtless ? — It is more grand and magnificent 
 for an historical subject ; and, what concerneth you, my friend, it 
 is, I have an idea, more easily written." 
 
 This conversation brought them to Monkbarns, where the Anti- 
 quary had to undergo a chiding from his sister, who, though no 
 philosopher, was waiting to deliver a lecture to him in the portico. 
 " Guide us, Monkbarns ! are things no dear eneugh already, but ye 
 maun be raising the very fish on us, by giving that randy, Luckie 
 Mucklebackit, just what she likes to ask ? " 
 
 " Why, Grizel," said the sage, somewhat abashed at this unex- 
 pected attack, " I thought I made a very fair bargain." 
 
 " A fair bargain ! when ye gied the limmer a full half o' what 
 she seekit ! — ^An ye will be a wife-carle, and buy fish at your 
 ain hands, ye suld never bid muckle mair than a quarter. And the 
 impudent quean had the assurance to come up and seek a dram 
 — but I trow, Jenny and I sorted her 1 " 
 
 " Truly," said Oldbuck (with a sly look to his companion), "1 
 think our estate was gracious that kept us out of hearing of that 
 controversy. — Well, well, Grizel, I was wrong for once in my life — 
 ulira crepidam — I fairly admit. But hang expenses ! — care kiUed 
 a cat — we'll eat the fish, cost what it will. — And then, Lovel, 
 you must know I pressed you to stay here to-day, the rather 
 because our cheer will be better than usual, yesterday having been 
 a gaud^-day — I love the reversion of a feast better than the feast 
 itself. I delight in the analecta, the collectanea, as I may call them, 
 of the preceding day's dinner, which appear on such occasions — 
 And see, there is Jenny going to ring the dinner-beU." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAPTER XV, 
 
 " Be this letter delivered with haste— haste — post-haste ! Ride, 
 villain, ride, — for thy life — for thy life — for thy life ! " 
 
 Ancient Indorsation of Letters of Importance. 
 
 Leaving Mr. Oldbuck and his friend to enjoy their hard bargain 
 of fish, vi'e beg leave to transport the reader to the back-parlour of 
 the post-master's house at Fairport, where his wife, he himself 
 being absent, was employed in assorting for delivery the letters 
 which had come by the Edinburgh post. This is very often in 
 country towns the period of the day when gossips find it particu- 
 larly agreeable to call on the man or woman of letters, in order, 
 from the outside of the epistles, and, if they are not belied, occa- 
 sionally from the inside also, to amuse themselves with gleaning 
 information, or forming conjectures about the correspondence and 
 affairs of their neighbours. Two females of this description were, 
 at the time we mention, assisting, or impeding, Mrs. Mailsetter in 
 her official duty. 
 
 " Eh, preserve us, sirs ! " said the butcher's wife, " there's ten — 
 eleven — twall letters to Tennant & Co. — thae folk do mair business 
 than a' the rest o' the burgh." 
 
 " Ay ; but see, lass," answered the baker's lady, " there's twa o' 
 them faulded unco square, and sealed at the tae side — I doubt 
 there will be protested bills in them." 
 
 " Is there ony letters come yet for Jenny Caxon ? " inquired the 
 woman of joints and giblets ; " the lieutenant's been awa three 
 weeks." 
 
 " Just ane on Tuesday was a week," answered the dame of letters. 
 
 " Was't a ship letter ? " asked the Fornarina. 
 
 " In troth was't." 
 
 " It wad be frae the lieutenant then," replied the mistress of the 
 rolls, somewhat disappointed — " I never thought he wad hae lookit 
 ower his shouther after her." 
 
 " Od, here's another," quoth Mrs. Mailsetter. " A ship-letter — 
 post-mark, Sunderland." AH rushed to seize it. — " Na, na, leddies," 
 said Mrs. Mailsetter, interfering; " I hae had eneugh of thatwark. 
 — Ken ye that Mr. Mailsetter got an unco rebuke frae. the secre- 
 tary at Edinburgh, for a complaint that was made about the letter 
 of Aily Bisset's that ye opened, Mrs. Shortcake ? " 
 
 " Me opened ! " answered the spouse of the chief bs^ker of Fair- 
 port ; " ye ken yoursell, madam, it just cam open o' free will in my 
 hand — What could I help it ?— folk suld seal wi' better wax." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 123 
 
 " Weel I wot that's true, too," said Mrs. Mailsetter, who kept a 
 shop of small wares, " and we have got some that I can honestly 
 recommend, if ye ken onybody wanting it. But the short and the 
 lang o't is, that we'll lose the place gin there's ony mair complaints 
 o' the kind." 
 
 " Hout, lass ; the provost will take care o' that." 
 
 " Na, na ; I'll neither trust to provost nor bailie," said the post- 
 mistress, — " but I wad aye be obliging and neighbourly, and I'm 
 no again your looking at^the outside of a letter neither — See, the 
 seal has an anchor on't — he's done't wi' ane o' his buttons, I'm 
 thinking." 
 
 " Show me ! show me ! " quoth the wives of the chief butcher 
 and chief baker ; and threw themselves on the supposed love-letter, 
 like the weird sisters in Macbeth upon the pilot's thumb, with 
 curiosity as eager, and scarcely less malignant. Mrs. Heukbane 
 was a tall woman, she held the precious epistle up between her 
 eyes and the window. Mrs. Shortcake, a little squat personage, 
 strained and stood on tiptoe to have her share of the investi- 
 gation. 
 
 " Ay, it's frae him, -sure eneugh," said the butcher's lady ; — " I 
 can read Richard Taffril on the corner, and it's written, like John 
 Thomson's wallet, frae end to end." 
 
 " Haud it lower down, madam," exclaimed Mrs. Shortcake, in a 
 tone above the prudential whisper which their occupation required 
 — " haud it lower down — Div ye think naebody can read hand o' 
 writ but yoursell ? " 
 
 " Whisht, whisht, sirs, for God's sake ! " said Mrs. Mailsetter, 
 " there's somebody in the shop," — then aloud — " Look to the cus- 
 tomers. Baby ! " — Baby answered from without in a shrill tone — 
 " It's naebody but Jenny Caxon, ma'am, to see if there's ony letters 
 to her." 
 
 " Tell her," said the faithful postmistress, winking to her com- 
 peers, " to come back the morn at ten o'clock, and I'll let her ken 
 — we havena had time to sort the mail letters yet- — she's aye in sic 
 a hurry, as if her letters were o' mair consequence than the best 
 merchant's o' the town." 
 
 Poor Jenny, a girl of uncommon beauty and modesty, could only 
 draw her cloak about her to hide the sigh of disappointment, and 
 return meekly home to endure for another night the sickness of the 
 heart occasioned by hope delayed. 
 
 " There's something about a needle and a pole," said Mrs. Short- 
 cake, to whom her taller rival in gossiping had at length yielded a 
 peep at the subject of their curiosity. 
 
 " Now, that's downright shamefu'," said Mrs. Heukbane, "to 
 
124 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 scorn the poor silly gait of a lassie after he's keepit company 
 wi' her sae lang, and had his will o' her, as I make nae doubt 
 he has." 
 
 " It's but ower muckle to be doubted," echoed Mrs. Shortcake ; 
 to cast up to her that her father's a barber, and has a pole at his 
 door, and that she's but a manty-maker hersell ! Hout ! fy for 
 shame ! " 
 
 " Hout tout, leddies," cried Mrs. Mailsetter, " ye're clean wrang 
 — it's a line out o' ane o' his sailors' sangs that I have heard him 
 sing, about being true like the needle to the pole." 
 
 " Weel, weel, I wish it may be sae," said the charitable Dame 
 Heukbane, — " but it disna look weel for a lassie like her to keep up 
 a correspondence wi' ane o' the king's officers." 
 
 " I'm no denying that," said Mrs. Mailsetter ; " but it's a great 
 advantage to the revenue of the post-office thae love-letters. See, 
 here's five or six letters to Sir Arthur Wardour — maist o' them 
 sealed wi' wafers, and no wi' wax — there will be a downcome there, 
 believe me." 
 
 " Ay ; they will be business letters, and no frae ony o' his grand 
 friends, that seals wi' their coats of arms, as they ca' them," said 
 Mrs. Heukbane ; " pride will hae a fa' — ^he hasna settled his 
 account wi' my gudeman, the deacon, for this twalmonth — he's but 
 slink, I doubt." - 
 
 " Nor wi' huz for sax months," echoed Mrs. Shortcake, " he's but 
 a brunt crust." 
 
 " There's a letter," interrupted the trusty post -mistress, " from 
 his son, the captain, I'm thinking — the seal has the same things wi' 
 the Knockwinnock carriage. He'll be coming hame to see what he 
 can save out o' the fire." 
 
 The baronet thus dismissed, they took up the esquire — " Twa 
 letters for Monkbarns — they're frae some o' his learned friends now ; 
 — See sae close as they're written, down to the very seal — and a' 
 to save sending a double letter — that's just like Monkbarns himsell. 
 When he gets a frank he fills it up exact to the weight of an unce, 
 that a carvy-seed would sink the scale — but he's ne'er a grain abune 
 it. Weel I wot I wad be broken if I were to gie sic weight to the 
 folk that come to buy our pepper and brimstone, and suchlike 
 sweetmeats." 
 
 " He's a shabby body, the laird o' Monkbarns," said Mrs. Heuk- 
 bane ; — "he'll make as muckle about buying a forequarter o' lamb 
 in August as about a back sey o' beef. Let's taste another drap o' 
 the sinning" (perhaps she meant cinnamon) "waters, Mrs. Mail- 
 setter, my dear — Ah, lasses! an ye had kend his brother as I. did 
 — mony a time he wad slip in to see me wi' a brace o' wild-deukes 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 125 
 
 in bis pouch, when my first gudeman was awa at tlie Falkirk tryst 
 — weel, weel— we'se no speak o' that e'enow." 
 
 " I winna say ony ill o' this Monkbarns," said Mrs. Shortcake ; 
 " his brother ne'er brought me ony wild-deukes, and this is a douce 
 honest man — we serve the family wi' bread, and he settles wi' huz 
 ilka week — only he was in an unco kippage when we sent him a 
 book instead o' the nick-sticks* whilk, he said, were the true 
 ancient way o' counting between tradesmen and customers ; and 
 sae they are, nae doubt." 
 
 " But look here, lasses," interrupted Mrs. Mailsetter, " here's a 
 sight for sair e'en ! What wad ye gie to ken what's in the inside o' 
 this letter? — This is new com — I haena seen the like o' this — For 
 William Lovel, Esquire, at Mrs. Hadoway's, High-street, Fairport, 
 by Edinburgh, N.B. This is just the second letter he has had 
 since he was here." 
 
 "Lord's sake, let's see, lass! Lord's sake, let's see! — that's him 
 that the hale town kens naething about — and a weel-fa'ard lad he 
 is ; let's see, let's see !" Thus ejaculated the two worthy repre- 
 sentatives of mother Eve. 
 
 " Na, na, leddies," exclaimed Mrs. Mailsetter ; " haud awa — bide 
 aff, I tell you — this is nane o' your fourpenny cuts that we might 
 make up the value to the post-office amang ourselves if ony mis- 
 chance befell it; — the postage is five-and-twenty shillings — and 
 here's an order frae the Secretary to forward it to the young 
 gentleman by express, if he's no at hame. Na, na, leddies, bide 
 aff; this maunna be roughly guided." 
 
 " But just let's look at the outside o't, woman." 
 
 Nothing could be gathered from the outside, except remarks on 
 the various properties which philosophers ascribe to matter, — 
 length, breadth, depth, and weight. The packet was composed of 
 strong thick paper, imperviable by the curious eyes of the gossips, 
 though they stared as if they would burst from their sockets. The 
 seal was a deep and well-cut impression of arms, which defied all 
 tampering. 
 
 " Od, lass,'' said Mrs. Shortcake, weighing it in her hand, and 
 wishing, doubtless, that the too, too solid wax would melt and dis- 
 solve itself, " I wad like to ken what's in the inside o' this, for that 
 Lovel dings a' that ever set foot on the plainstanes o' Fairport — 
 naebody kens what to mak o' him." 
 
 "Weel, weel, leddies," said the postmistress, "we'se sit down 
 and crack about it. — Baby, bring ben the tea-water — Muckle 
 obliged to ye for your cookies, Mrs. Shortcake — and we'll steek 
 the shop, and cry ben Baby, and take a hand at the cartes till 
 the gudeman comes hame — and then we'll try your braw veal 
 
126 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 sweetbread that ye were so kind as send me, Mrs. Heuk- 
 bane." 
 
 "But winna ye first send awa Mr. Lovel's letter?" said Mrs. 
 Heukbane. 
 
 " Troth I kenna wha to send wi't till the gudeman comes hame, 
 for auld Caxon tell'd me that Mr. Lovel stays a' the day at Monk- 
 barns— he's in a high fever wi' pu'ing the laird and Sir Arthur out 
 o' the sea." 
 
 "Silly auld "doited carles !" said Mrs. Shortcake; "what gar'd 
 them gang to the douking in a night like yestreen ?" 
 
 " I was gi'en to understand it was auld Edie that saved them," 
 said Mrs. Heukbane ; " Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-Gown, ye ken — 
 and that he pu'd the hale three out of the auld fish-pound, for 
 Monkbarns had threepit on them to gang in till't to see the wark o' ' 
 the monks lang syne." 
 
 " Hout, lass, nonsense ! " answered the postmistress ; " III tell 
 ye a' about it, as Caxon tell'd it to me. Ye see, Sir Arthur and 
 Miss Wardour, and Mr. Lovel, suld hae dined at Monkbarns " 
 
 " But, Mrs. Mailsetter," again interrupted Mrs. Heukbane, " will 
 ye no be for sending awa this letter by express ? there's our powny 
 and our callant hae gane express for the of&ce or now, and the 
 powny hasna gane abune thirty mile the day ; — ^Jock was sorting 
 him up as I came ower by." 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Heilkbane," said the woman of letters, pursing up 
 her mouth, " ye ken my gudeman likes to ride the expresses him- 
 seU — we maun gie our ain fish-guts to our ain sea-maws — it's a red 
 half-guinea to him every time he munts his mear — and I dare say 
 he'll be in sune — or I dare to say, it's the same thing whether the 
 gentleman gets the express this night or early next morning." 
 
 " Only that Mr. Lovel will be in town before the express gaes 
 aff," said Mrs. Heukbane, " and whare are ye then, lass ? — but ye 
 ken yere ain ways best." 
 
 " Weel, weel, Mrs. Heukbane," answered Mrs. Mailsetter, a little 
 out of humour, and even out of countenance, " I am sure I am 
 never against being neighbour-like, and living and letting live/ as 
 they say ; and since I hae been sic a fule as to show you the post- 
 office order — ou, nae doubt, it maun be obeyed — ^but I'll no need 
 your callant, mony thanks to ye — I'll send little Davie on your powny, 
 and that wiU be just five-and-threepence to ilka ane o' us, ye ken." 
 
 " Davie ! the Lord help ye, the bairn's no ten year auld ; and, to 
 be plain wi' ye, our powny reists a bit, and it's dooms sweer to 
 the road, and naebody can manage him but our Jock." 
 
 " I'm sorry for that," answered the postmistress, gravely ; " it's 
 like we maun wait then till the gudeman comes hame, after a' — for 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 127 
 
 I wadna like to be responsible in trusting the letter to sic a callant 
 as Jock — our Davie belangs in a manner to the office." 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, Mrs. Mailsetter, I see what ye wad be at — but an 
 ye like to risk the bairn, I'll risk the beast." 
 
 Orders were accordingly given. The unwilling pony was brought 
 out of his bed of straw, and again equipped for service — Davie (a 
 leathern post-bag strapped across his shoulders) was perched upon 
 the saddle, with a tear in his eye, and a switch in his hand. Jock 
 good-naturedly led the animal out of the town, and, by the crack 
 of his whip, and the whoop and halloo of his too well-known voice, 
 compelled it to take the road towards Monkbarns. 
 
 Meanwhile the gossips, like the sibyls after consulting their 
 leaves, arranged and combined the information of the evening, 
 which flew next morning through a hundred channels, and in a 
 hundred varieties, through the world of Fairport. Many, strange, 
 and inconsistent, were the rumours to which their communications 
 and conjectures gave rise. Some said Tennant & Co. were broken, 
 and that all their bills had come back protested — others that they 
 had got a great contract from Government, and letters from the 
 principal merchants at Glasgow, desiring to have shares upon a 
 premium. One report stated, that Lieutenant Taffril had acknow- 
 ledged a private marriage with Jenny Caxon — another, that he had 
 sent her a letter upbraiding her with the lowness of her birth and 
 education, and bidding her an eternal adieu. It was generally 
 rumoured that Sir Arthur Wardour's affairs had fallen into irre- 
 trievable confusion, and this report was only doubted by the wise, 
 because it was traced to Mrs. Mailsetter's shop, a source more 
 famous for the circulation of news than for their accuracy. But all 
 agreed that a packet from the Secretary of State's office had arrived, 
 directed for Mr. Lovel, and that it had been forwarded by an orderly 
 dragoon, dispatched from the head-quarters at Edinburgh, who had 
 galloped through Fairport without stopping, except just to inquire 
 the way to Monkbarns. The reason of such an extraordinary 
 mission to a very peaceful and retired individual, was variously 
 explained. Some said Lovel was an emigrant noble, summoned to 
 head an insurrection that had broken out in La Vendee — others 
 that he was a spy— others that he was a general officer, who was 
 visiting the coast privately — others that he was a prince of the 
 blood, who was travelling incognito. 
 
 Meanwhile the progress of the packet which occasioned so much 
 speculation, towards its destined owner at Monkbarns, had been 
 perilous and interrupted. The bearer, Davie Mailsetter, as little 
 resembling a bold dragoon as could well be imagined, was carried 
 onwards towards Monkbarns by the pony, so long as the animal 
 
128 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 f 
 
 had in his recollection the crack of his usual instrument of chastise- 
 ment, and the shout of the butcher's boy. But feeling how Davie, 
 whose short legs were unequal to maintain his balance, swung to 
 and fro upon his back, the pony began to disdain further com- 
 pliance with the intimations he had received. First, then, he 
 slackened his pace to a walk. This was no point of quarrel 
 between him and his rider, who had been considerably discom-- 
 posed by the rapidity of his former motion, and who now took the 
 opportunity of his abated pace to gnaw a piece of gingerbread, 
 which had been thrust into his hand .by his mother in order to re- 
 concile this youthful emissary of the post-ofSce to the discharge of 
 his duty. By and by, the crafty pony availed himself of this sur- 
 cease of discipline to twitch the rein out of Davie's hands, and 
 apply himself to browse on the grass by the side of the lane. 
 Sorely astounded by these symptoms of self-willed rebellion, and 
 afraid alike to sit or to fall, poor Davie lifted up his voice and wept 
 aloud. The pony, hearing this pudder over his head, began appa- 
 rently to think it would be best both for himself and Davie to 
 return from whence they came, and accordingly commenced a 
 retrograde movement towards Fairport. But, as all retreats are 
 apt to end in utter rout, so the steed, alarmed by the boy's cries, 
 and by the flapping of the reins, which dangled about his forefeet 
 — finding also his nose turned homeward, began to set off at a rate 
 which, if Davie kept the saddle (a matter extremely dubious), 
 would soon have presented him at Heukbane's stable-door, when, 
 at a turn of the road, an intervening auxiliary, in the shape of old 
 Edie Ochiltree, caught hold of the rein, and stopped his farther 
 proceeding. "Wha's aught ye, callant? whaten a gate's that to 
 ride ?" 
 
 " I canna help it ! " blubbered the express ; " they ca' me little 
 Davie." 
 
 "And where are ye gaun?" 
 
 " I'm gaun to Monkbarns wi' a letter." 
 
 " Stirra, this is no the road to Monkbarns." 
 
 But Davie could only answer the expostulation with sighs and 
 tears. 
 
 Old Edie was easily moved to compassion where childhood was 
 in the case. — " I wasna gaun that gate," he thought, " but it's the 
 best o' my way o' life that I canna be weel out o' my road. They'll 
 gie me quarters at Monkbarns readily eneugh, and I'll e'en hirple 
 awa there wi' the wean, for it will knock its hams out, puir thing, 
 if there's no somebody to guide the pony. — ^— Sae ye hae a letter, 
 hinney ? will ye let me see't ?" 
 
 " I'm no gaun to let naebody see the letter,'' sobbed the boy. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 129 
 
 " till I gie't to Mr. Lovel, for I am a faithfu' servant o' the office — 
 if it werena for the powny." 
 
 " Very right, my little man," said Ochiltree, turning the reluctant 
 pony's head towards Monkbarns ; " but we'll guide him atween us, 
 if he's no a' the sweerer." 
 
 Upon the very height of Kinprunes, to which Monkbarns had 
 invited Lovel after their dinner, the Antiquary, again reconciled to 
 the once degraded spot, was expatiating upon the topics the scenery 
 afforded for a description of Agricola's camp at the dawn of morn- 
 ing, when his eye was caught by the appearance of the mendicant 
 and his protdgd " What the devil ! — -here comes old Edie, bag 
 and baggage, I think." 
 
 The beggar explained his errand, and Davie, who insisted upon 
 a literal execution of his commission by going on to Monkbarns, 
 was with difficulty prevailed upon to surrender the packet to its 
 proper owner, although he met him a mile nearer than the place 
 he had been directed to. " But my minnie said, I maun be sure 
 to get twenty shillings and five shillings for the postage, and ten 
 shillings and sixpence for the express — there's the paper." 
 
 " Let me see — let me see," said Oldbuck, putting on his spec- 
 tacles, and examining the crumpled copy of regulations to which 
 Davie appealed. " Express, per man and horse, one day, not to 
 exceed ten shillings and sixpence — One day ? why, it's not an hour 
 ■ — Man and horse ? why, 'tis a monkey on a starved cat ! " 
 
 " Father wad hae come himsell," said Davie, " on the muckle 
 red mear, an ye wad hae bidden till the morn's night." 
 
 " Four-and-twenty hours after the regular date of delivery — You 
 little cockatrice egg, do you understand the art of imposition so 
 early?" 
 
 " Hout, Monkbarns ! dinna set your wit against a bairn," said 
 the beggar ; " mind the butcher risked his beast, and the wife her 
 wean, and I am sure ten and sixpence isna ower muckle. Ye didna 
 gang sae near wi' Johnnie Howie, when " 
 
 Lovel, who, sitting on the supposed Pratorium, had glanced 
 over the contents of the packet, now put an end to the altercation 
 by paying Davie's demand; and then turning to Mr. Oldbuck, 
 with a look of much agitation, he excused himself from returning 
 with him to Monkbarns that evening.-^" I must instantly go to 
 Fairport, and perhaps leave it on a moment's notice ; your kind- 
 ness, Mr. Oldbuck, I never can forget." 
 
 " No bad news, I hope ? " said the Antiquary. 
 
 " Of a very chequered complexion," answered his friend — " Fare^ 
 well — in good or bad fortune I will not forget your regard." 
 
 " Nay, nay — sop a moment. . If— if— " (making an effort) — " if 
 
I3» THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 there be any pecuniary inconvenience — I have fifty or a hun- 
 dred guineas at your service— till — till Whitsunday — or indeed as 
 long as you please." 
 
 " I am much obliged, Mr. Oldbuck, but I am amply provided," 
 said his mysterious young friend. " Excuse me — I really cannot 
 sustain further conversation at present. I will write or see you, 
 before I leave Fairport — that is, if I find myself obliged to go." 
 So saying, he shook the Antiquary's hand warmly, turned from 
 him, and walked rapidly towards the town, " staying no longer 
 question." 
 
 " Very extraordinary indeed ! " said Oldbuck ; " but there's some- 
 thing about this lad I can never fathom ; and yet I cannot for 
 my heart think ill of him neither. I must go home and take off 
 the fire in the Green-Room, for none of my womankind will ven- 
 ture into it after twilight." 
 
 " And how am I to win hame ? " blubbered the disconsolate 
 express. 
 
 " It's a fine night," said the Blue-Gown, looking up to the skies ; 
 " I had as gude gang back to the town, and take care o' the wean." 
 
 " Do so, do so, Edie ; " and, rummaging for some time in his 
 huge waistcoat pocket till he found the object of his search, the 
 Antiquary added, " there's sixpence to ye to buy sneeshin." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal has 
 not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged ; it 
 could not be else. I have drunk medicines." 
 
 Second Part of Henry IV. 
 
 Regular for a fortnight were the inquiries of the Antiquary at 
 the veteran Caxon, whether he had heard what Mr. Lovel was 
 about ; and as regular were Caxon's answers, " that the town could 
 learn naetbing about him whatever, except that he had received 
 anither muclde letter or twa frae the south, and that he was never 
 seen on the plain stanes at a'." 
 
 " How does he live, Caxon ? " 
 
 " Ou, Mrs. Hadoway just dresses him a beefsteak or a mutton- 
 chop, or makes him some Friar's chicken, or just what she likes 
 hersell, and he eats it in the little red parlour off his bedroom. She 
 canna get him to say that he likes ae thing better than anither ; 
 and she makes him tea in a morning, and he settles honourably wi' 
 her every week." 
 
 " But does he never stir abroad ? " , " .,■ 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 131 
 
 " He has clean gi'en up walking, and he sits a' day in his room 
 reading or writing ; a hantle letters he has written, but he wadna 
 put them into our post-house, though Mrs. Hadoway offered to 
 carry them hersell, but sent them a' under ae cover to the sheriff ; 
 and it's Mrs. Mailsetter's belief, that the sheriff sent his groom to 
 put them into the post office at Tannonburgh ; it's my puir thought, 
 that he jaloused their looking into his letters at Fairport ; and weel 
 had he need, for my puir daughter Jenny " 
 
 " Tut, don't plague me with your womankind, Caxon. About this 
 poor young lad — Does he write nothing but letters ? " 
 
 " Ou, ay — hale sheets o' other things, Mrs. Hadoway says. She 
 wishes muckle he could be gotten to take a walk ; she thinks he's 
 but looking very puirly, and his appetite's clean gane ; but he'll no 
 hear o' ganging ower the door-stane — him that used to walk sae 
 muckle, too." 
 
 " That's vrtong ; I have a guess what he's busy about ; but he 
 must not work too hard neither. I'll go and see him this very day 
 — he's deep, doubtless, in the Caledoniad." 
 
 Having formed this manful resohition, Mr. Oldbuck equipped 
 himself for the expedition with his thick walking-shoes and gold- 
 headed cane, muttering the while the words of Falstaff which we 
 have chosen for the motto of this chapter ; for the Antiquary was 
 himself rather surprised at the degree of attachment which he 
 could not but acknowledge he entertained for this stranger. The 
 riddle was notwithstanding easily solved. Lovel had many attrac- 
 tive qualities, but he won our Antiquary's heart by being on most 
 occasions an excellent listener. 
 
 A walk to Fairport had become somewhat of an adventure with 
 Mr. Oldbuck, and one which he did not often care to undertake. 
 He hated greetings in the market-place ; and there were generally 
 loiterers in the streets to persecute him, either about the news of 
 the day, or about some petty pieces of business. So, on this occa- 
 sion, he had no sooner entered the streets of Fairport, than it was 
 " Good-morrow, Mr. Oldbuck — a sight o' you's gude for sair een — 
 what d'ye think of 'the news in the Sun the day? — they say the 
 great attempt wiU be made in a fortnight." 
 
 " I wish to the Lord it were made and over, that I might hear 
 no more about it." 
 
 <' Monkbarns, your honour," said the nursery and seedsman, * I 
 hope the plants gied satisfaction .■' and if ye wanted ony flower- 
 roots fresh frae HoUand, or " (this in a lower key) " an anker or 
 twa o' Cologne gin, ane o' our brigs cam in yestreen." 
 
 " Thank ye, thank ye, — no occasion at present, Mr. Crabtree," 
 said the Antiquary, pushing resolutely onward. 
 
 I 2 
 
132 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " Mr. Oldbuck," said the town-clerk (a more important person, 
 who came in front and ventured to stop the old gentleman), " the 
 provost, understanding you were in town, begs on no account that 
 you'll quit it without seeing him ; he wants to speak to ye about 
 bringing the water frae the Fairwell spring through a part o' your 
 lands." 
 
 " What the deuce ! — have they 'nobody's land but mine to cut 
 and carve on ? — I won't consent, tell them." 
 
 " And the provost," said the clerk, going on, without noticing the 
 rebuff, " and the council, wad be agreeable that you should hae the 
 auld stanes at Donagild's chapel, that ye was wussing to hae." 
 
 " Eh ?— what ?— Oho ! that's another story— Well, well, I'll call 
 upon the provost, and we'll talk about it." 
 
 " But ye maun speak your mind on't forthwith, Monkbarns, if ye 
 want the stanes ; for Deacon Harlewalls thinks the carved through- 
 stanes might be put with advantage on the front of the new 
 council-house — that is, the twa-cross-legged figures that the callants 
 ussd to ca' Robbin and Bobbin, ane on ilka door-cheek ; and the 
 other stane, that they ca'd Ailie Dailie, abune the door. It will be 
 very tastefu', the Deacon says, and just in the style of modera 
 Gothic." 
 
 " Good Lord deliver me from this Gothic generation ! " ex- 
 claimed the Antiquary, — a monument of a knight-templar on each 
 side of a Grecian porch, and a Madonna on the top of it ! — 
 crimini ! — Well, tell the provost I wish to have the stones, and 
 we'll not differ about the water-course. — It's lucky I happened ta 
 come this way to-day." 
 
 They parted mutually satisfied ; but the wily clerk, had most 
 reason to exult in the dexterity he had displayed, since the whole 
 proposal of an exchange between the monuments (which the 
 council had determined to remove as a nuisance, because they 
 encroached three feet upon the public road) and the privilege of 
 conveying the water to the burgh, through the estate of Monkbarns, 
 was an idea which had originated with himself upon the pressure 
 of the moment. 
 
 Through these various entanglements, Monkbarns (to use the 
 phrase by which he was distinguished in the country) made his way 
 at length to Mrs. Hadoway's. This good woman was the widow 
 of a late clergyman at Fairport, who had been reduced, by her 
 husband's untimely death, to that state of straitened and embar- 
 rassed circumstances in which the widows of the Scotch clergy are 
 too often found. The tenement which she occupied, and the furni- 
 ture of which she was possessed, gave her the means of letting a 
 part of her house ; and as Lovel had been a quiet, regular, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 133 
 
 profitable lodger, and had qualified the necessary intercourse which 
 they had together with a great deal of gentleness and courtesy, 
 Mrs. Hadoway, not, perhaps, much used to such kindly treatment, 
 had become greatly attached to her lodger, and was profuse in 
 every sort of personal attention which circumstances permitted 
 her to render him. To cook a dish somewhat better than ordinary 
 for "the poor young gentleman's dinner;" to exert her interest 
 with those who remembered her husband, or loved her for her own 
 sake and his, in order to procure scarce vegetables, or something 
 which her simplicity supposed might tempt her lodger's appetite, 
 was a labour in which she delighted, although she anxiously con- 
 cealed it from the person who was its object. She did not adopt 
 this secrecy of benevolence to avoid the laugh of those who might 
 suppose that an oval face and dark eyes, wich a clear brown com- 
 plexion, though belonging to a woman of five-and-forty, and 
 enclosed within a widow's close-drawn pinners, might possibly still 
 aim at making conquests ; for, to say truth, such a ridiculous 
 suspicion having never entered into her own head, she could not 
 anticipate its having birth in that of anyone else. But she con- 
 cealed her attentions solely out of delicacy to her guest, whose 
 power of repaying them she doubted as much as she believed in 
 his inclination to do so, and in his being likely to feel extreme pain 
 at leaving any of her civilities unrequited. She now opened the 
 door to Mr. Oldbuck, and her surprise at seeing him brorght tears 
 into her eyes, which she could hardly restrain. 
 
 " I am glad to see you, sir — I am very glad to see you. My poor 
 poor gentleman is, I am afraid, very unwell ; and O Mr. Oldbuck, 
 he'll see neither doctor, nor minister, nor writer ! And think what 
 it would be, if, as my poor Mr. Hadoway used to say, a man was 
 to die without advice of the three learned faculties ! " 
 
 " Greatly better than with them," grumbled the cynical Anti- 
 quary. " I tell you, Mrs. Hadoway, the clergy live by our sins, 
 the medical faculty by our diseases, and the law gentry by our mis- 
 fortunes." 
 
 " O fie, Monkbarns, to hear the like o' that frae you ! — But ye'U 
 walk up and see the poor young lad ! — Hegh sirs ! sae young and 
 weel-favoured — and day by day he has eat less and less, and now 
 he hardly touches onything, only just pits a bit on the plate to make 
 fashion, and his poor cheek has turned every day thinner and paler, 
 sae that he now really looks as auld as me, that might be his mother 
 — no that I might 'be just that neither, but something very near it." 
 
 " Why does he not take some exercise ? " said Oldbuck. 
 
 " I think we have persuaded him to do that, for he has bought a 
 horse from Gibbie Golightly, the galloping groom. A gude judge 
 
134 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 o' horse-flesh Gibbie tauld our lass that he was — for he offered him 
 a beast he thought wad answer him. Weel eneugh, as he was a book- 
 ish man, but Mr. Lovel wadna look at it, and bought ane might 
 serve the Master o' Morphie — they keep it at the Graeme's Arms, 
 ower the street ; — and he rode out yesterday morning and this 
 morning before breakfast — But winna ye walk up to his room ? " 
 
 " Presently, presently'; but has he no visitors?" 
 
 " O dear, Mr. Oldbuck, not ane ; if he wadna receive them when 
 he was weel and sprightly, what chance is there of onybody in 
 Fairport looking in upon him now ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, very true — I should have been surprised had it been 
 otherwise — Come, show me up stairs, Mrs. Hadoway,lest I make a 
 blunder, and go where I should not." 
 
 The good landlady showed Mr. Oldbuck up her narrow staircase, 
 warning him of every turn, and lamenting all the while that he 
 was laid under the neeessity of mounting up so high. At length 
 she gently tapped at the door of her guest's parlour " Come in," 
 said Lovel ; and Mrs. Hadoway ushered in the Laird of Monkbarns. 
 
 The little apartment was neat and clean, and decently furnished 
 — ornamented, too, by such relics of her youthful arts of sempstress- 
 ship as Mrs. Hadoway had retained ; but it was close, overheated, 
 and, as it appeared to Oldbuck, an unwholesome situation for a 
 yovmg person in delicate health, an observation which ripened his 
 resolution touching a project that had already occurred to him in 
 Level's behalf. With a writing-table before him, on which lay a 
 quantity of books and papers, Lovel was seated on a couch, in his 
 night-gown and slippers. Oldbuck was shocked at the change 
 which had taken place in his personal appearance. His cheek and 
 brow had assumed a ghastly white, except where a round bright spot 
 of hectic red formed a strong and painful contrast, totally different' 
 from the general cast of hale and hardy complexion which had 
 formerly overspread and somewhat embrowned his countenance. 
 Oldbuck observed, that the dress he wore belonged to a deep 
 mourning suit, and a coat of the same colour hung on a chair near 
 to him. As the Antiquary entered, Lovel arose and came forward 
 to welcome him. 
 
 " This is very kind," he said, shaking him by the hand, and 
 thanking him warmly for his visit ; " this is very kind, and has 
 anticipated a visit with which I intended to trouble you — You must 
 know I have become a horseman lately." 
 
 " I understand as much from Mrs. Hadoway — I only hope, my 
 good young friend, you have been fortunate in a quiet horse — I 
 myself inadvertently bought one from the said Gibbie Golightly, 
 which brute ran two miles on end with me after a pack of hounds, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 13S 
 
 with which I had no more to do than the last year's snow ; and 
 after affording infinite amusement, I suppose, to the whole hunting 
 field, he was so good as to deposit me in a dry ditch — I hope yours 
 is a more peaceM beast ? " 
 
 " I hope, at least, we shall make our excursions on a better plan 
 -of mutual understanding." 
 
 " That is to say, you think yourself a good horseman ? " 
 
 " I would not willingly," answered Lovel, " confess myself a very 
 bad one." 
 
 " No ; all you young fellows think that would be equal to calling 
 yourselves tailors at once— But have you had experience ? for, 
 crede experto, a horse in a passion is no joker." 
 
 " Why, I should be sorry to boast myself as a great horseman ; 
 but when I acted as aid-de-camp to Sir in the cavalry- 
 action at , last year, I saw many better cavaliers than myself 
 
 dismounted." 
 
 " Ah ! you have looked in tjie face of the grisly God of arms 
 then ? — you are acquainted with the frowns of Mars armipotent ? 
 That experience fills up the measure of your qualifications for the 
 epopea ! The Britons, however, you will remember, fought in 
 chariots — covinarii is the phrase of Tacitus ; — you recollect the 
 fine description of their dashing among the Roman infantry, 
 although the historian tells us how ill the rugged face of the 
 ground was calculated for equestrian combat— and truly, upon the 
 whole, what sort of chariots could be driven in Scotland anywhere 
 but on turnpike roads, has been to me always matter of amaze- 
 ment. And well now — has the Muse visited you ? — Have you got 
 anything to show me ? " 
 
 " My time," said Lovel, with a glance at his black di-ess, " has 
 been less pleasantly employed." 
 
 " The death of a friend ? " said the Antiquary. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Oldbuck; of almost the only friend I could ever 
 boast of possessing." 
 
 " Indeed ? well, young man," replied his visitor, in a tone of seri- 
 ousness very different from his affected gravity — " be comforted — 
 to have lost a friend by death while your mutual regard was warm 
 and unchilled, while the tear can drop unembittered by any. painful 
 recollection of coldness or distrust or treachery, is perhaps an escape 
 from a more heavy dispensation. Look round you — how few do you 
 see grow old in the affections of those with whom their early friend- 
 ships were formed ! Our sources of common pleasure gradually dry 
 up as we journey on through the vale of Bacca, and we hew out to 
 ourselves other reservoirs, from which the first companions of our 
 pilgrim^age are excluded; — jealousies, rivalries, envy, intervene to 
 
136 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 separate others from our side, until none remain but those who are 
 connected with us rather by habit than predilection, or who, allied 
 more in blood than in disposition, only keep the old man company 
 in his life, that they may not be forgotten at his death — 
 
 1 Hcec data poena diu viventibus — 
 
 Ah, Mr. Lovel ! if it be your lot to reach the chill, cloudy, and 
 comfortless evening of life, you will remember the sorrows of your 
 youth as the light shadowy clouds that intercepted for a moment the 
 beams of the sun when it was rising.— But 1 cram these words into 
 your ears against the stomach of your sense." 
 
 " I am sensible of your kindness," answered the youth ; " but 
 the wound that is of recent infliction must always smart severely, 
 and I should be little comforted under my present calamity — 
 forgive me for saying so — by the conviction that life had nothing 
 in reserve for me but a train of successive sorrows. And permit 
 me to add, you, Mr. Oldbuck, have least reason of many men to 
 take so gloomy a view of life — you have a competent and easy 
 fortune — are generally respected — may, in your own phrase, vacare 
 musts, indulge yourself in the researches to which your taste 
 addicts you — ^you may form your own society without-doors, and 
 within you have the affectionate and sedulous attention of the 
 nearest relatives." 
 
 "Why, yes; the womankind, — for womankind, — are, thanks to 
 my training, very civil and tractable — do not disturb me in my 
 morning studies — creep across the floor with the stealthy pace of 
 a cat, when it suits me to take a nap in my easy-chair after dinner 
 or tea. All this is very well ; — but I want something to exchange 
 ideas with — something to talk to." 
 
 " Then why do you not invite your nephew, Captain M'Intyre, 
 who is mentioned by every one as a fine-spirited young fellow, to 
 become a member of your family ? " 
 
 "Who?" exclaimed Monkbarns, "my nephew Hector? — the 
 Hotspur of the North i" — Why, Heaven love you, I would as soon 
 invite a firebrand into my stackyard — he's an Almanzor, a Cha- 
 mont— has a Highland pedigree as long as his claymore, and a 
 claymore as long as the High Street of Fairport, which he un- 
 sheathed upon the surgeon the last time he was at Fairport— I 
 expect him here one of these days ; but I will keep him at staff's 
 end, I promise you — He an inmate of my house ! to make my very 
 chairs and tables tremble at his brawls — No, no, I'll none of 
 Hector M'Intyre. But hark ye, Lovel; you are a quietj gentle- 
 tempered lad ;■ had not you better set up your staff at Monkbarns 
 for a month or two, since I conclude you do not immediately 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 137 
 
 intend to leave this country ? — I will have a door opened out to the 
 garden — it will cost but a trifle — there is the space for an old one 
 which was condemned long ago— by which said door you may pass 
 and repass into the Green Chamber at pleasure, so you will not 
 interfere with the old man, nor he with you. As for your fare, 
 Mrs. Hadoway tells me you are, as she terms it, very moderate 
 of your mouth, so you will not quarrel with my humble table. 
 Your washing" 
 
 "Hold, my dear Mr. Oldbuck," interposed Lovel, unable to 
 repress a smile ; " and before your hospitality settles all my ac- 
 commodations, let me thank you most sincerely for so kind an 
 offer — it is not at present in my power to accept of it ; but verj- 
 likely, before I bid adieu to Scotland, I shall find an opportunity 
 to pay you a visit of some length." 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck's countenance fell. " Why, I thought I had hit on 
 the very arrangement that would suit us both, and who knows 
 what might happen in the long run, and whether we might ever 
 part ? — Why, I am master of my acres, man — there is the advan- 
 tage of being descended from a man of more sense than pride — 
 they cannot oblige me to transmit my goods, chattels, and heri- 
 tages, any way but as I please. No string of substitute heirs of 
 entail, as empty and unsubstantial as the morsels of paper strung 
 to the train of a boy's kite, to cumber my flights of inclination, and 
 my humours of predilection. Well, — I see you won't be tempted 
 at present — But Caledonia goes on, I hope ? " 
 
 " O, certainly," said Lovel ; " I cannot think of relinquishing a 
 plan so hopeful." 
 
 "It is indeed," said the Antiquary, looking gravely upward, — 
 for, though shrewd and acute enough in estimating the variety of 
 plans formed by others, he had a very natural, though rather dis- 
 proportioned, good opinion of the importance of those which 
 originated with himself — " It is indeed one of those undertakings 
 which, if achieved with spirit equal to that which dictates its con- 
 ception, may redeem from the charge of frivolity the literature of 
 the present generation." 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a knock at the room-door, which 
 introduced a letter for Mr. Lovel. The servant waited, Mrs. 
 Hadoway said, for an answer. " You are concerned in this matter, 
 Mr. Oldbuck," said Lovel, after glancing over the billet, and hand- 
 ing it to the Antiquary as he spoke. 
 
 It was a letter from Sir Arthur Wardour, couched in extremely 
 civil language, regretting that a fit of the gout had prevented his 
 hitherto showing Mr. Lovel the attentions to which his conduct 
 during a late perilous occasion had so well entitled him — apolo- 
 
138 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 gizing for not paying his respects in person, but hoping Mr. Lovel 
 would dispense with that ceremony, and be a member of a small 
 party which proposed to visit the ruins of Saint Ruth's priory on 
 the following day, and afterwards to dine and spend the evening at 
 Knockwinnock castle. Sir Arthur concluded with saying, that he 
 had sent to request the Monkbarns family to join the party of 
 pleasure which he thus proposed. The place of rendezvous was 
 fixed at a turnpike-gate, which was about an equal distance from 
 all the points from which the company were to assemble. 
 
 "What. shall we do?" said Lovel, looking at the Antiquary, but 
 pretty certain of the part he would take. 
 
 " Go, man — we'll go, by all means. Let me see — it will cost a 
 post-chaise though, which will hold you and me, and Mary 
 M'Intyre, very well, and the other womankind may go to the 
 manse, and you can come out in the chiase to Monkbarns, as I 
 will take it for the day." 
 
 " Why, I rather think I had better ride." 
 
 " True, true, I forgot your Bucephalus. You are a foolish lad, 
 by-the-by, for purchasing the brute outright; you should stick to 
 eighteenpence a side, if you will trust any creature's legs in 
 preference to your own." 
 
 " Why, as the horses have the advantage of moving considerably 
 faster, and are, besides, two pair to one, I own I incline " 
 
 " Enough said — enough said — do as you please. Well then, I'll 
 bring either Grizel or the minister, for I love to have my full 
 pennyworth out of post-horses — and we meet at Tirlingen turn- 
 pike on Friday, at twelve o'clock precisely." — And with this agree- 
 ment the friends separated. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Of seats they tell, where priests, 'mid tapers dim. 
 Breathed the warm prayer, or tuned the midnight hymn ; 
 To jcenes like these the fainting soul retired ; 
 Revenge and Anger in these cells expired : 
 By Pity soothed. Remorse lost half her fears. 
 And soften'd Pride dropp'd penitential tears." 
 
 Crabbe's Borough. 
 
 The morning of Friday was as serene and beautiful as if 
 no pleasure party had been intended; and that is a rare event, 
 whether in novel-writing or real life. Lovel, who felt the genial 
 influence of the weather, and rejoiced at the prospect of once more 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 139 
 
 meeting with Miss Wardour, trotted forward to the place of 
 rendezvous with better spirits than he had for sometime enjoyed. 
 His prospects seemed in many respects to open and brighten 
 before him, and hope, although breaking like the morning sun 
 through clouds and showers, appeared now about to illuminate the 
 path before him. He was, as might have been expected from this 
 state of spirits, first at the place of meeting, and, as might also 
 have been anticipated, his looks were so intently directed towards 
 the road from Knockwinnock Castle, that he was only apprised of the 
 arrival of the Monkbarns division by the gee-hupping of the postilion, 
 as the post-chaise lumbered up behind him. In this vehicle were 
 pent up, first, the stately figure of Mr. Oldbuck himself ; secondly, 
 the scaixe less portly person of the Reverend Mr. Blattergowl, 
 minister of Trotcosey, the parish in which Monkbarns and Knock- 
 winnock were both situated. The reverend gentleman was equipped 
 in a buzz wig, upon the top of which was an equilateral cocked hat. 
 This was the paragon of the three yet remaining wigs of the 
 parish, which differed, as Monkbarns used to remark, Uke the 
 three degrees of comparison — Sir Arthur's ramilies being the posi- 
 tive, his own bob-wig the comparative, and the overwhelming 
 grizzle of the worthy clergyman figuring as the superlative. The 
 superintendent of these antique garnitures, deeming, or affecting to 
 deem, that he could not well be absent on an occasion which 
 assembled all three together, had seated himself on the board 
 behind the carriage, "just to be in the way in case they wanted a 
 touch before the gentlemen sat down to dinner." Between the two 
 massive figures of Monkbarns and the clergyman was stuck, by 
 way of bodkin, the slim form of Mary M'lntyre, her aunt having 
 preferred a visit to the manse, and a social chat with Miss Beckie 
 Blattergowl, to investigating the ruins of the priory of Saint Ruth. 
 
 As greetings passed between the members of the Monkbarns 
 party and Mr. Lovel, the Baronet's carriage, an open barouche, 
 swept onward to the place of appointment, making, with its 
 smoking bays, smart drivers, arms, blazoned panels, and a brace 
 of outriders, a strong contrast with the battered vehicle and broken- 
 winded hacks which had brought thither the Antiquary and his 
 followers. The principal seat of the carriage was occupied by Sir 
 Arthur and his daughter. At the first glance which passed betwixt 
 Miss Wardour and Lovel, her colour rose considerably; but she 
 had apparently made up her mind to receive him as a friend, and 
 only as such, and there was equal composure and courtesy in the 
 mode of her reply to his fluttered salutation. Sir Arthur halted the 
 barouche to shake his preserver kindly by the hand, and intimate 
 the pleasure he had on this opportunity of returning him his per- 
 
I40 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 sQnal thanks ; then mentioned to him, in a tone of slight intro- 
 duction, " Mr. Dousterswivel, Mr. Lovel." 
 
 Lovel took the necessary notice of the German adept, who occu- 
 pied the front seat of the carriage, which is usually conferred upon 
 dependents or inferiors. The ready grin and supple inclination 
 with which his salutation, though slight, was answered by the 
 foreigner, increased the internal dislike which Lovel had already 
 conceived towards him ; and it was plain, from the lour of the 
 Antiquary's shaggy eye-brow, that he too looked with displeasure 
 on this addition to the company. Little more than distant greeting 
 passed among the members of the party, until, having rolled on for 
 about three miles beyond the place at which they met, the carriages 
 :t length stopped at the sign of the Four I^orse-shoes, a small 
 hedge inn, where Caxon humbly opened the door, and let down the 
 step of the hack-chaise, while the inmates of the barouche were, by 
 their more courtly attendants, assisted to leave their equipage. 
 
 Here renewed greetings passed : the young ladies shook hands ; 
 and Oldbuck, completely in his element, placed himself as guide 
 and cicerone at the head of the party, who were now to advance on 
 foot towards the object of their curiosity. He took care to detain 
 Lovel close beside him as the best listener of the party, and occasion- 
 ally glanced a word of explanation and instruction to Miss Wardour 
 and Mary M'Intyre, who followed next in order. The Baronet and 
 the clergyman he rather avoided, as he was aware both of them 
 conceived they understood such matters as well, or better, than he 
 did ; and Dousterswivel, besides that he looked on him as a char- 
 latan, was so nearly connected with his apprehended loss in the 
 stock of the mining company, that he could not abide the sight of 
 him. These two latter satellites, therefore, attended upon the orb 
 of Sir Arthur, to whom, moreover, as the most important person 
 of the society, they were naturally induced to attach themselves. 
 
 It frequently happens that the most beautiful points of Scottish 
 scenery lie hidden in some sequestered dell, and that you may 
 travel through the country in every direction without being aware 
 of your vicinity to what is well worth seeing, unless intention or 
 accident carry you to the very spot. This is particularly the case 
 in the country around Fairport, which is, generally speaking, open, 
 uninclosed, and bare. But here and there the progress of rills, or 
 small rivers, has formed dells, glens, or, as they are provincially 
 termed, dens, on whose high and rocky banks trees and shrubs of 
 all kinds find a shelter, and grow with a luxuriant profusion, which 
 is the more gratifying, as it forms an unexpected contrast with the 
 general face of the country. This was eminently the case with the 
 approach to the ruins of Saint Ruth, which was for some time 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 141 
 
 merely a sheep-track, along the side of a steep and bare hill. By- 
 degrees, however, as this path descended, and winded round the 
 hill-side, trees began to appear, at first singly, stunted, and blighted, 
 with locks of wool upon their trunks, and their roots hollowed out 
 into recesses, in which the sheep love to repose themselves — a sight 
 much more gratifying to the eye of an admirer of the picturesque 
 than to that of a planter or forester. By-and-by the trees formed 
 groups, fringed on the edges, and filled up in the middle, by thorns 
 and hazel bushes, and at length these groups closed so much to- 
 gether, that although a broad glade opened here and there under 
 their boughs, or a small patch of bog or heath occurred which had 
 refused nourishment to the seed which they sprinkled round, and 
 consequently remained open and waste, the scene might on the 
 whole be termed decidedly woodland. The sides of the valley 
 began to approach each other more closely ; the rush of a brook 
 was heard below, and between the intervals afforded by openings 
 in the natural wood, its waters were seen hurling clear and rapid 
 under their sylvan canopy. 
 
 Oldbuck now took upon himself the full authority of cicerone, 
 and anxiously directed the company not to go a foot-breadth off the 
 track which he pointed out to them, if they wished to enjoy in full 
 perfection what they came to see. " You are happy in me for a 
 guide, Miss Wardour," exclaimed the veteran, waving his hapd and 
 head in cadence as he repeated with emphasis, 
 
 " ' I know each lane, and every alley green, 
 Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood. 
 And every bosky bower from side to side.' 
 
 Ah ! deuce take it ! — that spray of a bramble has demolished all 
 Caxon's labours, and nearly canted roy wig into the stream — so 
 much for recitations hors de propos:' 
 
 " Never mind, my dear sir," said Miss Wardour ; "you have ' 
 your faithful attendant ready to repair such a disaster when it 
 happens, and when you appear with it as restored to its original 
 splendour, I will carry on the quotation : 
 
 ' So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
 And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
 And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore 
 Flames on the forehead ' " 
 
 " O ! enough, enough ! " answered Oldbuck ; " I ought to have 
 known what it was to give you advantage over me — But here is 
 what will stop your career of satire, for you are an admirer of nature, 
 I know." In fact, when they had followed him through a breach in 
 
143 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 a low, ancient, and ruinous wall, they came suddenly upon a scene 
 equally unexpected and interesting. 
 
 They stood pretty high upon the side of the glen, which had 
 suddenly opened into a sort of amphitheatre to give room for a 
 pure and profound lake of a few acres extent, and a space of level 
 ground around it. The banks then -arose everywhere steeply, and 
 in some places were varied by rocks — in others covered with the 
 copse, which run up, feathering their sides lightly and irregularly, 
 and breaking the uniformity of the green pasture-ground. Beneath, 
 the lake discharged itself into the huddling and tumultuous brook, 
 which had been their companion since they had entered the glen. 
 At the point at which it issued from " its parent lake," stood the 
 ruins which they had come to visit. They were not of great extent ; 
 but the singular beauty, as well as the wild and sequestered cha- 
 racter of the spot on which they were situated, gave them an 
 interest and importance superior to that whiqh attaches itself to 
 architectural remains of greater consequence, but placed near to 
 ordinary houses, and possessing less romantic accompaniments. 
 The eastern window of the church remained entire, with all its 
 ornaments and tracery work ; and the sides, upheld by flying 
 buttresses, whose airy support, detached from the wall against 
 which they were placed, and ornamented with pinnacles and carved 
 work, gave a variety and lightness to the building. The roof and 
 western end of the church were completely ruinous ; but the latter 
 appeared to have made one side of a square, of which the ruins of 
 the conventual buildings formed other two, and the gardens a 
 fourth. The side of these buildings which overhung the brook, was 
 partly founded on a steep and precipitous rock ; for the place had 
 been occasionally turned to military purposes, and had been taken 
 with great slaughter during Montrose's wars. The ground formerly 
 occupied by the garden was still marked by a few orchard trees. 
 At a greater distance from the buildings, were detached oaks and 
 elms and chesnuts, growing singly, which had attained great size. 
 The rest of the space between the ruins and the hill was a close- 
 cropt sward, which the daily pasture of the sheep kept in much 
 finer order than if it had been subjected to the scythe and broom. 
 The whole scene had a repose, which was still and affecting with- 
 out being monotonous. The dark, deep basin, in which the clear 
 blue lake reposed, reflecting the water lilies which grew on its 
 surface, and the trees which here and there threw their arms from 
 the banks, was finely contrasted with the haste and tumult of the 
 brook which broke away from the outlet, as if escaping from con- 
 finement, and hurried down the glen, wheeling around the base of 
 the rock on which the ruins were situated, and brawling in foam 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 143 
 
 and fury with every shelve and stone which obstructed its passage. 
 A similar contrast was seen between the level green meadow, in 
 which the ruins were situated, and the large timber-trees which were 
 scattered over it, compared with the precipitous banks which ar6se 
 at a short distance around, partly fringed with light and feathery 
 underwood, partly rising in stegps clothed with purple heath, and 
 partly more abruptly elevated into fronts of grpy rock, chequered 
 with lichen, and with those hardy plants which find root even in the 
 most arid crevices of the crags. 
 
 " There was the retreat of learning in the days of darkness, Mr. 
 Lovel ! " said Oldbuck, around whom the company had now grouped 
 themselves while they admired the unexpected opening of a prospect 
 so romantic ; " there reposed the sages who were aweary of the 
 world, and devoted either to that which was to come, or to the 
 service of the generations who should follow them in this. I will 
 show you presently the library ; — see that stretch of wall with 
 square-shafted windows — there it existed, stored, as an old manu- 
 script in my possession assures me, with five thousand volumes. 
 And here I might well take up the lamentation of the learned 
 Leland, who, regretting the downfal of the conventual libraries, 
 exclaims, like Rachael weeping for her children, that if the papal 
 laws, decrees, decretals, Clementines, and other such drugs of the 
 devil, yea, if Heytesburg's sophisms. Porphyry's universals, Aris- 
 totle's logic, and Duiise's divinity, with such other lousy legerde- 
 mains (begging your pardon^ Miss Wardour) and fruits of the 
 bottomless pit, had leapt out of our libraries, for the accommoda- 
 tion of grocers, candlemakers, soapsellers, and other worldly occu- 
 piers, we might have been therewith contented. But to put our 
 ancient chronicles, our noble histories, our learned commentaries, 
 and national muniments, to such offices of contempt and subjection, 
 has greatly degraded our nation, and showed ourselves dishonoured 
 n the eyes of posterity to the utmost stretch of time — O negligence 
 most unfriendly to our land ! " 
 
 "And, O John Knox," said the baronet, "through whose 
 influence, and under whose auspices, the patriotic task was 
 accomplished ! " 
 
 The Antiquary, somewhat in the situation of a woodcock caught 
 in his own springe, turned short round and coughed, to excuse a 
 slight blush as he mustered his answer — " as to the Apostle of 
 Scottish Reformation " 
 
 But Miss Wardour broke in to interrupt a conversation so 
 dangerous. " Pray, who was the author you quoted, Mr. Oldbuck ?" 
 
 " The learned Leland, Miss Wardour, who lost his senses on 
 witnessing the destruction of the conventual libraries in England." 
 
144 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "Now, I think," replied the young lady, "his misfortune may 
 have saved the rationality of sume modern antiquaries, which would 
 certainly have been drowned if so vast a lake of learning had not 
 been diminished by draining." 
 
 " Well, thank Heaven, there is no danger now — they have hardly 
 left us a spoonful in which to perform the dire feat." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Oldbuck led the way down the bank, by a steep 
 but secure path, which soon placed them on the verdant meadow 
 where the ruins stood. " There they lived," continued the Anti- 
 quary, " with nought to do but to spend their time in investigating 
 points of remote antiquity, transcribing manuscripts, and composing 
 new works for the information of posterity." 
 
 " And," added the baronet, " in exercising the rights of devotion 
 with a pomp and ceremonial worthy of the office of the priesthood." 
 
 " And if Sir Arthur's excellence will permit," said the German, 
 -,vith a low bow, " the monksh might also make de vary curious 
 experiment in deir laboratories, both in chemistry and inagia 
 naturalis." 
 
 " I think,'' said the clergyman, " they would have enough to do in 
 collecting the teinds of the parsonage and vicarage of three good 
 parishes." 
 
 " And all," added Miss Wardour, nodding to the Antiquary, 
 " without interruption from womankind." 
 
 " True, my fair foe," said Oldbuck ; " this was a paradise where 
 no Eve was admitted, and we may wonder the rather by what 
 chance the good fathers came to lose it." 
 
 With such criticisms on the occupations of those by whom the 
 ruins had been formerly possessed, they wandered for some time 
 from one moss-grown shrine to another, under the guidance of Old- 
 buck, who explained, with much plausibility, the ground plan of 
 the edifice, and read and expounded to, the company, the various 
 mouldering inscriptions which yet were to be traced upon the 
 tombs of the dead, or under the vacant niches of the sainted 
 images. 
 
 " What is the reason," at length Miss Wardour asked the Anti- 
 quary, " why tradition has preserved to us such meagre accounts of 
 the inmates of these stately edifices, raised with such expense of 
 labour and taste, and whose owners were in their times personages 
 of such awful power and importance? The meanest tower of a 
 freebooting baron or squire, who lived by his lance and broadsword, 
 is consecrated by its appropriate legend, and the shepherd will tell 
 you with accuracy the names and feats of its inhabitants ; but ask 
 a countryman concerning these beautiful and extensive remains — 
 these towers, these arches, and buttresses, and shafted windows, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 14S 
 
 reared at such cost, three words fill up his answer — ' they were made 
 by the monks lang syne.' " 
 
 The question was somewhat puzzling. — Sir Arthur looked up- 
 ward, as if hoping to be inspired with an answer — Oldbuck shoved 
 back his wig — the clergyman was of opinion that his parishioners 
 were too deeply impressed with the true presbyterian doctrine to 
 preserve any records concerning the papistical cumberers of the 
 land, offshoots as they were of the great overshadowing tree of ini- 
 quity, whose roots are in the bowels of the seven hills of abomina- 
 tion — Lovel thought the question was best resolved by considering 
 what are the events which leave the deepest impression on the 
 minds of the common people — "These," he contended, "were not 
 such as resemble the gradual progress of a fertilizing river, but the 
 headlong and precipitous fury of some portentous flood. The eras 
 by which the vulgar compute time, have always reference to some 
 period of fear and tribulation, and they date by a tempest, an earth- 
 quake, or burst of civil commotion. When such are the facts most 
 alive in the memory of the common people, we cannot wonder," he 
 concluded, "that the ferocious warrior is remembered, and the 
 peaceful abbots are abandoned to forgetfulness and oblivion." 
 
 "If you pleashe, gentlemans and ladies, and ashking pardon of 
 Sir Arthur and Miss Wardoui:, and this worthy clergymansh, and 
 my goot friend Mr. Oldenbuck, who is my countrymansh, and of 
 goot young Mr. Lofel also, I think it is all owing to de hand of 
 glory." 
 
 " The hand of what ?" exclaimed Oldbuck. 
 
 " De hand of glory, my goot Master Oldenbuck, which is a vary 
 great and terrible secrets — which de monksh used to conceal their 
 treasures when they were triven from their cloisters by what you 
 call de Reform." 
 
 " Ay, indeed ! tell us about that," said Oldbuck, " for these are 
 secrets worth knowing." 
 
 " Why, my goot Master Oldenbuck, you will only laugh at rne^ 
 But de hand of glory is vary well known in de countries where your 
 worthy progenitors did live — and it is hand cut off from a dead 
 man, as has been hanged for murther, and dried very nice in de 
 shmoke of juniper wood ; and if you put a little of what you call 
 yew wid your juniper, it will not be any better — that is, it will not 
 be no worse^then you do take something of de fatsh of de bear, and 
 of de badger, and of de great eber, as you call de grand boar, and 
 of de little sucking child as has not been christened (for dat is very 
 essentials), and you do make a candle, and put it into de hand of 
 glory at de proper hour and minute, with de proper ceremonish, 
 and he who seeksh for treasuresh shall never find none at all." 
 
 K 
 
146 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " I dare take my corporal oath of that conclusion," said the Anti- 
 quary. " And was it the custom, Mr. Dousterswivel, in Westphalia, 
 to make use of this elegant candelabrum ? " 
 
 "Alwaysh, Mr. Oldenbuck, when you did not want nobody to 
 talk of nothing you wash doing about — And de monksh alwaysh 
 did this when they did hide their church-plates, and their great 
 chalipes, and de rings, wid very prfeshious shtones and jewels." 
 
 " But, notwithstanding, you' knights of the Rosy Cross have 
 means, no doubt, of breaking the spell, and discovering what the 
 poor monks have put themselves to so much trouble to conceal ? " 
 
 " Ah ! goot Mr. Oldenbuck," replied the adept, shaking his head 
 mysteriously, " you was very hard to believe ; but if you had seen 
 de great huge pieces of de plate so massive, Sir Arthur^ — so fine 
 fashion, Miss Wardour — and de silver cross dat we did find (dat 
 was Schroepfer and my ownsel^ for de Herr Freygraff, as you caU 
 de Baron Von Blunderhaus, I do believe you would have believed 
 then." 
 
 " Seeing is believing indeed — But what was your art — what was 
 your mystery, Mr. Dousterswivel?" 
 
 "Aha, Mr. Oldenbuck 1 dat is my little secret, mine goot sir — 
 you sail forgife me that I not tell that. But I will tell you dere are 
 various ways — yes, indeed, dere is de dream dat you dream tree 
 times, dat is a vary goot way." 
 
 " I am glad of that," said Oldbuck ; " I have a friend " (with a 
 side-glance to Lovel), " who is peculiarly favoured by the visits of 
 Queen Mab." 
 
 " Den dere is de sympathies, and de antipathies, and de strange 
 properties and virtues natural of divers herb, and of de little 
 divining rod." 
 
 " I would gladly rather see some of these wonders than hear of 
 them," said Miss Wardour. 
 
 " Ah, but, my much-honoured young lady, this is not de time or 
 de way to do de great wonder of finding all de church's plate and 
 treasure ; but to oblige you, and Sir Arthur my patron, and de 
 reverend clergymans, and goot Mr. Oldenbuck, and young Mr. 
 Lofel, who is a very goot young gentleman also, I will show you 
 dat it is possible, a vary possible, to discover de spring of water, 
 and de little fountain hidden in de ground, without any mattock, or 
 spade, or dig at all." 
 
 " Umph ! " quoth the Antiquary, " I have heard of that conun- 
 drum. That will be no very productive art in our country ; — you 
 should carry that property to Spain or Portugal, and turn it to good 
 account." 
 
 " Ah ! my goot Master Oldenbuck, dere is de Inquisition, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 147 
 
 de Auto-da-fe— they would burn me, who am but a simple philoso- 
 pher, for one great conjurer." 
 
 " They would cast away their coals then," said Oldbuck ; "but," 
 continued he, in a whisper to Lovel, '' were they to pillory him for 
 one of the most impudent rascals that ever wagged a tongue, they 
 would square the punishment more accurately with his deserts. 
 But let us see — I think he is about to show us some of his legerde- 
 main." 
 
 In truth, the German was now got to a little copse thicket at 
 some distance from the ruins, where he affected busily to search 
 for such a wand as should suit the purpose of his mystery ; and after 
 cutting, and examining, and rejecting several, he at length provided 
 himself with a small twig of hazel terminating in a forked end, 
 which he pronounced to possess the virtue proper for the experi- 
 ment that he was about to exhibit. Holding the forked ends of the 
 wand, each between a finger and thumb, and thus keeping the rod 
 upright, he proceeded to pace the ruined aisles and cloisters, fol- 
 lowed by the rest of the company in admiring procession. " I 
 believe dere was no waters here," saidthe adept, when he had made 
 the round of several of the buildings, without perceiving any of 
 those indications which he pretended to expect — " I believe those 
 Scotch monksh did find de water too cool for de climate, and 
 alwaysh drank de goot comfortable Rhine wine. But, aha ! — see 
 there ! " — Accordingly, the assistants observed the rod to turn in 
 his fingers, although he pretended to hold it very tight. — " Dere is 
 water here about, sure enough," — and, turning this way and that 
 way, as the agitation of the divining rod seemed to increase or 
 diminish, he at length advanced into the midst of a vacant and 
 roofless enclosure, which had been the kitchen of the priory, when 
 the rod twisted itself so as to point almost straight downwards. 
 " Here is de place," said the adept, " and if you do not find de 
 water here, I will give you all leave to call me an impudent knave." 
 
 " I shall take that license," whispered the Antiquary to Lovel, 
 "whether the water is discovered or no." 
 
 A servant, who had come up with a basket of cold refreshments, 
 was now dispatched to a neighbouring forester's hut for a mattock 
 and pick-axe. The loose stones and rubbish being removed from 
 the spot indicated by the German, they soon came to the sides of a 
 regularly-built well ; and when a few feet of rubbish were cleared 
 out by the assistance of the forester and his sons, the water began 
 to rise rapidly, to the delight of the philosopher, the astonishment 
 of the ladies, Mr. Blattergowl, and Sir Arthur, the surprise of Lovel, 
 and the confusion of the incredulous Antiquary. He did not fail, 
 however, to enter his protest in Level's ear against the miracle. 
 
 K 2 
 
148 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " This is a mere trick," he said ; " the rascal had made himself sure 
 of the existence of this old well, by some means or other, before he 
 played off this mystical piece of jugglery. Mark what he talks of 
 next. I am much mistaken if this is not intended as a prelude to 
 some more serious fraud ; see how the rascal assumes consequence, 
 and plumes himself upon the credit of his success, and how poor 
 Sir Arthur takes in the tide of nonsense which he is delivering to 
 him as principles of occult science ! " 
 
 " You do see, my goot patron,' you do see, my goot ladies, you 
 do see, worthy Dr. Bladdei-howl, and even Mr. Lofel and Mr. 
 Oldenbuck may see, if they do will to see, how art has no enemy 
 at all but ignorance. Look at this little slip of hazel nuts — it is fit 
 for nothing at all but to whip de little child " — (" I would choose a 
 cat and nine tails for your occasions," whispered Oldbuck apart), — 
 " and you put it in the hands of a philosopher — paf ! it makes de 
 grand discovery. But this is nothing. Sir Arthur, — nothing at all, 
 worthy Dr. Botherhowl — nothing at all, ladies — nothing at all, young 
 Mr. Lofel and goot Mr. Oldenbuck, to what art can do. Ah ! if 
 dere was any man that had de spirit and de courage,! would show 
 him better things than de well of water — I would show him " 
 
 " And a little money would be necessary also, would it not ? " said 
 the Antiquary. ' 
 
 " Bah ! one trifle, not worth talking about, might be necessaries," 
 answered the adept. 
 
 " I thought as much,'' rejoined the Antiquary, dryly ; " and I, in 
 the meanwhile, without any divining rod, will show you an excellent 
 venison pasty, and a bottle of London particular Madeira, and I 
 think that will match all that Mr. D ousters wivel's art is like to 
 exhibit." 
 
 The feast was s^rta.A fronds super viridi, as Oldbuck expressed 
 himself, under a huge old tree called the Prior's Oak, and the com- 
 pany sitting down around it, did ample honour to the contents of 
 the basket. " 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 As when a Gryphon through the wilderness, 
 With winged course, o'er hill and moory dale, 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 
 Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd 
 
 The guarded gold : So eagerly the Fiend 
 
 Paradise Lost. 
 
 When their collation was ended. Sir Arthur resumed the account 
 of the mysteries of the divining rod, as a subject on which he had 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 149 
 
 formerly conversed with Dousterswivel. " My friend Mr. Oldbuck 
 \^H\ now be prepared, Mr. Dousterswivel, to listen with more respect 
 to the stories you have told us of the late discoveries in Germany 
 by the brethren of yovfr association." 
 
 " Ah, Sir Arthur, that was not a thing to speak to those gentle- 
 mans, because it is want of credulity— what you call faith — that 
 spoils the great enterprise." 
 
 " At least, however, let my daughter read the narrative she has 
 taken down of the story of Martin Waldeck." 
 
 " Ah ! that was vary true story — but Miss Wardour, she is so sly 
 and so witty, that she has made it just like one romance — as well as 
 Goethe or Wieland could have done it, by mine honest wort." 
 
 " To say the truth, Mr. Dousterswivel," answered Miss Wardour, 
 " the romantic predominated in the legend so much above the pro- 
 bable, that it wao impossible for a lover of fairy-land like me to 
 avoid lending a few touches to make it perfect in its kind. — But 
 here it is, and if you do not incline to leave this shade till the heat 
 of the day has somewhat declined, and will have sympathy with my 
 bad composition, perhaps Sir Arthur or Mr. Oldbuck will read it 
 to us." 
 
 " Not I," said Sir Arthur ; " I was never fond of reading aloud." 
 
 " Nor I," said Oldbuck, " for I have forgot my spectacles — But 
 here is Lovel, with sharp eyes, and a good voice ; for Mr. Blatter- 
 gowl, I know, never reads anything, lest he should be suspected of 
 reading his sermons." 
 
 The task was therefore imposed upon Lovel, who received, with 
 some trepidation, as Miss Wardour delivered, with a little embar- 
 rassment, a paper containing the lines traced by that fair hand, the 
 possession of which he coveted as the highest blessing the earth 
 could offer to him. But there was a necessity of suppressing his 
 emotions ; and after glancing over the manuscript, as if to become 
 acquainted with the character, he collected himself, and read the 
 company the following tale : — ■ 
 
 %i)t JnttuttES of J5latti« WOUtth* 
 
 The solitudes of the Harz forest in Germany, but especially the 
 mountains called Blockberg, or rather Brockenberg, are the chosen 
 scene for tales of witches, demons, and apparitions. The occupa- 
 tion of the inhabitants, who are either miners or foresters, is of a 
 kind that renders them peculiarly prone to superstition, and the 
 natural phenomena which they witness in pursuit of their solitary 
 or subterraneous profession, are often set down by them to the in- 
 terference of goblins or the power of magic. Among the various 
 legends current in that wild country, there is a favourite one, which 
 
ISO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 supposes the Harz to be haunted by a sort of tutelar demon, in the 
 shape of a wild man, of huge stature, his head wreathed with oak 
 leaves, and his middle cinctured with the same, bearing in his hand 
 a pine torn up by the roots. It is certain that many persons pro- 
 fess to have seen such a form traversing, with huge strides, in a 
 line parallel to their own course, the opposite ridge of a mountain, 
 when divided from it by a narrow glen ; and indeed the fact of the 
 apparition is so generally admitted, that modern scepticism has 
 only found refuge by ascribing it to optical deception.* 
 
 In elder times, the intercourse of the demon with the inhabitants 
 was more familiar, and, according to the traditions of the Harz, he 
 was wont, with the caprice usually ascribed to these earth-born 
 powers, to interfere with the affairs of mortals, sometimes for their 
 weal, sometimes for their woe. ' But it was observed, that even his 
 gifts often turned out, in the long run, fatal to those on whom 
 they were bestowed, and it was no uncommon thing for the pastors, 
 in their care of their flocks, to compose Igng sermons, the burden 
 whereof was a warning against having any intercourse, direct or 
 indirect, with the Harz demon. The fortunes of Martin Waldeck 
 have been often quoted by the aged to their giddy children, 
 when they were heard to scoif at a danger which appeared 
 visionary. 
 
 A travelling capuchin had possessed himself of the pulpit of the 
 thatched church at a little hamlet called Morgenbrodt, lying in the 
 Harz district, from which he declaimed against the wickedness of the 
 inhabitants, their communication with fiends, witches, and fairies, 
 and, in particular, with the woodland goblin of the Harz. The 
 doctrines of Luther had already begun to spread among the pea- 
 santry, for the incident is placed under the reign of Charles V., 
 and they laughed to scorn the zeal with which the venerable man 
 insisted upon his topic. At length, as his vehemence increased 
 with opposition, so their opposition rose in proportion to his vehe- 
 mence. The inhabitants did not like to hear an accustomed quiet 
 demon, who had inhabited the Brockenberg for so many ages, sum- 
 marily confounded with Baal-peor, Ashtaroth, and Beelzebub him- 
 self, and condemned without reprieve to the' bottomless Tophet. 
 The apprehensions that the spirit might avenge himself on them 
 for listening to such an illiberal sentence, added to their national 
 interest in his behalf. A travelling friar, they said, that is here 
 to-day and away to-morrow, may say what he pleases : but it is 
 we, the ancient and constant inhabitants of the country, that are 
 kft at the mercy of the insulted demon, and must, of course, pay 
 for all. Under the irritation occasioned by these reflections, the 
 peasants from injurious language betook themselves to stones, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 151 
 
 having pebbled the priest pretty handsomely, they drove him out of 
 the parish to preach against demons elsewhere. 
 
 Three young men, who had been present and assisting on this 
 occasion, were .upon their return to the hut where they carried 
 on the laborious and mean occupation of preparing charcoal for 
 the smelting furnaces. On the way, their conversation naturally 
 turned upon the demon of the Harz and the doctrine of the capu- 
 chin. Max and George Waldeck, the two elder brothers, although 
 they allowed the language of the capuchin to have been indiscreet 
 and worthy of censure, as presuming to determine upon the precise 
 character and abode of the spirit, yet contended it was dangerous, 
 in the highest deigree, to accept of his gifts, or hold any communi- 
 cation with him. He was powerful, they allowed, but wayward and 
 capricious, and those who had intercourse with him seldom came 
 to a good end. Did he not give the brave knight, Ecbert of Ra- 
 benwald, that famous black steed, by means of which he vanquished 
 all the champions at the great tournament at Bremen ? and did not 
 the same steed afterwards precipitate itself with its rider into an 
 abyss so steep and fearful, that neither horse nor man were ever 
 seen more ? Had he not given to Dame Gertrude Trodden a 
 curious spell for making butter come ? and was she not burnt for a 
 witch by the grand criminal judge of the Electorate, because she 
 availed Herself of his gift ? But these, and many other instances 
 which they quoted, of mischance and ill-luck ultimately attending 
 on the apparent benefits conferred by the Harz spirit, failed to 
 make any impression upon Martin Waldeck, the youngest of the 
 brothers. 
 
 Martin was youthful, rash, and impetuous ; excelling in all the ex- 
 ercises which distinguish a mountaineer, and brave and undaunted 
 from his familiar intercourse with the dangers that attend them. 
 He laughed at the timidity of his brothers. " Tell me not of such 
 folly," he said J " the demon is a good demon — he lives among us 
 as if he were a peasant like ourselves — haunts the lonely crags and 
 recesses of the mountains like a huntsman or goatherd — ^and he 
 who loves the Harz forest and its wild scenes cannot be indififerent 
 to the fate of' the hardy children of the soil. But, if the demon 
 were as malicious as you would make him, how should he derive 
 power over mortals, who barely avail themselves of his gifts, with- 
 out binding themselves to submit to his pleasure? When you 
 carry your charcoal to the furnace, is not the money as good that 
 is paid you by blaspheming Blaize, the old reprobate overseer, as 
 if you got it from the pastor himself? It is not the goblin's gifts, 
 which can endanger you, then, but it is the use you shall make of 
 them that you must account for. And were the demon to appear 
 
152 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 to me at this moment, and indicate to me a gold or silver mine, I 
 would begin to dig away even before his back were turned, and I 
 would consider myself as under protection of a much Greater 
 than he, while I made a good use of the wealth he pointed out 
 to me." 
 
 To this the elder brother replied, that wealth ill won was seldom 
 well spent ; while Martin presumptuously declared, that the pos- 
 session of all the treasures of the Harz would not make the slightest 
 alteration on his habits, morals, or character. 
 
 His brother entreated Martin to talk less wildly upon this sub- 
 ject, and with some difficulty contrived to withdraw his attention, 
 by calling it to the consideration of the approaching boar-chase. 
 This talk brought them to their Wt, a wretched wigwam, situated 
 upon one side of a wild, narrow, and romantic dell, in the recesses 
 of the Brockenberg. They released their sister from attending upon 
 the operation of charring the wood, which requires constant atten- 
 tion, and divided among themselves the duty of watching it by 
 night, according to their custom, one always waking while his 
 brothers slept. 
 
 Max Waldeck, the eldest, watched during the two first' hours of 
 the night, and was considerably alarmed by observing, upon thq 
 opposite bank of the glen, or valley, a huge fire surrounded by 
 some figures that appeared to wheel around it with antic gestures. 
 Max at first bethought him of calling up his brothers ; but recolr 
 lecting the daring character of the youngest, and finding it imposr 
 sible to wake the elder without also disturbing Martin — conceiving 
 also what he saw to be an illusion of the demon, sent perhaps in 
 consequence of the venturous expressions used by Martin on the 
 preceding evening, he thought it best to betake himself to the safe- 
 guard of such prayers as he could murmur over, and to watch in 
 great terror and annoyance this strange and alarming apparition. 
 After blazing for some time, the fire faded gradually away into 
 darkness, and the rest of Max's watch was only disturbed by the 
 remembrance of its terrors. 
 
 George now occupied the place of Max, who had retired to rest. 
 The phenomenon of a huge blazing fire, upon the opposite bank of 
 the glen, again presented itself to the eye of the watchman. It 
 was surrounded as before by figures, which, distinguished by their 
 opaque forms, being between the spectator and the red glaring 
 light, moved and fluctuated around it as if engaged in some mys- 
 tical ceremony. George, though equally cautious, was of a bolder 
 character than his elder brother. He resolved to examine more 
 nearly the object of his wonder; and, accordingly, after crossing 
 the rivulet which divided the glen, he climbed up the opposite 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. IS3 
 
 bank, and approached within an arrow's flight of the fire, which 
 blazed apparently with the same fury as when he first witnessed it. 
 
 The appearance of the assistants who surrounded it, resembled 
 those phantoms which are seen in a troubled dream, and at once 
 confirmed the idea he had entertained from the first, that they did 
 not belong to the human world. Amongst these strange unearthly 
 forms, George Waldeck distinguished that of a giant overgrown 
 with hair, holding an uprooted fir in his hand, with which, from 
 time to time, he seemed to stir the blazing fire, and having no other 
 clothing than a wreath of oak leaves around his forehead and 
 loins. George's heart sunk within him at recognising the well- 
 known apparition of the Harz demon, as he had been often de- 
 scribed to him by the ancient shepherds and huntsmen who had 
 seen his form traversing the mountains. He turned, and was about 
 to fly ; but, upon second thoughts, blaming his own cowardice, he 
 recited mentally the verse of the Psalmist, " All good angels, praise 
 the Lord ! " which is in that country supposed powerful as an ex- 
 orcism, and turned himself once more towards the place where he 
 had seen the fire. But it was no longer visible. 
 
 The pale moon alone enlightened the side of the valley ; and 
 when George, with trembling steps, a moist brow, and hair bristling 
 upright under his collier's cap, came to the spot on which the fire 
 had been so lately visible, marked as it was by a scathed oak-tree, 
 there appeared not on the heath the slightest vestiges of what 
 he had seen. The moss and wild-flowers were unscorched, and the 
 branches of the oak-tree, which had so lately appeared enveloped in 
 wreaths of flame and smoke, were moist with the dews of midnight. 
 
 George returned to his hut with trembling steps, and, arguing 
 like his elder brother, resolved to say nothing of what he had seen, 
 lest he should awake in Martin that daring curiosity which he 
 almost deemed to be allied with impiety. 
 
 It was now Martin's turn to watch. The household cock had 
 given his first summons, and the night was wellnigh spent. Upon 
 examining the state of the furnace in which the wood was depo- 
 sited in order to its being coked or charred, he was surprised to find 
 that the fire had not been sufficiently maintained ; for in his excursion 
 and its consequences, George had forgot the principal object of his 
 watch. Martin's first thought was to call up the slumberers ; but 
 observing that both his brothers slept unwontedly deep and heavily, 
 he respected their repose, and set himself to supply the furnace 
 with fuel without requiring their aid. What he heaped upon it was 
 apparently damp and unfit for the purpose, for the fire seemed 
 rather to decay than revive. Martin next went to collect some 
 boughs from a stack which had been carefully cut and dried for 
 
IS4 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 this purpose ; but, when he returned, he found the fire totally extin- 
 guished. This was a serious evil, and threatened them with loss 
 of their trade for more than one day. The vexed and mortified 
 watchman set about to strike a light in order to rekindle the fire ; 
 but the tinder was moist, and his labour proved in this respect also 
 ineffectual. He was now about to call up his brothers, for circum- 
 stances seemed to be pressing, when flashes of light glimmered 
 not only through the window, but through every crevice of the 
 rudely built hut, and summoned him to behold the same apparition 
 which had before alarmed the successive watches of his brethren. 
 His first idea was, that the Muhllerhaussers, their rivals in trade, 
 and with whom they had had many quarrels, might have encroached 
 upon their bounds for the purpose of pirating their wood ; and he 
 resolved to awake his brothers, and be revenged on them for their 
 audacity. But a short reflection and observation on the gestures 
 and manner of those who seemed to " work in the fire," induced 
 him to dismiss this belief, and although rather sceptical in such mat- 
 ters, to conclude that What he saw was a supernatural phenomenon. 
 " But be they men or fiends," said the undaunted forester, " that 
 busy themselves yonder with such fantastical rites and gestures, I 
 vi'ill go and demand a light to rekindle our furnace." He relin- 
 (^uished at the same time the idea of awaking his brethren. 
 There was a belief that such adventures as he was about to under- 
 take were accessible only to one person at a time ; he feared also 
 that his brothers, in their scrupulous timidity, might interfere to 
 prevent his pursuing the . investigation he had resolved to com- 
 mence ; and, therefore, snatching his boar-spear from the wall, the 
 undaunted Martin Waldeck set forth on the adventure alone. 
 
 With the same success as his brother George, but with courage 
 far superior, Martin crossed the brook, ascended the hill, and ap- 
 proached so near the ghostly assembly, that he could recognise, in the 
 presiding figure, the attributes of the Harz demon. A cold shudder- 
 ing assailed him for the first time in his life ; but the recollection 
 that he had at a distance dared and even courted the intercourse 
 which was now about to take place, confirmed his staggering cou- 
 rage ; and pride supplying what he wanted in resolution, he ad- 
 vanced with tolerable firmness towards the fire, the figures which 
 surrounded it appearing still more wild, fantastical, and superna- 
 tural, the more near he approached to the assembly. He was re- 
 ceived with a loud shout of discordant and unnatural laughter, 
 which, to his stunned ears, seemed more alarming than a combina- 
 tion of the most dismal and melancholy sounds that could be ima- 
 gined. " Who art thou ? " said the giant, compressing his savage 
 and exaggerated features into a sort of forced gravity, while they 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. IS3 
 
 were occasionally agitated by the convulsion of the laughter which 
 he seemed to suppress. 
 
 " Martin Waldeck, the forester," answered the hardy youth ; — 
 " and who are you ? " 
 
 " The King of the Waste and of the Mine," answered the spectre ; 
 — " and why hast thou dared to encroach on my mysteries ? " 
 
 " I came in search of light to rekindle my fire," answered Martin, 
 hardily, and then resolutely asked in his turn, " What mysteries are 
 those that you celebrate here ?" 
 
 " We celebrate," answered the complaisant demon, " the wedding 
 of Hepnes with the Black Dragon — But take thy fire that thou 
 earnest to seek and begone ! — No mortal may long look upon us 
 and live." 
 
 The peasant struck his spear point into a large piece of blazing 
 wood, which he heaved up with some difficulty, and then turned 
 round to regain his hut, the shouts of laughter being renewed 
 behind him with treble violence, and ringing far down the narrow 
 valley. When Martin returned to the hut, his first care, however 
 much astonished with what he had seen, was to dispose the kindled 
 coal among the fuel so as might best light the fire of his furnace ; 
 but after many efforts, and all exertions of bellows and fire-prong, 
 the coal he had brought from the demon's fire became totally 
 extinct, without kindling any of the others. He turned about, and 
 observed the fire still blazing on the hiU, although those who had 
 been busied around it had disappeared. As he conceived the 
 spectre had been jesting with him, he gave way to the natural 
 hardihood of his temper, and, determining to see the adventure to 
 an end, resumed the road to the fire, from which, unopposed by the 
 demon, he brought off in the same manner a blazing piece of 
 charcoal, but still without being able to succeed in lighting his fire. 
 Impunity having increased his rashness, he resolved upon a third 
 experiment, and was as successful as before in reaching the fire ; 
 but when he had again appropriated a piece of burning coal, and 
 had turned to depart, he heard the harsh and supernatural voice 
 which had before accosted him, pronounce these words, " Dare 
 not to return hither a fourth time ! " 
 
 The attempt to kindle the fire with this last coal having proved as 
 ineffectual as on the former occasions, Martin relinqiiished the 
 hopeless attempt, and flung himself on his bed of leaves, resolving 
 to delay till the next morning the communication of his super- 
 natural adventure to his brothers. He was awakened from a heavy 
 sleep into which he had sunk, from fatigue of body and agitation of 
 mind, by loud exclamations of surprise and joy. His brothers, 
 astonished at finding the fire extinguished when they awoke, had 
 
iS5 THE ANTiaUARY. 
 
 proceeded to arrange the fuel in order to renew it, when they found 
 in the ashes three huge metaUic masses, which their skill (for most 
 of the peasants in the Harz are practical . mineralogists) imme- 
 diately ascertained to be pure gold. 
 
 It was some damp upon their joyful congratulations when they 
 learned from Martin the mode in which he had obtained this 
 treasure, to which their own experience of the nocturnal vision 
 induced them to give full credit. But they were unable to resist 
 the temptation of sharing in their brother's wealth. Taking now 
 upon him as head of the house, Martin Waldeck bought lands and 
 forests, built a castle, obtained a patent of nobility, and, greatly to 
 the indignation of the ancient aristocracy of the neighbourhood, 
 was invested with all the privileges of a man of family. His 
 courage in public war, as well as in private feuds, together with the 
 number of retainers whom he kept in pay, sustained him for some 
 time against the odium which was excited by his sudden elevation, 
 and the arrogance of his pretensions. 
 
 And now it was seen in the instance of Martin Waldeck, as it 
 has been in that of many others, how little mortals can foresee the 
 effect of sudden prosperity on their own disposition. The evil pro- 
 pensities in his nature, which poverty had checked and repressed, 
 ripened and bore their unhallowed fruit under the influence of 
 temptation and the means of indulgence. As Deep calls unto 
 Deep, one bad passion awakened another ; — the fiend of avarice 
 invoked that of pride, and pride was to be supported by cruelty 
 and oppression. Waldeck's .character, always bold and daring, but 
 rendered harsh and assuming by prosperity, soon made him odious, 
 not to the nobles only, but likewise to the lower ranks, who saw, 
 with double dislike, the oppressive rights of the feudal nobility of 
 the empire so remorselessly exercised by one who had risen from 
 the very dregs of the people. His adventure, although carefully 
 concealed, began likewise to be whispered abroad, and the clergy 
 already stigmatized as a wizard and accomplice of fiends, the 
 wretch who, having acquired so huge a treasure in so strange 
 a manner, had not sought to sanctify it by dedicating a considerable 
 portion to the use of the church. Surrounded by enemies, public 
 and private, tormented by a thousand feuds, and threatened by the 
 church with excommunication, Martin Waldeck, or, as we must 
 now call him, the Baron Von Waldeck, often regretted bitterly the 
 labours and sports of his unenvied poverty. But his courage 
 failed him not under all these difficulties, and seemed rather to 
 augment in proportion to the danger which darkened around him, 
 until an accident precipitated his fall. 
 
 A proclamation by the reigning Duke of Brunswick had invited 
 
THK ANTIQUARY. 157 
 
 to a solemn tournament all German nobles of free and honourable 
 descent ; and Martin Waldeck, splendidly armed, accompanied by 
 his two brothers, and a gallantly-equipped retinue, had the arro- 
 gance to appear among the chivalry of the province, and demand 
 permission to enter the lists. This was considered as filling up the 
 measure of his presumption. A thousand voices exclaimed, " We 
 will have no cinder-sifter mingle in our games of chivalry." 
 Irritated to frenzy, Martin drew his sword and hewed down the 
 herald, whO) in compliance with the general outcry, opposed his 
 entry into the lists. An hundred swords were unsheathed to 
 avenge what was in those days regarded as a crime only inferior to 
 sacrilege, or regicide. Waldeck, after defending himself like a 
 lion, was seized, tried on the spot by the judges of the lists, and 
 condemned, as the appropriate punishment for breaking the peace 
 of his sovereign, and violating the sacred person of a herald-at- 
 arms, to have his right hand struck from his body, to be ignomini- 
 ously deprived of the honour of nobility, of which he was unworthy, 
 and to be expelled from the city. When he had been stripped of 
 his arms, and sustained the mutilation imposed by this severe 
 sentence, the unhappy victim of ambition was abandoned to the 
 rabble, who followed him with threats and outcries levelled alter- 
 nately against the necromancer and oppressor, which at length 
 ended in violence. His brothers (for his retinue were fled and 
 dispersed) at length succeeded in rescuing him from the hands of 
 the populace, when,' satiated with cruelty, they had left him half 
 dead through loss of blood, and through the outrages he had 
 sustained. They were not permitted, such was the ingenious 
 cruelty of their enemies, to make use of any other means of 
 removing him, excepting such a collier's cart as they had them- 
 selves formerly used, in which they deposited their brother on 
 a truss of straw, scarcely expecting to reach any place of shelter 
 ere death should release him from his misery. .. 
 
 When the Waldecks, journeying in this miserable manner, had 
 approached the verge of their native country, in a hollow way, 
 between two mountains, they perceived a figure advancing towards 
 them, which at first sight seemed to be an aged man. But as he 
 approached, his limbs and stature increased, the cloak fell from his 
 shoulders, his pilgrim's staff was changed into an uprooted pine- 
 tree, and the gigantic figure of the Harz demon passed before them 
 in his terrors. When he came opposite to the cart which contained 
 the miserable Waldeck, his huge features dilated into a grin of 
 unutterable contempt and malignity, as he asked the sufferer, 
 " How like you the fire my coals have kindled ? " The power of 
 ■motion, which terror suspended in his two brothers, seemed to be 
 
1S8 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 restored to Martin by the energy of his courage. He raised him- 
 self on the cart, bent his brows, and, clenching his fist, shook it at 
 the spectre with a ghastly look of hate and defiance. The goblin 
 vanished with his usual tremendous and explosive laugh, and left 
 Waldeck exhausted with this effort of expiring nature. 
 
 The terrified brethren turned their vehicle toward the towers of 
 a convent, which arose in a wood of pine-trees beside the road. 
 They were charitably received by a baie-footed and long-bearded 
 capuchin, and Martin survived only to complete the first con- 
 fession he had made since the day of his sudden prosperity, and to 
 receive absolution from the very priest whom, precisely on that day 
 three years, he had assisted to pelt out of the hamlet of Morgen- 
 brodt. The three years of precarious prosperity were supposed to 
 have a mysterious correspondence with the number of his visits to 
 the spectral fire upon the hill. 
 
 The body of Martin Waldeck was interred in the convent where 
 he expired, in which his brothers, having assumed the habit of the 
 order, lived and died in the performance of acts of charity and 
 devotion. His lands, to which no one asserted any claim, lay 
 waste until they were reassumed by the emperor as a lapsed fief, 
 and the ruins of the castle which Waldeck had called by his own 
 name, are still shunned by the miner and forester as haunted by 
 evil spirits. Thus were the miseries attendant upon wealth, hastily 
 attained and ill employed, exemplified in the fortunes of Martin 
 Waldeck. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Here has been such a stormy encounter 
 
 Betwixt my cousin Captain, and this soldier, 
 
 About I know not what ! — nothing, indeed ; 
 
 Competitions, degrees, and comparatives 
 
 Of soldiership ! A Fair Quarrel. 
 
 The attentive audience gave the fair transcriber of the foregoing, 
 legend the thanks which politeness required. Oldbuck alone 
 curled up his nose, and observed, that Miss Wardour's skill was 
 something like that of the alchemists, for she had contrived to 
 extract a sound and valuable moral out of a very trumpery and 
 ridiculous legend. " It is the fashion, as I am given to understand, 
 to admire those extravagant fictions — for me, 
 
 • I bear an English heart, 
 
 Unused at ghosts and rattling bones to start." 
 " Under your favour, my goot Mr. Oldenbuck," said the German, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 159 
 
 " Miss Wardour has turned de story, as she does everything as she 
 touches, very pretty indeed ; but all the history of de Harz goblin, 
 and how he walks among de desolate mountains wid a great fir-tree 
 for his walking-cane, and wid de great green bush around his head 
 and his waist — that is as true as I am an honest man." 
 
 "There is no disputing any proposition so well guaranteed," 
 answered the Antiquary, dryly. But at this moment the approach 
 of a stranger cut short the conversation. 
 
 The new comer was a handsome young man, about five-and- 
 twenty, in a military undress, and bearing, in his look and manner, 
 a good deal of the martial profession, nay, perhaps a Httle more 
 than is quite consistent with the ease of a man of perfect good- 
 breeding, in whom no professional habit ought to predominate. 
 He was at once greeted by the greater part of the company. 
 " My dear Hector ! " said Miss M'Intyre, as she rose to take his 
 hand 
 
 " Hector, son of Priam, whence comest thou ? " said the Anti- 
 quary. 
 
 " From Fife, my liege," answered the young soldier, and 
 continued, when he had politely saluted the rest of the company, 
 and particularly Sir Arthur and his daughter — " I learned from one 
 of the servants, as I rode towards Monkbarns to pay my respects 
 to you, that I should find the present company in this place, and I 
 willingly embrace the opportunity to pay my respects to so many 
 of my friends at once." 
 
 "And to a new one also, my trusty Trojan," said Oldbuck. 
 "Mr. Lovel, this is my nephew, Captain M'Intyre — Hector, I 
 recommend Mr. Lovel to your acquaintance." 
 
 The young soldier fixed his keen eye upon Lovel, and paid his 
 compliment with more reserve than cordiality ; and as our 
 acquaintance thought his coldness almost supercilious, he was 
 equally frigid and haughty in making the necessary return to it ; 
 and thus a prejudice seemed to arise between them at the very 
 commencement of their acquaintance. 
 
 The observations which Lovel made during the remainder of 
 this pleasure party did not tend to reconcile him with this addition 
 to their society. Captain M'Intyre, with the gallantry to be ex- 
 pected from his age and profession, attached himself to the service 
 of Miss Wardour, and offered her, on every possible opportunity, 
 those marks of attention which Lovel would have given the world 
 to have rendered, and was only deterred from offering by the fear 
 of her displeasure. With forlorn dejection at one moment, and 
 with irritated susceptibility at another, he saw this handsome young 
 soldier assume and exercise all the privileges of a cavalidr servdnte. 
 
i6o THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 He handed Miss Wardour's gloves, he assisted her in putting on 
 her shawl, he attached himself to her in the walks, had a hand 
 ready to remove every impediment in her path, and an arm to 
 support her where it was rugged or difficult ; his conversation was 
 addressed chiefly to her, and, where circumstances permitted, it 
 was exclusively so. All this, Lovel well knew, might be only that 
 sort of egotistical gallantry which induces some young men of the 
 present day to give themselves the air of engrossing, the attention 
 of the prettiest woman in company, as if the others were unworthy 
 of their notice. But he thought he observed in the conduct of 
 Captain M'Intyre something of marked and peculiar tenderness, 
 which was calculated to alarm the jealousy of a lover. Miss 
 Wardour also received his attentions ; and although his candour 
 allowed they were of a kind which could not be repelled without 
 some strain of affectation, yet it galled him to the heart to witness 
 that she did so. 
 
 The heart-burning which these reflections occasioned proved 
 very indifferent seasoning to the dry antiquarian discussions with 
 which Oldbuck, who continued to demand his particular attention, 
 was unremittingly persecuting him ; and he underwent, with fits of 
 impatience that amounted almost to loathing, a course of lectures 
 upon monastic architecture, in all its styles, from the massive Saxon 
 to the florid Gothic, and from that to the mixed and composite 
 architecture of James the First's time, when, according to Oldbuck, 
 all orders were confounded, and columns of various description^ 
 arose side by side, or were piled above each other, as if symmetry 
 had been forgotten, and the elemental principles of art resolved 
 into their primitive confusion. " What can be more cutting to the 
 heart than the sight of evils," said Oldbuck, in rapturous en- 
 thusiasm, " which we are compelled to behold, while we do not 
 possess the power of remedying them ? " Lovel answered by an 
 involuntary groan. " I see, my dear young friend, and most con- 
 genial spirit, that you feel these enormities almost as much as I do. 
 Have you ever approached them, or met them, without longing to 
 tear, to deface, what is so dishonourable ? " 
 
 " Dishonourable ! " echoed Lovel, " in what respect dishonour- 
 able?" 
 
 " I mean, disgraceful to the arts." 
 
 "Where? how?" 
 
 " Upon the portico, for example, of the schools of Oxford, where, 
 at immense expense the barbarous, fantastic, and ignorant architect 
 has chosen to represent the whole five orders of architecture on the 
 front of one building." 
 
 By such attacks as these, Oldbuck, unconscious of the torture he 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. j6i 
 
 was giving, compelled Lovel to give him a share of his attention, — 
 as a skilful angler, by means of his line, maintains an influence 
 over the most frantic movements of his agonized prey. 
 
 They were now on their return to the spot where they had left 
 the carriages ; and it is inconceivable how often, in the course of 
 that short walk, Lovel, exhausted by the unceasing prosing of his 
 worthy companion, mentally bestowed on the devil, or any one else 
 that would have rid him of hearing more of them, all the orders 
 and disorders of architecture which had been invented or combined 
 from the building of Solomon's temple downwards. A slight inci- 
 dent occurred, however, which sprinkled a little patience on the 
 heat of his distemperature. 
 
 Miss Wardour, and her self-elected knight-companion, rather 
 preceded the others in the narrow path, when the young lady ap- 
 parently became desirous to unite herself with the rest of the 
 party, and, to break off her tete-k-tete with the young officer, fairly 
 made a pause until Mr. Oldbuck came up. " I wished to ask you 
 a question, Mr. Oldbuck, concerning the date of these interesting 
 ruins." 
 
 It would be doing injustice to Miss Wardour's savoir faire, to 
 suppose she was not aware that such a question would lead to an 
 answer of no limited length. The Antiquary, starting like a war- 
 horse at the trumpet sound, plunged at once into the various 
 arguments for and against the date of 1273, which had been 
 assigned to the priory of St. Ruth by a late publication on Scottish 
 architectural antiquities. He raked up the names of all the priors 
 who had ruled the institution, of the nobles who had bestowed lands 
 upon it, and of the monarchs who had slept their last sleep among 
 its roofless courts. As a train which takes fire is sure to light 
 another, if there be such in the vicinity, the Baronet, catching at 
 the name of one of his ancestors which occurred in Oldbuck's dis- 
 quisition, entered upon an account of his wars, his conquests, and 
 his trophies ; and worthy Dr. Blattergowl was induced, from the 
 mention of a grant of lands, cum. decimis inclusis tarn vicariis 
 quam garbalibus, et nunquam antea separatis, to enter into a long 
 explanation concerning the interpretation given by the Teind 
 Court in the consideration of such a clause, which had occurred in 
 a process for localling his last augmentation of stipend. The 
 orators, like three racers, each pressed forward to the goal, without 
 much regarding how each crossed and jostled his competitors. 
 Mr. Oldbuck harangued, the Baronet declaimed, Mr. Blattergowl 
 prosed and laid down the law, while the Latin forms of feudal 
 grants were mingled with the jargon of blazonry, and the yet more 
 barbarous phraseology of the Teind Court of Scotland. " He 
 
 L 
 
i6a THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 was,'' exclaimed Oldbuck, speaking of the Prior Adhemar, " indeed 
 an exemplary prelate ; and, from his strictness of morals, rigid 
 execution of penance, joined to the charitable disposition of his 
 mind, and the infirmities endured by his great age and ascetic 
 habits " 
 
 Here he chanced to cough, and Sir Arthur burst in, or rather 
 continued — " was called popularly Hell-in-Harness ; he carried a 
 shield, gules with a sable fess, which we have since disused, and 
 was slain at the battle of Verneuil, in France, after killing six of the 
 English with his own " • 
 
 " Decreet of certification," proceeded the clergyman, in that 
 prolonged, steady, prosing tone, which, however overpowered at 
 first by the vehemence of competition, promised, in the long run, 
 to obtain the ascendency in this strife of narrators ; " Decreet of 
 certification having gone out, and parties being held as confessed, 
 the proof seemed to be held as concluded, when their lawyer 
 moved to have it opened up, on the allegation that they had wit- 
 nesses to bring forward, that they had been in the habit of carrying 
 the ewes to lamb on the teind-free land ; which was a mere 
 evasion, for" 
 
 But here the Baronet and Mr. Oldbuck having recovered their 
 wind, and continued their respective harangues, the three strands 
 of the conversation, to speak, the language of a rope-work, were 
 again twined together into one undistinguishable string of con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Yet howsoever uninteresting this piebald jargon might seem, it 
 was obviously Miss Wardour's purpose to give it her attention, in 
 preference to yielding Captain M'Intyre an opportunity of renewing 
 their private conversation. So that after waiting for a little time 
 with displeasure, ill concealed' by his haughty features, he left her 
 to enjoy her bad taste, and taking his sister by the arm, detained 
 her a little behind the rest of the party. 
 
 " So I find, Mary, that your neighbourhood has neither become 
 more lively nor less learned during my absence." 
 
 " We lacked your patience and wisdom to instruct us, Hector." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear sister. But you have got a wiser, if not 
 so lively an addition to your society, than your unworthy brother — 
 pray, who is this Mr. Lovel, whom our old uncle has at once 
 placed so high in his good graces ? — he does not use to be so acces- 
 sible to strangers." 
 
 " Mr. Lovel, Hector, is a very gentleman-like young man." 
 
 " Ay, that is to say, he bows when he comes ihto a room, and 
 wears a coat that is whole at the elbows." 
 
 " No, brother; it says a great deal more. It says that his man- 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 163 
 
 ners and discourse express the feelings and education of the higher 
 class." 
 
 " But I desire to know what is his birth and his rank in society, 
 and what is his title to be in the circle in which I find him domes- 
 ticated ? " 
 
 " If you mean, how he comes to visit at Monkbarns, you must 
 ask my uncle, who will probably reply, that he invites to his own 
 house such company as he pleases ; and if you mean to ask Sir 
 Arthur, you must know that Mr. Lovel rendered Miss Wardour and 
 him a service of the most important kind." 
 
 " What ! that romantic story is true, then ? — And pray, does the 
 valorous knight aspire, as is befitting on such occasions, to the 
 hand of the young lady whom he redeemed from peril ? — It is 
 quite in the rule of romance, I am aware ; and I did think that she 
 was uncommonly dry to me as we walked together, and seemed 
 from time to time as if she watched whether she was not giving 
 offence to her gallant cavalier." 
 
 " Dear Hector," said his sister, " if you really continue to nourish 
 any affection for Miss Wardour" — 
 " If, Mary ? — what an z/' was there ! " 
 
 " I own I consider your|perseverance as hopeless." 
 
 " And why hopeless, my sage sister ? " asked Captain M'Intyre: 
 " Miss Wardour, in the state of her father's affairs, cannot pretend 
 to much fortune ; and, as to family, I trust that of M'Intyre is not 
 inferior." 
 
 " But, Hector," continued his sister, " Sir Arthur always con- 
 siders us as members of the Monkbarns family." 
 
 " Sir Arthur may consider what he pleases," answered the High- 
 lander, scornfully ; " but any one with common sense will consider 
 that the wife takes rank from the husband, and that my father's 
 pedigree of fifteen unblemished descents must have ennobled my 
 mother, if her veins had been filled with printer's ink." 
 
 " For God's sake, Hector," replied his anxious sister, " take care 
 of yourself ! — a single expression of that kind, repeated to my 
 uncle by an indiscreet or interested eavesdropper, would lose you 
 his favour for ever, and destroy all chance of your succeeding to 
 his estate." 
 
 " Be it so,'' answered the heedless young man ; " I am one of a 
 profession which the world has never been able to do without, •and 
 will far less endure to want for half a century to come ; and my 
 good old uncle may tack his good estate and his plebeian name to 
 your apron-string if he pleases, Mary, and you may wed this new 
 favourite of his if you please, and you may both of you live quiet, 
 peaceable, well-regulated lives, if it pleases Heaven. My part is 
 
l64 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 taken — I'll fawn on no man for an inheritance which should be 
 mine by birth." 
 
 Miss M'Intyre laid her hand on her brother's arm, and entreated 
 him to suppress his vehemence. "Who," she said, "injures or 
 seeks to injure you, but your own hasty temper ? — what dangers 
 are you defying, but those you have yourself conjured up ? — Our 
 uncle has hitherto been all that is kind and paternal in his conduct 
 to us, and why should you suppose he will in future be otherwise 
 than what he has ever been, since we were left as orphans to 
 his care ? " 
 
 " He is an excellent old gentleman, I must own," replied 
 M'Intyre, " and I am enraged at myself when I chance to offend 
 him ; but then his eternal harangues upon topics not worth the 
 spark of a flint — his investigations about invalided pots and pans 
 and tobacco-stoppers past service — all these things put me out of 
 patience — I have something of Hotspur in me, sistei-, I must 
 confess." 
 
 " Too much, too much, my dear brother ! Into how many risks, 
 and, forgive me for saying, some of them little creditable, has this 
 absolute and violent temper led you! Do not let such clouds 
 darken the time you are now to pass in our neighbourhood, but let 
 our old benefactor see his kinsman as he is, — generous, kind, and 
 lively, without being rude, headstrong, and impetuous." 
 
 "Well," answered Captain M'Intyre, "I am schooled — good- 
 manners be my speed ! I'll do the civil thing by your new friend— 
 I'll have some talk with this Mr. Lovel." 
 
 With this determination, in which he was for the time perfectly 
 sincere, he joined the party who were walking before them. The 
 treble disquisition was by this time ended ; and Sir Arthur was 
 speaking on the subject of foreign news, and the political and 
 military situation of the country, themes upon which every man 
 thinks himself qualified to give an opinion. An action of the pre- 
 ceding year having come upon the tapis, Lovel, accidentally 
 mingling in the conversation, made some assertion concerning 
 it, of the accuracy of which Captain M'Intyre seemed not to be 
 convinced, although his doubts were politely expressed. 
 
 " You must confess yourself in the wrong here, Hector," said his 
 uncle, " although I know no man less willing to give up an argu- 
 ment ; but you were in England at the time, and Mr. Lovel was 
 probably concerned in the affair." 
 
 " I am speaking to a military man, then ? " said M'Intyre ; " may 
 I inquire to what regiment Mr. Lovel belongs ? " — Mr. Lovel gave 
 him the number of the regiment. — " It happens strangely that we 
 should never have met before, Mr. Lovel. I know your regir 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. l6S 
 
 ment very well, and have served along with them at different 
 times." 
 
 A blush crossed Level's countenance. " I have not lately been 
 with my regiment," he replied ; " I served the last campaign upon 
 
 the staff of General Sir ." 
 
 " Indeed ! that is more wonderful than the other circumstance ! 
 
 — for although I did not serve with General Sir , yet I 
 
 had an opportunity of knowing the names of the officers who held 
 situations in his family, and I cannot recollect that of Lovel." 
 
 At this observation Level again blushed so deeply as to attract 
 the attention of the whole company, while a scornful laugh seemed 
 to indicate Captain M'Intyre's triumph. "There is something 
 strange in this," said Oldbuck to himself ; " but I will not readily 
 give up my phoanix of post-chaise companions— all his actions, lan- 
 guage, and bearing, are those of a gentleman." 
 
 Lovel, in the meanwhile, had taken out his pocket-book, and 
 selecting a letter, from which he took off the envelope, he handed 
 it to M'Intyre. " You know the General's hand, in all probability 
 — I own I ought not to show these exaggerated expressions of his 
 regard and esteem for me." The letter contained a very handsome 
 compliment from the officer in question for some military service 
 lately performed. Captain M'Intyre, as he glanced his-eye over it, 
 could not deny that it was written in the General's hand, but dryly 
 observed, as he returned it, that the address was wanting, " The 
 address. Captain M'Intyre," answered Lovel, in the same tone, 
 " shall be at your service whenever you choose to inquire after it." 
 " I certainly shall not fail to do so," rejoined the soldier. 
 " Come, come," exclaimed Oldbuck, " what is the meaning of all 
 this? — Have we got Hiren here? — ^We'U have no swaggering, 
 youngsters. Are you come from the wars abroad, to stir up domestic 
 strife in our peaceful land ? Are you like bull-dog puppies, for- 
 sooth, that, when the bull, poor fellow, is removed from the ring, 
 fall to brawl among themselves, worry each other, and bite honest 
 folk's shins that are standing by ? " 
 
 Sir Arthur trusted, he said, the young gentlemen would not so far 
 forget themselves as to grow warm upon such a trifling subject as 
 the back of a letter. 
 
 Both the disputants disclaimed any such intention, and, with high 
 colour and flashing eyes, protested they were never so cool in their 
 lives. But an obvious damp was cast over the party ; they talked 
 in future too much by the rule to be sociable, and Lovel, conceiving 
 himself the object of cold and suspicious looks from the rest of the 
 company, and sensible that his indirect replies had given them per- 
 mission to entertain strange opinions respecting him, made a gallant 
 
i66 THE^ ANTIQUARY. 
 
 determination to sacrifice the pleasure he had proposed in spending 
 the day at Knockwinnock. 
 
 He affected, therefore, to complain of a violent headache, occa- 
 sioned by the heat of the day, to which he had not been exposed 
 since his illness, and made a formal apology to Sir Arthur, who, 
 listening more to recent suspicion than to the gratitude due for 
 former services, did not press him to keep his engagement more 
 than good breeding exactly demanded. 
 
 When Level took leave of the ladies. Miss Wardour's manner 
 seemed more anxious than he had hitherto remarked it. She indi- 
 cated by a glance of her eye towards Captain M'Intyre, perceptible 
 only by Lovel, the subject of her alarm, and hoped, in a voice 
 greatly under her usual tone, it was not a less pleasant engagement 
 which deprived them of the pleasure of Mr. Lovel's company. " No 
 engagement had intervened," he assured her ; " it was only the 
 return of a complaint by which he had been for some time occa- 
 sionally attacked." 
 
 " The best remedy in such a case is prudence, and I — every 
 friend of Mr. Lovel's will expect him to employ it." 
 
 Lovel bowed low and coloured deeply, and Miss Wardour, as if she 
 felt that she had said too much, turned and got into the carriage. 
 Lovel had next to part with Oldbuck, who, during this interval, 
 had, with Caxon's assistance, been arranging his disordered periwig, 
 and brushing his coat, which exhibited some marks of the rude path 
 they had traversed. " What, man ! " said Oldbuck, " you are not 
 going to leave us on account of that foolish Hector's indiscreet 
 curiosity and vehemence ? — Why, he is a thoughtless boy — a spoiled 
 child from the time he was in the nurse's arms — he threw his coral 
 and bells at my head for refusing him a bit of sugar — and you have 
 too much sense to mind such a shrewish boy — cequam servare 
 mentem is the motto of our friend Horace. I'll school Hector by 
 and by, and put it all to rights." But Lovel persisted in his design 
 of returning to Fairport. 
 
 The Antiquary then assumed a graver tone. " Take h^ed, young 
 man, to your present feelings. Your life has been given you for 
 useful and valuable purposes, and should be reserved to illustrate 
 the literature of your country, when you are not called upon to ex- 
 pose it in her defence, or in the rescue of the innocent. Private 
 war, a practice unknown to the civilized ancients, is, of aU the 
 absurdities introduced by the Gothic tribes, the most gross, impious, 
 and cruel. Let me hear no more of these absurd quarrels, and I 
 will show you the treatise upon the dueUo, which I composed when 
 the town-clerk and provost Mucldewhame chose to assume the 
 privileges of gentlemen, and challenged each other. I thought of 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 167 
 
 printing my Essay, whicli is signed Pacificator; but there was no 
 need, as tlie matter was taken up by the town-council of the 
 borough." 
 
 " But I assure you, my dear sir, there is nothing between Captain 
 M'Intyre and me that can render such respectable interference 
 necessary." 
 
 " See it be so ; for otherwise, I will stand second to both 
 parties." 
 
 So saying, the old gentleman got into the chaise, close to which 
 Miss M'Intyre had detained her brother, upon the same principle 
 that the owner of a quarrelsome dog keeps him by his side to pre- 
 vent his fastening upon another. But Hector contrived to give her 
 precaution the slip, for, as he was on horseback, he lingered behind 
 the carriages until they had fairly turned the corner in the road to 
 Knockwinnock, and then wheeling his horse's head round, gave him. 
 the spur in the opposite direction. 
 
 A very few minutes brought him up with Lovel, who, perhaps 
 anticipating his intention, had not put his horse beyond a slow 
 walk, when the clatter of hoofs behind him announced Captain 
 M'Intyre. The young soldier, his natural heat of tempei: exaspe- 
 rated by the rapidity of motion, reined his horse up suddenly and 
 violently by Lovel's side, and touching his hat slightly, inquired, in 
 a very haughty toae of voice, " What am I to understand, sir, by 
 your telling me that your address was at my service ? " 
 
 " Simply, sir," replied Lovel, " that my name is Lovel, and that 
 my residence is, for the present, Fairport, as you will see by this 
 card." 
 
 "And this is all the information you are disposed to give 
 me?" 
 
 " I see no right you have to require more." 
 
 "I find you, sir, in company with my sister," said the young 
 soldier, " and I have a right to know who is admitted into Miss 
 M'Intyre's society." 
 
 " I shall take the liberty of disputing that right," replied Lovel, 
 with a manner as haughty as that of the young soldier ; " you find 
 me in society who are satisfied with the degree of information on 
 my affairs which I have thought proper to communicate, and you, 
 a mere stranger, have no right to inquire further." 
 
 " Mr. Lovel, if you served as you say you have "- 
 
 " If ! " interrupted Lovel — "ifl have served as/ say I have ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, such is my expression — if you have so served, you 
 must know that you owe me satisfaction either in one way or 
 other." 
 
 " If that be your opinion, I shall be proud to give it to you, 
 
i68 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Captain M'Intyre, in the way in which the word is generally used 
 among gentlemen." 
 
 " Very well, sir," rejoined Hector, and, turning his horse round, 
 galloped off to overtake his party. 
 
 His absence had already alarmed them, and his sister, having 
 stopped the carriage, had her neck stretched out of the window to 
 see where he was. 
 
 " What is the matter with you now ? " said the Antiquary, " riding 
 to and fro as your neck were upon the wager — why do you not keep 
 up with the carriage ? " 
 
 " I forgot my glove, sir," said Hector. 
 
 " Forgot your glove ! — I presume you meant to say you went to 
 throw it down — But I will take order with you, my young gentle- 
 man — you shall return with me this night to Monkbarns." So 
 saying, he bid the postilion go on. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 If you fail Honour here. 
 
 Never presume to serve her any more ; 
 
 Bid farewell to the integrity of armes. 
 
 And the honourable name of soldier 
 
 Fall from you, like a shivered wreath of laurel 
 
 By thunder struck from a desertlesse forehead. 
 
 A Faire Qtiarrell. 
 
 Early the next morning, a gentleman came to wait upon Mr. 
 Lovel, who was up and ready to receive him. He was a military 
 gentleman, a friend of Captain M'Intyre's, at present in Fairport 
 on the recruiting service. Lovel and he were slightly known to 
 each other. " I presume, sir," said Mr. Lesley (such was the 
 name of the visitor), " that you guess the occasion of my troubling 
 you so early ? " 
 
 " A message from Captain M'Intyre, I presume ? " 
 
 " The same— he holds himself injured by the manner in which 
 you declined yesterday to answer certain inquiries which he con- 
 ceived himself entitled to make respecting a gentleman whom he 
 found in intimate society with his family." 
 
 " May I ask, if you, Mr. Lesley, would have inclined to satisfy 
 interrogatories so haughtily and unceremoniously put to you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not ; and therefore, as I know the warmth of my friend 
 M'Intyre on such occasions, I feel very desirous of acting as peace- 
 maker. From Mr. Lovel's very gentleman-like manners, every one 
 must strongly wish to see him repel all that sort of dubious calumny 
 which will attach itself to one whose situation is not fully explained. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. ^69 
 
 If he will permit me, in friendly conciliation, to inform Captain 
 M'Intyre of his real name, for we are led to conclude that of Lovel 
 is assumed " — r- 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, but I cannot admit that inference." 
 
 " Or at least," said Lesley, proceeding, " that it is not the name 
 by which Mr. Lovel has been at all times distinguished — if Mr. 
 Lovel will have the goodness to explain this circumstance, which, 
 in my opinion, he should do in justice to his own character, I will 
 answer for the amicable arrangement of this unpleasant business." 
 
 " Which is to say, Mr. Lesley, that if I condescend, to answer 
 questions which no man has a right to ask, and which are now put 
 to me under penalty of Captain M'Intyre's resentment. Captain 
 M'Intyre will condescend to rest satisfied ? Mr. Lesley, I have just 
 one word to say on this subject — I have no doubt my secret, if I 
 had one, might be safely entrusted to your honour, but I do not feel 
 called upon to satisfy the curiosity of any one. Captain M'Intyre 
 met me in society which of itself was a warrant to all the world, 
 and particularly ought to be such to him, that I was a gentleman. 
 He has, in my opinion, no right to go any further, or to inquire the 
 pedigree, rank, or circumstances of a stranger, who, without seeking 
 any intimate connexion with him, or his, chances to dine with his 
 uncle, or walk in company with his sister." 
 
 " In that case. Captain M'Intyre requests you to be informed, 
 that your farther visits at Monkbarns, and all connexion with Miss 
 M'Intyre, must be dropt, as disagreeable to him." 
 
 " I shall certainly," said Lovel, " visit Mr. Oldbuck when it suits 
 me, without paying the least respect to his nephew's threats or 
 irritable feelings. I respect the young lady's name too much (though 
 nothing can be slighter than our acquaintance) to introduce it into 
 such a discussion." 
 
 " Since that is your resolution, sir," answered Lesley, " Captain 
 M'Intyre requests that Mr. Lovel, unless he wishes to be announced 
 as a very dubious character, will favour him with a meeting this 
 evening, at seven, at the thorn-tree in the Uttle valley close by the 
 ruins of St. Ruth." 
 
 " Most unquestionably, I will wait upon him. There is only one 
 difficulty — I must find a friend to accompany me, and where to 
 seek one on this short notice, as I have no acquaintance in Fair- 
 port 1 will be on the spot, however. Captain M'Intyre may be 
 
 assured of that." 
 
 Lesley had taken his hat, and was as far as the door of the apart- 
 ment, when, as if moved by the peculiarity of Lovel's situation, he 
 returned, and thus addressed him : " Mr. Lovel, there is something 
 so singular in all this, that I cannot help again resuming the argu- 
 
170 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 ment. You must be yourself aware at this moment of the incon- 
 venience of your preserving an incognito, for which, I am con- 
 vinced, there can be no dishonourable reason. Still, this mystery 
 renders it difficult for you to procure the assistance of a friend in a 
 crisis so delicate — nay, let me add, that many persons wiU even 
 consider it as a piece of Quixotry in M'Intyre to give you a meet- 
 ing, while your character and circumstances are involved in such 
 obscurity;" 
 
 " I understand your innuendo, Mr. Lesley,'' rejoined Lovel ; "and 
 though I might be offended at its severity, I am not so, because it 
 is meant kindly. But, in my opinion, he is entitled to all the pri- 
 vileges of a gentleman, to whose charge, during the time he has 
 been known in the society where he happens to move, nothing can 
 be laid that is unhandsome or unbecoming. For a friend, I dare 
 say I shall find some one or other who will do me that good turn ; 
 and if his experience be less than I could wish, I am certain not 
 to suffer through that circumstance when you are in the field for 
 my antagonist." 
 
 " I trust you will not," said Lesley ; " but as I must, for my own 
 sake, be anxious to divide so heavy a responsibility with a capable 
 assistant, allow me to say, that Lieutenant Taffril's gun-brig is 
 come into the road-stead, and he himself is now at old Caxon's, 
 where he lodges. 'I think you have the same degree of acquaint- 
 ance with him as with me, and, as I am sure I should willingly 
 have rendered you such a service were I not engaged on the other 
 side, I am convinced he will do so at your first request." 
 
 " At the thorn-tree, then, Mr. Lesley, at seven this evening — the 
 arms, I presume, are pistols ? " 
 
 " Exactly. M'Intyre has chosen the hour at which he can best 
 escape from Monkbarns — he was with me this morning by five, in 
 order to return and present himself before his uncle was up. 
 Good-morning to you, Mr. Lovel." — And Lesley left the apartment. 
 
 Lovel was as brave as most men ; but none can internally regard 
 such a crisis as now approached, without deep feelings of awe and 
 uncertainty. In a few hours he might be in another world to answer 
 for an action which his calmer thought told him was unjustifiable 
 in a religious point of view, or he might be wandering about in the 
 present like Cain, with the blood of his brother on his head. And 
 all this might be saved by speaking a single word. Yet pride whis- 
 pered, that to speak that word now, would be ascribed to a motive 
 which would degrade him more low than even the most injurious 
 reasons that could be assigned for his silence. Every one, Miss 
 Wardour included, must then, he thought, account him a mean dis- 
 honoured poltroon, who gave to the fear of meeting Captain 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 171 
 
 M'Intyre the explanation he had refused to the calm and hand- 
 some expostulations of Mr. Lesley. M'Intyre's insolent behaviour 
 to himself personjtUy, the air of pretension which he assumed to- 
 wards Miss Wardour, and the extreme injustice, arrogance, and in- 
 civility of his demands upon a perfect stranger, seemed to justify 
 him in repelling his rude investigation. In short, he formed the 
 resolution which might have been expected from so young a man, 
 to shut the eyes, namely, of his calmer reason, and follow the 
 dictates of his offended pride. With this purpose he sought Lieu- 
 tenant Taffril. 
 
 The lieutenant received him with the good-breeding of a gentle- 
 man and the frankness of a sailor, and listened with no small sur- 
 prise to the detail which preceded his request that he might be 
 favoured with his company at his meeting with Captain M'Intyre. 
 When he had finished, Taffril rose up and walked through his 
 apartment once or twise. " This is a most singular circumstance," 
 
 he said, " arid really" 
 
 " I am conscious, Mr. Taffril, how little I am entitled to make 
 my present request, but the urgency of circumstances hardly leaves 
 me an alternative." 
 
 ^ " Permit me to ask you one question," asked the sailor ; " is 
 there anything of which you are ashamed in the circumstances 
 which you have declined to communicate ? " 
 
 " Upon my honour, no ; there is nothing but what, in a very 
 short time, I trust I may publish to the whole world." 
 
 " I hope the mystery arises from no false shame at the lowness 
 of your friend's perhaps, or connexions ! " 
 " No, on my word," replied Lovel. 
 
 " I have little sympathy for that folly," said Taffril ; " indeed I 
 cannot be supposed to have any ; for, speaking of my relations, I 
 may be said to have come myself from before the mast, and I be- 
 lieve I shall very soon form a connexion, which the world will think 
 low enough, with a very amiable girl, to whom I have been attached 
 since we were next-door neighbours, at a time when I little thought 
 of the good fortune which has brought me forward in the service." 
 " I assure you, Mr. Taffril," replied Lovel, " whatever were the 
 rank of my parents, I should never think of concealing it from a 
 spirit of petty pride. But I am so situated at present, that I can- 
 not enter on the subject of my family with any propriety." 
 
 " It is quite enough," said the honest sailor, > " give me your hand ; 
 I'll see you as well through this business as I can, though it is but 
 an unpleasant one after all — But what of that ? our own honour has 
 the next call on us after our country ; — you are a lad of spirit, and 
 I own I think Mr. Hector M'Intyre, with his long pedigree and his 
 
172 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 airs of family, very much of a jackanapes. His father was a soldier 
 of fortune as I am a sailor— he himself, I suppose, is little better, 
 unless just as his uncle pleases — and whether one pursues fortune 
 by land, or sea, makes no great difference, I should fancy." 
 
 " None in the universe, certainly," answered Lovel. 
 
 "Well," said his new ally, "we will 'dine together and arrange 
 matters for this rencounter. I hope you understand the use Of the 
 weapon ? " 
 
 " Not particularly," Lovel replied. 
 
 " I am sorry for that — M'Intyre is said to be a marksman.'' 
 
 " I am sorry for it also," said Lovel, " both for his sake and my 
 own — I must then, in self-defence, take my aim as well as I can." 
 
 " Well," added Taffril, " I will have our surgeon's mate on the 
 field ; a good clever young fellow at caulking a shot-hole. I will 
 let Lesley, who is an honest fellow for a landsman, know that he 
 attends for the benefit of either party. — Is there anything I can do 
 for you in case of an accident ? " 
 
 " I have but little occasion to trouble you," said Lovel. " This 
 small billet contains the ' key of my escritoir, and my very brief 
 secret — there is one letter in the escritoir " (digesting a temporary 
 swelling of the heart as he spoke) " which I beg the favour of you 
 to deliver with your own hand." 
 
 " I understand," said the sailor : " nay, my friend, never be 
 ashamed for the matter — an affectionate heart may overflow for an 
 instant at the eyes, if the ship were clearing for action — and, de- 
 pend on it, whatever your injunctions are, Dan Taffril will regard 
 them like the bequest of a dying brother. But this is all stuff; — 
 we must get our things in fighting order, and you will dine with me 
 and my little surgeon's mate, at the Graeme's- Arms over the way, at 
 • four o'clock." 
 
 " Agreed," said Lovel, 
 
 " Agreed," said Taffril ; and the whole affair was arranged. 
 
 It was a beautiful summer evening, and the shadow of the soli- 
 tary thorn-tree was lengthening upon the short green sward of the 
 narrow valley, which was skirted by the woods that closed around 
 the ruins of St. Ruth. 
 
 Lovel and Lieutenant Taffril, with the surgeon, came upon the 
 ground with a purpose of a nature very uncongenial to the soft, 
 mild, and pacific chai'acter of the hour and scene. The sheep, 
 which during the ardent heat of the day had sheltered in the 
 breaches and hollows of the gravelly bank, or under the roots of 
 the aged and stunted trees, had now spread themselves upon the 
 face of the hill to enjoy their evening's pasture, and bleated to each 
 other with that melancholy sound which at once gives life to a 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 173 
 
 landscape, and marks its solitude. Taffril and Lovel came on in deep 
 conference,' having, for fear of discovery, sent their horses back to 
 the town by the Lieutenant's servant. The opposite party had not 
 yet appeared on the field. But when they came uponthe ground, 
 there sat upon the roots of the old thorn, a figure as vigorous in his 
 decay as the moss-grown but strong and contorted boughs which 
 served him for a canopy. It was old Ochiltree. " This is embar- 
 rassing enough," said Lovel ; " how shall we get rid of this old 
 fellow?" 
 
 " Here, father Adam," cried Taffril, who knew the mendicant of 
 yore ; "here's half-a-crown for you — You must go to the Four Horse- 
 shoes yonder — the little inn, you know, and inquire for a servant 
 with blue and yellow livery. If he is not come, you'll wait for 
 him, and tell him we shall be with his master in about an hour's 
 time. At any rate, wait there till we come back, — and — get off 
 with you — come, come, weigh anchor." 
 
 " I thank ye for your awmous," said Ochiltree, pocketing the 
 piece of money ; " but I beg your pardon, Mr. Taffril — I cahna gang 
 your errand e'en now." 
 
 " Why, not, man ? what can hinder you ? " 
 
 " I wad speak a word wi' young Mr. Lovel." 
 
 " With me ? " answered Lovel : " what would you say with me .'' 
 Come, say on, and be brief." 
 
 The mendicant led him a few paces aside. " Are ye indebted 
 onything to the Laird o' Monkbarns .' " 
 
 "Indebted! — no, not I— what of that .' — what makes you 
 think so?" 
 
 " Ye maun ken I was at the shirra's the day ; for, God help me, 
 I gang about a' gates like the troubled spirit ; and wha suld come 
 whirling there in a post-chaise, but Monkbarns in an unco 
 carfufSe— now it's no a little thing that will make his honour take a 
 chaise and post-horse twa days rinnin'." 
 
 " Well, well ; but what is all this to me ? " 
 
 " Ou, ye'se hear, ye'se hear— Weel, Monkbarns is closeted wi' the 
 shirra whatever puir folk may be left thereout — ye needna doubt 
 that^ — the gentlemen are aye unco civil amang themsells." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, my old friend " 
 
 " Canna ye bid me gang to the deevil at ance, Mr. Lovel ? It wad 
 be mair purpose fa'ard than to speak o' heaven in that impatient gate." 
 
 " But I have private business with Lieutenant Taffril here." 
 
 " Weel, weel, a' in gude time," said the beggar — " I can use a Httle 
 wee bit freedom wi' Mr. Daniel Taffril ; — mon/s the peery and the 
 tap I worked for him langsyne, for I was a worker in wood as weel 
 as a tinkler." 
 
174 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " You are either mad, Adam, or have a mind to drive me 
 mad." 
 
 " Nane o' the twa," said Edie, suddenly changing his manner 
 from the protracted drawl of the mendicant to a brief and decided 
 tone. " The shirra sent foV his clerk, and as the lad is rather light 
 o' the tongue, I fand it was for drawing a warrant to apprehend 
 you — I thought it had been on a fugie warrant for debt ; for a' 
 body kens the laird likes naebody to pit his hand in his pouch — 
 But now I may baud my tongue, for I see the M'Intyre lad and 
 Mr. Lesley coming up, and I guess that Monkbarns's purpose was 
 very kind, and that yours is muckle waur than it should be." 
 
 The antagonists now approached, and saluted with the stern 
 civility which befitted the occasion. " What has this old fellow to 
 do here?" said M'Intyre.. 
 
 " I am an auld fallow," said Edie, " but I am also an auld soldier 
 o' your father's, for I served wi' him in the 42d." 
 
 " Serve where you please, you have no title to intrude on us," 
 said M'Intyre, " or " — and he lifted his cane in terrorem, though 
 without the idea of touching the old man. But Ochiltree's courage 
 was roused by the insult. " Haud down your switch. Captain 
 M'Intyre ! I am an auld soldier, as I said before, and I'll take 
 muckle frae your father's son ; but no a touch o' the wand while my 
 pike-staff will haud thegither." 
 
 " Well, well, I was wrong->^I was wrong," said M'Intyre; "here's 
 a crown for you — go your ways — what's the matter now ? " 
 
 The old man drew himself up to the full advantage of his un- 
 common height, and in despite of his dress, which indeed had more 
 of the pilgrim than the ordinary beggar, looked, from height, man- 
 ner, and emphasis of voice and gesture, rather like a grey palmer 
 or eremite preacher, the ghostly counsellor of the young men who 
 were around him, than the object of their charity. His speech, in- 
 deed, was as homely as his habit, but as bold aijd unceremonious 
 as his erect and dignified demeanour. " What are ye come here 
 for, young men ? " he said, addressing himself to the surprised au- 
 dience ; " are ye come amongst the most lovely works of God to 
 break his laws ? Have ye left the works of man, the houses and the 
 cities that are but clay and dust, like those that built them ; and 
 are ye come here among the peaceful hills, and by the quiet waters, 
 that wiU last whiles aught earthly shaU endure, to destroy each 
 other's lives, that wiU have but an unco short time, by the course of 
 nature, to make up a lang account at the close o't ? O sirs ! hae ye 
 brothers, sisters, fathers, that hae tended ye, and mothers that hae 
 travailed for ye, friends that hae ca'd ye like a piece o' their ain 
 heart ? And is this the way ye tak to make them childless and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 17S 
 
 brotherless and friendless ? Olion ! it's an ill feight whar he that 
 wins has the warst o't. Think on't, bairns. — I'm a puir man — but 
 I'm an auld man too — and what my poverty takes awa frae the 
 weight o' my counsel, grey hairs and a truthfu' heart should add it 
 twenty times — Gang hame, gang hame, like gude lads — the French 
 will be ower to harry us ane o' thae days, and ye'U hae feigthing 
 enough, and maybe auld Edie will hirple out himsell if he can get 
 a feal-dike to lay his gun ower, and may live to tell you whilk o' ye 
 does the best where there's a good cause afore ye." 
 
 There was something in the undaunted and independent manner, 
 hairdy sentiment, and manly rude elocution of the old man, that 
 had its effect upon the party, and particularly on the seconds, 
 whose pride was uninterested in bringing the dispute to a bloody 
 arbitrement, and who, on the contrary, eagerly watched for an 
 opportunity to recommend reconciliation. 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Lesley," said Taffril, " old Adam speaks 
 like an oracle — Our friends here were very angry yesterday, and of 
 course very foolish ; — To-day they should be cool, or at least wb 
 must be so in their behalf — I think the word should be forget and 
 forgive on both sides, that we should all shake hands, fire these 
 foolish crackers in the air, and go home to sup in a body at the 
 Grffime's-Arms." 
 
 " I would heartily recommend it," said Lesley ; " for, amidst a 
 great deal of heat and irritation on both sides, I confess myself un- 
 able to discover any rational ground of quarrel." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said M'Intyre, very coldly, " all this should have 
 been thought of before. In my opinion, persons that have carried 
 this matter so far as we have done, and who should part without 
 carrying it any farther, might go to supper at the Grasme's-Arms 
 very joyously, but would rise the next morning with reputations as 
 ragged as our friend here, who has obliged us with a rather unne- 
 cessary display of his oratory. I speak for myself, that I find my- 
 self bound to call upon you to proceed without more delay." 
 
 "And I," said Lovel, "as I never desired any, have also to 
 request these gentlemen to arrange preliminaries as fast as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " Bairns ! bairns ! " cried old Ochiltree ; but perceiving he was 
 no longer attended to — " Madmen, I should say — but your blood 
 be on your heads ! " And the old man drew off from the ground, 
 which was now measured out by the seconds, and continued mut- 
 tering and talking to himself in sullen indignation, mixed with 
 anxiety, and with a strong feeling of painful curiosity. Without 
 paying further attention to his presence or remonstrances, Mr. 
 Lesley and the Lieutenant made the necessary arrangempnts for the 
 
176 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 duel, and it was agreed that both parties should fire when Mr. 
 Lesley dropped his handkerchief. 
 
 The fatal sign was given, and both fired almost in the same 
 moment. Captain M'Intyre's ball grazed the side of his opponent, 
 but did not draw blood. That of Lovel was more true to the aim ; 
 M'Intyre reeled and fell. Raising himself on his arm, his first 
 exclamation was, " It is nothing — it is nothing — give us the other 
 pistols." But in an instant he said, in a lower tone, " I believe I 
 have enough, and what's worse, I fear I deserve it. Mr. Lovel, or 
 whatever your name is, fly and save yourself — Bear all witness, I 
 provoked this matter." Then raising himself again on his arm, he 
 added, " Shake hands, Lovel — I believe you to be a gentleman — 
 forgive my rudeness, and 1 forgive you my death — My poor 
 sister ! " 
 
 The surgeon came up to perform his part of the tragedy, and 
 Lovel stood gazing on the evil of which Jie had been the active, 
 though unwilling cause, with a dizzy and bewildered eye. He was 
 roused from his trance by the grasp of the mendicant — " Why 
 stand you gazing on your deed? — What's doomed is doomed — 
 What's done is past recalling. But awa, awa, if ye wad save your 
 young blood from a shamefu' death — I see the men out by yonder 
 that are come ower late to part ye — but out and alack ! sune eneugh 
 and ower sune to drag ye to prison." 
 
 " He is right — ^he is right," exclaimed Taffril ; " you must not 
 attempt to get on the high-road — get into the wood till night. My 
 brig will be under sail by that time, and at three in the morning, 
 when the tide will serve, I shall have the boat waiting for you at the 
 Mussel-crag. Away — away, for Heaven's sake ! " 
 
 " O yes ! fly, fly ! " repeated the wounded man, his words falter- 
 ing with convulsive sobs. 
 
 " Come with me," said the mendicant, almost dragging him off ; 
 " the captain's plan is the best — I'll carry ye to a place where ye 
 might be concealed in the meantime, were they to seek ye wi' 
 sleuth-hounds." 
 
 " Go, go," again urged Lieutenant Taffril — " to stay here is mere 
 madness." 
 
 " It was worse madness to have come hither," said Lovel, press- 
 ing his hand — " But farewell 1 " and he followed Ochiltree into the 
 recesses of the wood. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The Lord Abbot had a soui 
 
 Subtile and quick, and searching as the fire ; 
 
 By magic stairs he went as deep as hell, 
 
 And if in devils' possession gold be kept. 
 
 He brought some sure from thence — 'tis hid in caves, 
 
 Known, save to me, to none. 
 
 The Wonder of a Kmgdo7ne. 
 
 LovEL almost mechanically followed the beggar, who led the 
 way with a hasty and steady pace, through bush and brambjf, 
 avoiding the beaten path, and often turning to listen whether there 
 were any sounds of pursuit behind them. They sometimes de- 
 scended into the very bed of the torrent, sometimes kept a narrow 
 and precarious path, that the sheep (which, with the sluttish negli- 
 gence towards property of that sort universal in Scotland, were 
 allowed to stray in the copse) had made along the very verge of its 
 overhanging banks. From time to time Level had a glance of the 
 path which he had traversed the day before in company with Sir 
 Arthur, the Antiquary, and the young ladies. Dejected, embar- 
 rassed, and occupied by a thousand inquietudes, as he then was, 
 what would he now have given to regain the sense of innocence 
 which alone can counterbalance a thousand evils ! " Yet, then," 
 such was his hasty and involuntary reflections, "even then, guiltless 
 and valued by all around me, I thought myself unhappy. What 
 am I now, with this young man's blood upon my hands ? — the feel- 
 ing of pride which urged me to the deed has now deserted me, as 
 the actual fiend himself is said to do those whom he has tempted 
 to guilt." Even his affection for Miss Wardour sunk for the time 
 before the first pangs of remorse, and he thought he could kave 
 encountered every agony of slighted love to have had the con- 
 scious freedom from blood-guiltiness which he possessed in the 
 morning. 
 
 These painful reflections were not interrupted by any conversa- 
 tion on the part of his guide, who threaded the thicket before him, 
 now holding back the sprays to make his path easy, now exhorting 
 him to make haste, now muttering to himself, after the custom of 
 solitary and neglected old age, words which might have escaped 
 Lovel's ear even had he listened to them, or which, apprehended 
 and retained, were too isolated to convey any connected meaning, 
 —a habit which may be often observed among people of the old 
 man's age and calling. 
 
178 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 At length, as Lovel, exhausted by his late indisposition, the har- 
 rowing feelings by which he was agitated, and the exertion neces- 
 sary to keep up with his guide in a path so rugged, began to flag 
 and faU behind, two or three very precarious steps placed him on 
 the front of a precipice overhung with brushwood and copse. Heire 
 a cave, as narrow in its entrance as a fox-earth, was indicated by a 
 small fissure in the rock, screened by the bows of an aged oak, 
 which, anchored by its thick and twisted roots in the upper part of 
 the cleft, flung its branches almost straight outward from the cliff, 
 concealing it effectually from all observation. It might indeed have 
 escaped the attention even of those who had stood at its very open- 
 ing, so uninviting was the portal at which the beggar entered. But 
 within, the cavern was higher and more roomy, cut into two sepa- 
 rate branches, which, intersecting each other at right angles, formed 
 an emblem of the cross, and indicated the abode of an anchoret of 
 former times. There are many caves of the same kind in different 
 parts of Scotland. I need only instance those of Gorton, near 
 Rosslyn, in a scene well known to the admirers of romantic 
 nature. 
 
 The light within the cave was a dusky twilight at the entrance, 
 which failed altogether in the inner recesses. " Few folks ken o' 
 this place," said the old man ; " to the best o' my knowledge, there's 
 just twa living by mysell, and that's Jingling Jock and the Lang 
 Linker. I have had mony a thought, that when I fand mysell auld and 
 forfaim, and no able to enjoy God's blessed air ony langer, I wad 
 drag mysell here wi' a pickle ait-meal — and see, there's a bit bonny 
 drapping well that popples that self-same gate simmer and winter ; 
 — and I wad e'en streek mysell out here, and fibide my removal, 
 like an auld dog that trails its useless ugsome carcass into some 
 bush or bracken no to gie living things a soonner wi' the sight o't 
 when it's dead — Ay, and then, when the dogs barked at the lone 
 farm-stead, the gudewife wad cry, ' Whisht, stirra, that'll be auld 
 Edie,' and the bits o' weans wad up, puir things, and toddle to the 
 door, to pu' in the auld Blue-Gown that mends a' their bonny-dies 
 — but there wad be nae mair word o' Edie, I trow." 
 
 He then led Lovel, who followed him unresistingly, into one of 
 the interior branches of the cave. " Here," he said, " is a bit turn- 
 pike-stair that gaes up to the auld kirk abune. Some folks say this 
 place was howkit out by the monks lang syne to hide their treasure 
 in, and some said that they used to bring things into the abbey this 
 gate by night, that they durstna sae weel hae brought in by the 
 main port and in open day —And some said that ane o' them turned 
 a saint (or aiblins wad hae had folki think sae), and settled him 
 down in this Saint Ruth's cell, as the auld folks aye ca'd it, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 179 
 
 garr'd big the stair, that he might gang up to the kirk when they 
 were at the divine service. The Laird o' Monkbarns wad hae a 
 hantle to say about it, as he has about maist things, if he ken'd 
 only about the place. But whether it was made for man's devices 
 or God's service, I have seen ower muckle sin done in it in my day, 
 and far ower muckle have I been partaker of — ay, even here in this 
 dark cove. Mony a gudewife's been wondering what for the red 
 cock didna craw her up in the morning, when he's been roasting, 
 puir fallow, in this dark hole — And, ohon ! I wish that and the like 
 o' that had been the warst o't ! Whiles they wad hae heard the din 
 we were making in the very bowels o' the earth, when Sanders 
 Aikwood, that was forester in thae days, the father o' Ringan that 
 now is, was gaun daundering about the wood at e'en to see after the 
 laird's game — and whiles he wad hae seen a glance o' the light frae 
 the door o' the cave, ilaughtering against the hazels on the other 
 bank ; — and then siccan stories as Sanders had about the worri- 
 cows and gyre-carlins that haunted about the auld wa's at e'en, and 
 the lights that he had seen, and the cries that he had heard, when 
 there was nae mortal ee open but his ain ; and eh ! as he wad 
 thrum them ower and ower to the like o'me ayont the ingle at e'en, 
 and as I wad giet the auld silly carle grane for grane, and tale for 
 tale, though I ken'd muckle better about it than ever he did. Ay, 
 ay — they were daft days thae ; — ^but they were a' vanity, and waur, 
 — and it's fitting that they wha hae led a light and evil life, and 
 abused charity when they were young, suld aiblins come to lack it 
 when they are auld." 
 
 While Ochiltree was thus recounting the exploits and tricks of 
 iis earlier life, with a tone in which glee and compunction alter- 
 nately predominated, his unfortunate auditor had sat down upon the 
 hermit's seat, hewn out of the solid rock, and abandoned himself to 
 that lassitude, both of mind and body, which generally follows a 
 course of events that have agitated both. The effect of his late 
 indisposition, which had much weakened his system, contributed to 
 this lethargic despondency. " The puir bairn ! " said auld Edie, 
 " an he sleeps in this damp hole, he'll maybe wauken nae mair, or 
 catch some sair disease — it's no the same to him as to the like 
 o' us, that can sleep ony gate an anes our wames are fu'. Sit up, 
 Maister Lovel, lad — ^After a's come and gane, I dare say the captain- 
 lad will do weel eneugh — and, after a', ye are no the first that has 
 had this misfortune. I hae seen mony a man killed, and helped to 
 kill them mysell, though there was nae quarrel between us — and if 
 it isna wrang to kill folk we have nae quarrel wi', just because they 
 wear another sort of a cockade, and speak a foreign language, I 
 canna see but a man may have excuse for killing his ain mortal foe, 
 
 M 2 
 
i8o THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 that comes armed to the fair field to kill him. I dinna say it's 
 right — God forbid — or that it isna sinfu' to tak away what ye canna 
 restore, and that's the breath of man, whilk is in his nostrils ; — but 
 I say it is a sin to be forgiven if it's repented of. Sinfu' men are 
 we a' ; but if ye wad believe an auld grey sinner that has seen the 
 evil o' his ways, there is as much promise atween the twa boards 
 o' the Testament as wad save the warst o' us, could we but think 
 sae." 
 
 With such scraps of comfort and of divinity as he possessed, the 
 mendicant thus continued to solicit and compel the attention of 
 Lovel, until the twilight began to fade into night. " Now," said 
 Ochiltree, " I will carry ye to a mair convenient place, where I hae 
 sat mony a time to hear the howlit crying out of the ivy tod, and to 
 see the moonlight come through the auld windows o' the ruins. 
 There can be naebody come here after this time o' night ; and if 
 they hae made ony search, thae blackguard shirra'-officers and con- 
 stables, it will hae been ower lang syne. Od, they are as great 
 cowards as ither folk, wi' a' their warrants and king's keys* — I hae 
 gien some o' them a gliff in my day, when they were coming rather 
 ower near me — But, laudedbe grace for it ! they canna stir me now 
 for ony waur than an auld man and a beggar, and my badge is a gude 
 protection ; and then Miss Isabella Wardour is a tower o' strength, 
 ye ken" — (Lovel sighed)—" Aweel, dinna be cast down — bowls may 
 a' row right yet — gie the lassie time to ken her mind — She's the 
 wale o' the country for beauty, and a gude friend o' mine — I 
 gang by the bridewell as safe as by the kirk on a Sabbath — deil 
 ony o' them daur hurt a hair o' auld Edie's head now — I keep the 
 crown o' the causey when I gae to the borough, and rub shouthers 
 wi' a bailie wi' as little concern as an he were a brock." 
 
 While the mendicant spoke thus, he was busied in removing a 
 few loose stones in one angle of the - cave, which obscured the 
 entrance of the staircase of which he had spoken, and led the way 
 into it, followed by Lovel in passive silence. 
 
 " The air's free eneugh," said the old man ; " the monks took care 
 o' that, for they werena a lang-breathed generation, I reckon— they 
 hae contrived queer tirlie-wirlie holes, that gang out to the open 
 air, and keep the stair as caller as a kail-blade." ' 
 
 Lovel accordingly found the staircase well aired, and, though 
 narrow, it was neither ruinous nor long, but speedily admitted them 
 into a narrow gallery contrived to run within the side wall of the 
 chancel, from which it received air and light through apertures 
 ingeniously hidden amid the florid ornaments of the Gothic archi- 
 tecture." 
 
 " This secret passage ance gaed round great part o' the biggin," 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. i8l 
 
 siiid the beggar, " and through the wa' o' the place I've heard Monk- 
 barns ca' the Refractory," [meaning probably Refectory], and so awa 
 to the Prior's ain house — It's like he could use it to listen what the 
 monks were saying at meal-time, and then he might come ben here 
 and see that they were busy skreighing awa wi' the psalms doun 
 below there ; — and then, when he saw a' was richt and ticht, he 
 micht step awa and fetch in a bonnie lass at the cove yonder, for 
 they were queer hands the monks, unless mony lees is made on 
 them. But our folk were at great pains lang syne to big up the 
 passage in some parts, an pu', it down in others, for fear o' some 
 uncanny body getting into it, and finding their way down to the 
 cove — it wad hae been a fashious job that — by my certie, some o' 
 our necks wad hae been ewking." 
 
 They now came to a place where the gallery was enlarged into a 
 small circle, sufficient to contain a stone seat. A niche, constructed 
 ■exactly before it, projected forward into the chancel, and as its sides 
 were latticed, as it were, with perforated stone-work, it commanded 
 a full view of the chancel in every direction, and was probably con- 
 structed, as Edie intimated, to be a convenient watch-tower, from 
 which tjhe superior priest, himself unseen, might watch the beha- 
 viour of his monks, and ascertain, by personal inspection, their 
 punctual attendance upon those rites of devotion which his rank 
 exempted him from sharing with them. As this niche made one of a 
 regular series which stretched along the wall of the chancel, and in no 
 respect differed from the rest when seen from below, the secret sta- 
 tion, screened as it was by the stone figure of St. Michael and the 
 dragon, and the open tracery around the niche, was completely hid 
 from observation. The private passage, confined to its pristine 
 breadth, had originally continued beyond this seat ; but the jealous 
 precautions of the vagabonds who frequented the cave of St. Ruth 
 had caused them to build it carefully up with hewn stones from the 
 ruin. 
 
 " We shall be better here,'' said Edie, seating himself on the stone 
 bench, and stretching the lappet of his blue gown upon the spot, when 
 he motioned Lovel to sit down beside him—" we shall be better here 
 than doun below — the air's free and mild, and the savour of the 
 wallflowers, and siccan shrubs as grow on thae ruined wa's, is far 
 mair refreshing than the damp smell doun below yonner. They 
 smell sweetest by night-time thae flowers, and they'r maist aye seen 
 about ruined buildings — Now, Maister Lovel, can ony o' you scholars 
 gie a gude reason for that ? " 
 
 Lovel replied in the negative. 
 
 " I am thinking," resumed the beggar, " that theyll be like mony 
 folk's gude gifts, that often seem maist gracious in adversity— or 
 
i82 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 maybe it's a parable, to teach us no to slight them that are in the 
 darkness of sin and the decay of tribulation, since God sends 
 odours to refresh the mirkest hour, and flowers and pleasant bushes 
 to clothe the ruined buildings. And now I wad like a wise man to 
 tell me whether Heaven is maist pleased wi' the sicht we are look- 
 ing upon — thae pleasant and quiet lang strakes o' moonlight that 
 are lying sae still on the floor o' this auld kirk, and glancing through 
 the great pillars and stanchions o' the carved windows, and just 
 dancing like on the leaves o' the dark ivy as the breath o' wind 
 shakes it — I wonder whether this is mair pleasing to Heaven than 
 when it was lighted up wi' lamps, and candles nae doubt, and roughies 
 [links, or torches], and wi' the mirth and the frankincent that they 
 speak of in the Holy Scripture, and wi' organs assuredly, and men 
 and women singers, and sackbuts, and dulcimers, and a' instru- 
 ments o' music — I wonder if that was acceptable, or whether it is 
 of these grand parafle o' ceremonies that holy writ says ' It is an 
 abomination to me.' — I am thinking, Maister Lovel, if twa puir 
 contrite spirits like yours and mine fand grace to make our 
 petition " • 
 
 Here Lovel laid his hand eagerly on the mendicant's arm, say- 
 ing, " Hush ! I heard some one speak." 
 
 " I am dull o' hearing," answered Edie, in a whisper, " but we're 
 surely safe here — where was the sound ?" 
 
 Lovel pointed to the door of the chancel, which, highly orna- 
 mented, occupied the west end of the building, surmounted by the 
 carved window, which let in a flood of moonlight over it. 
 
 " They can be nane o' our folk," said Edie, in the same low and 
 cautious tone ; " there's but twa o' them kens o' the place, and 
 they're mony a mile off, if they are still bound on their weary pil- 
 grimage. I'll never think it's the officers here at this time o' night. 
 I am nae believer in auld wives' stories about ghaists, though this 
 is gey like a place for them — But mortal, or of the other world, 
 here they come — ^twa men and a light." 
 
 And in very truth, while the mendicant spoke, two human figures 
 darkened with their shadows the entrance of the chancel which had 
 before opened to the moon-lit meadow beyond, and the small lan- 
 tern which one of them displayed, glimmered pale in the clear and 
 strong beams of the moon, as the evening star does among the 
 lights of the departing day. The first and most obvious idea was, 
 that, despite the asseverations of Edie Ochiltree, the persons who 
 approached the ruins at an hour so uncommon must be the officers 
 of justice in quest of Lovel. But no part of their conduct con- 
 firmed the suspicion. A touch and a whisper from the old man 
 ■warned Lovel that his best course was to remain quiet, and watch 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 183 
 
 their motions from their present place of concealment. Should 
 anything appear to render retreat necessary, they had behind them 
 the private staircase and cavern, by means of which they could 
 escape into the wood long before any danger of close pursuit. 
 They kept themselves, therefore, as still as possible, and observed, 
 with eager and anxious curiosity, every accent and motion of these 
 nocturnal wanderers. 
 
 After conversing together some time in whispers, the two figures 
 advanced into the middle of the chancel ; and a voice, which Lovel at 
 once recognised, from its tone and dialect, to be thatof Dousterswivel, 
 pronounced in a louder but still a smothered tone, " Indeed, mine 
 goot sir, dere cannot be one finer hour nor season for dis great 
 purpose. You shall see, mine goot sir, dat it is all one bibble-babblo 
 dat Mr. Oldenbuck says, and dat he knows no more of what he 
 speaks than one little child. Mine soul ! he expects to get as rich 
 as one Jew for his poor dirty one hundred pounds, which I care no 
 more about, by mine honest wort, than I care for an hundred 
 stivers. But to you, my most munificent and reverend patron, I 
 will show all de secrets dat art can show — ay, de secret of de great 
 Pymander." 
 
 " That other ane," whispered Edie, " maun be according to a' 
 likelihood, Sir Arthur Wardour. I ken naebody but himsell wad 
 come here at this time at e'en wi' that German blackguard ; — Ane 
 wad think he's bewitched him — he gars him e'en trow that chalk is 
 cheese. — Let's see. what they can be doing." 
 
 This interruption, and the low tone in which' Sir Arthur spoke, 
 made Lovel lose aU Sir Arthur's answer to the adept, excepting the 
 last three emphatic words, "Very great expense ; " — to which Dous- 
 terswivel at once replied— "Expenses ! — to be sure — dere must be de 
 great expenses — ^you do not expect to reap before you do sow de seed 
 — de expense is de seed — de riches and de mine of goot metal, and 
 now de great big chests of plate, they are de crop — ^very goot crop too, 
 on mine wort. Now, Sir Arthur, you have sowed this night one little 
 seed often guineas like one pinch of snufif, or so big — ^d if you do 
 not reap de great harvest — dat is, de great harvest for de little pinch 
 of seed, for it must be proportions, you must know — then never call 
 one honest man Herman . Dousterswivel. Now you see, mine 
 patron — for I will not conceal mine secret from you at all — you see 
 this little plate of silver ; — you know de moon measureth de whole 
 zodiack in de space of twenty-eight day — every shild knows dat — ■ 
 Well, I take a silver, plate when she is in her fifteenth mansion, 
 which mansion is in de head of Libra, and I engrave upon one side 
 de worts, Sf)£libatscf)Emotf( Stijartatlian— dat is, de Emblems of de In- 
 telligence of de moon — and I make his picture like a flying serpent 
 
184 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 with a turkey-cock's head — vary well. — Then upon this side I make 
 de table of de moon, which is a square of nine, multiplied into 
 itself, with eighty-one numbers on every side, and diameter nine — 
 dere it is done very proper — Now I will make dis avail me at de 
 change of every quarter-moon dat I shall find by de same propor- 
 tions of expenses I lay out in de sufFumigations, as nine, to de pro- 
 duct of nine multiplied into itself — But I shall find no more to-night 
 as maybe two or dree times nine, because dere is a thwarting power 
 in de house of ascendency." 
 
 " But, Dousterswivel," said the simple Baronet, " does not this 
 look like magic? — I am a true though unworthy son of the Epis- 
 copal church, and I will have nothing to do with the foul fiend." 
 
 " Bah ! bah ! — not a bit magic in it at all — not a bit — It is all 
 founded on de planetary influence, and de sympathy and force of 
 numbers — I will show you much finer dan dis — I do not say dere is 
 not de spirit in it, because of de suffumigation ; but, if you are not 
 afraid, he shall not be invisible." 
 
 " I have no curiosity to see him at all," said the Baronet, whose 
 courage seemed, from a certain quaver in his accent, to have taken 
 a fit of the ague. 
 
 " Dat is great pity,'' said Dousterswivel ; " I should have liked to 
 show you de spirit dat guard dis treasure like one fierce watchdog — 
 but I know how to manage him ; — you would not care to see him ? " 
 
 " Not at all," answered the Baronet, in a tone of feigned indiffer- 
 ence ; " I think we have but little time." 
 
 " You shall pardon me, my patron ; it is not yet twelve, and 
 twelve precise is just our planetary hours ; and I could show you 
 de spirit vary well, in de meanwhile, just for pleasure. You see I 
 would draw a pentagon within a circle, which is no trouble at all, 
 and make my suffumigation within it, and dere we would be like 
 in one strong castle, and you would hold de sword while I did say de 
 needful worts — Den you should see de solid wall open like de gate 
 of ane city, and den — let me see — ay, you should see first one stag 
 pursued by three black greyhounds, and they should pull him down 
 as they do at de elector's great hunting-match — and den one ugly, 
 little, nasty black negro should appear and take de stag from them 
 — and paf — all should be gone — den you should hear horns winded 
 dat all de ruins should ring — mine wort, they should play fine hunt- 
 ing piece, as goot as him you call'd Fischer with his oboi — vary 
 well — den comes one herald, as we call Ernhold, winding his horn — 
 — and den come de great Peolphan, called the Mighty Hunter of 
 de North, mounted on hims black steed — But you would not care 
 to see all this ? "* 
 
 "Why, I am not afraid," answered the poor Baronet, — "if— 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. i8S 
 
 that is — does anything — any great mischiefs, happen on such 
 occasions ? " 
 
 " Bah ! — mischiefs ? no ! Sometimes if de circle be no quite 
 just, or de beholder be de frightened coward, and not hold de sword 
 firm and straight towards him, de Great Hunter will take his 
 advantage, and drag him exorcist out of de circle and throttle him. 
 Dat does happens." 
 
 " Well, then, Dousterswivel, with every confidence in my courage 
 and your skill, we will dispense with this apparition, and go on to 
 the business of the night." 
 
 " With all mine heart— it is just one thing to me — and now it is 
 de time — ^hold you de sword till I kindle de little what you call 
 chip." 
 
 Dousterswivel accordingly set fire to a little pile of chips, touched 
 and prepared with some bituminous substance to make them burn 
 fiercely ; and when the flame was at the highest, and lightened, 
 with its shortlived glare, all the ruins around, the German flung in 
 a handful of perfumes, which produced a strong and pungent 
 odour. The exorcist and his pupil both were so much affected as 
 to cough and sneeze heartily ; and, as the vapour floated around 
 the pillars of the building, and penetrated every crevice, it produced 
 the same effect on the beggar and Lovel. 
 
 "Was that an echo?" said the Baronet, astonished at the ster- 
 nutation which resounded from above ; " or" — drawing close to the 
 adept, " can it be the spirit you talked of, ridiculing our attempt 
 upon his hidden treasures ? " 
 
 " N — n — no," muttered the German, who began to partake of 
 his pupil's terrors, " I hope not." 
 
 Here a violent explosion of sneezing, which the mendicant was 
 imable to suppress, and which could not be considered by any 
 means as the dying fall of an echo, accompanied by a grunting 
 half-smothered cough, confounded the two treasure-seekers. " Lord 
 have mercy on us ! " said the Baronet. 
 
 "Alleguten Geistern, loben den Herrn /" ejaculated the terrified 
 adept. " I was begun to think," he continued, after a moment's 
 silence, "that this would be de bestermost done in de day-light — 
 we was bestermost to go away just now." 
 
 " You juggling villain ! " said the Baronet, in whom these ex- 
 pressions awakened a suspicion that overcame his terrors, con- 
 nected as it was with the sense of desperation arising from the ag- 
 prehension of impending ruin—" you juggling mountebank ! this 
 is some legerdemain trick of yours to get off from the performance 
 of your promise, as you have so often done before. But, before 
 Heaven ! I will this night know what I have trusted to when 
 
186 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 I suffered you to fool me on to my" ruin ! — Go on, then — come 
 fairy, come fiend, you shall show me that treasure, or confess 
 yourself a knave and an impostor, or, by the faith of a desperate 
 and ruined man, I'll send you where you shall see spirits 
 enough." 
 
 The treasure-finder, trembling between his terror for the super- 
 natural beings by whom he supposed himself to be surrounded, 
 and for his life, which seemed to be at the mercy of a desperate 
 man, could only bring out, " Mine patron, this is not the aller- 
 bestmost usage. Consider, mine honoured sir, that de spirits " 
 
 Here Edie, who began to enter into the humour of the scene, ut- 
 tered an extraordinary howl, being an exaltation and a prolongation 
 of the most deplorable whine in which he was accustomed to 
 solicit charity. Dousterswivel flung himself on his knees. " Dear 
 Sir Arthurs, let us go, or let me go 1 " 
 
 " No, you cheating scoundrel ! " said the knight, unsheathing the 
 sword which he had brought for the purposes of the exorcism, 
 " that shift shall not serve you — Monkbarns warned me long since 
 of your juggling pranks — I will see this treasure before you leave 
 this place, or I will have you confess yourself an impostor, of, by 
 Heaven, I'll run this sword through you, though all the spirits of 
 the dead should rise around us ! " 
 
 " For de lofe of Heaven be patient, mine honoured patron, and 
 you shall hafe all de treasure as I knows of — yes — you shall indeed 
 — but do not speak about de spirits — it makes dem angry." 
 
 Edie Ochiltree here prepared himself to throw in another groan, 
 but was restrained by Lovel, who began to take a more serious 
 interest, as he observed the earnest and almost desperate 
 demeanour of Sir Arthur. Dousterswivel, having at once before 
 his eyes the fear of the foul fiend, and the violence of Sir Arthur, 
 played his part of a conjuror extremely ill, hesitating to assume the 
 degree of confidence necessary to deceive the latter, lest it should 
 give offence to the invisible cause- of his alarm. However, after 
 rolling his eyes, muttering and sputtering German exorcisms, 
 with contortions of his face and person, rather flowing from the 
 impulse of terror than of meditated fraud, he at length pro- 
 ceeded to a corner of the building where a flat stone lay upon 
 the ground, bearing upon its surface the effigy of an armed warrior 
 in a recumbent posture carved in bas-relief. He muttered to Sir 
 Arthur, " Mine patrons — it is here — Got save us all ! " 
 
 Sir Arthur, who, after the first moment of his superstitious fear 
 was over, seemed to have bent up all his faculties to the pitch of 
 resolution necessary to carry on the adventure, lent the adept his 
 assistance to turn over the stone, which, by means of a lever 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 187 
 
 that the adept had provided, their joint force with difficulty 
 effected. No supernatural light burst forth from below to indicate 
 the subterranean treasury, nor was there any apparition of spirits, 
 earthly or infernal. But when Dousterswivel had, with great trepi- 
 dation, struck a few strokes with a mattock, and as hastily thrown 
 out a shovelful or two of earth (for they came provided with the 
 tools necessary for digging), something was heard to ring like the 
 sound of a falling piece of metal, and Dousterswivel, hastily catch- 
 ing up the substance which produced it, and which his shovel 
 had thrown out along with the earth, exclaimed, " On mine dear 
 wort, mine patrons, dis is all — it is indeed ; — I mean all we can do 
 to-night ;"— and he gazed round him with a cowering and fearful 
 glance, as if to see from what corner the avenger of his imposture 
 was to start forth. 
 
 " Let me see it," said Sir Arthur ; and then repeated, still more 
 sternly, " I will be satisfied — I will judge by mine own eyes." He 
 accordingly held the object to the light of the lantern. It was a 
 small case, or casket,^for Lovel could not at the distance exactly 
 discern its shape, which, from the Baronet's exclamation as he 
 opened it, he concluded was filled with coin. " Ay," said the 
 Baronet, " this is being indeed in good luck ! and if it omens pro- 
 portional success upon a larger venture, the venture shall be made. 
 That six hundred of (ioldieword's, added to the other incumbent 
 claims, must have been ruin indeed. If you think we can parry it 
 by repeating this experiment — suppose when the moon next 
 changes, — I will hazard the necessary advance, come by it how 
 I may." 
 
 " O mine good patrons, do not speak about all dat," said 
 Dousterswivel, " as just now, but help me to put de shtone to de 
 rights, and let us begone our own ways." And accordingly, so 
 soon as the stone was replaced, he hurried Sir Arthur, who was now 
 resigned once more to his guidance, away from a spot, where the 
 German's guilty conscience and superstitious fears represented 
 goblins as lurking behind each pillar with the purpose of punishing 
 his treachery. 
 
 " Saw onybody e'er the like o' that ! " said Edie, when they had 
 disappeared like shadows through the gate by which they had 
 entered — " Saw ony creature living e'er the like o' that ! — But what 
 can we do for that puir doited deevil of a knight baronet ? Od,he 
 showed muckle mair spunk, too, than I thought had been in him — 
 I thought he wad hae sent cauld iron through the vagabond — Sir 
 Arthur wasna half sae bauld at Bessie's-apron yon night — but then 
 his blood was up even now, and that makes an unco difference. I 
 hae seen mony a man wad hae felled another an anger him, that 
 
i88 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 wadna muckle hae liked a clink against Crummie's-horn yon time. 
 But what's to be done ? " 
 
 " I suppose," said Lovel, « his faith in this fellow is entirely 
 restored by this deception, which, unquestionably, he had arranged 
 beforehand." 
 
 "What ! the siller?— ay, ay— trust him for that— they that hide 
 ken best where to find — ^he wants to wile him out o' his last guinea, 
 and then escape to his ain country, the land-louper. I wad likeit 
 weel just to hae come in at the clipping-time and gien him a 
 lounder wi' my pike-staff; he wad hae taen it for a bennison frae 
 some o' the auld dead abbots— But it's best no to be rash — sticking 
 disna gang by strength, but by the guiding o' the gully. I'se be 
 upsides wi' him ae day." 
 
 " What if you should inform Mr. Oldbuck ? " said I-ovel. 
 
 " Ou, I dinna ken — Monkbarns and Sir Arthur are like, and yet 
 they're no like neither — Monkbarns has whiles influence wi' him, 
 and whiles Sir Arthur cares as little about him as about the like o' 
 me. Monkbarns is no that ower wise himsell in some things ; — he 
 wad believe a bodle to be an auld Roman coin, as he ca's it, or a 
 ditch to be a camp, upon ony leasing that idle folk made about it. 
 I hae garr'd him trow mony a queer tale mysell, gude forgie me. 
 But wi' a' that, he has unco little sympathy wi' ither folks ; and 
 he's snell and dure eneugh in casting up their nonsense to them, as 
 if he had nane o' his ain. He'll listen the hale day, an ye'll tell 
 him about tales o' Wallace, and Blind Harry, and Davie Lindsay ; 
 but ye maunna speak to him about ghaists or fairies, or spirits 
 walking the earth, or the like o' that ; — he had amaist flung auld 
 Caxon out o' the window (and he might just as weel hae flung awa 
 his best wig after him), for threeping he had seen a ghaist at the 
 humlock-knowe. Now, if he was takin it up in this way, he wad 
 set up the tother's birse, and maybe do mair ill nor gude — he's 
 done that twice or thrice about thae mine-warks — ye wad thought 
 Sir Arthur had a pleasure in gaun on wi' them the deeper, the mair 
 he was warn'd against it by Monkbarns." 
 
 " What say you, then," said Lovel, " to letting Miss Wardour 
 know the circumstances ? " 
 
 " Ou, puir thing, how could she stop her father doing his pleasure ? 
 — and, besides, what wad it help ? — There's a sough in the country 
 about that six hundred pounds, and there's a writer chield in Edin- 
 burgh has been driving the spur-rowels o' the law up to the head 
 into Sir Arthur's sides to gar him pay it, and if he canna, he maun 
 gang to jail or flee the country. He's like a desperate man, and 
 just catches at this chance as a' he has left, to escape utter perdi- 
 tion ; so what signifies plaguing the puir lassie about what canna 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. i8g 
 
 be helped ?— And besides, to say the truth, I wadna like to tell the 
 secret o' this place. It's unco convenient, ye see yoursell, to hae a 
 hiding-hole o' ane's ain ; and though I be out o' the line o' needing 
 ane e'en now, and trust in the power o' grace that I'll ne'er do ony- 
 thing to need ane again, yet naebody kens what temptation ane 
 may be gien ower to — and, to be brief, I downa bide the thought 
 of onybody kennin .about the place ; — they say, keep a thing seven 
 year, an' ye'U aye find a use for't — and maybe I may need the cove, 
 either for mysell, or for some ither body." 
 
 This argument, in which Edie Ochiltree, notwithstanding his 
 scraps of morality and of divinity, seemed to take, perhaps from old 
 habit, a personal interest, could not be handsomely controverted by 
 Lovel, who was at that moment reaping the benefit of the secret of 
 which the old man appeared to be so jealous. 
 
 This incident, however, was of great service to Lovel, as diverting 
 his mind from the unhappy occurrence of the evening, and con- 
 siderably rousing the energies which had been stupified by the first 
 view of his calamity. He reflected, that it by no means necessarily 
 followed that a dangerous wound must be a fatal one — that he had 
 been hurried from the spot even before the surgeon had expressed 
 any opinion of Captain M'Intyre's situation — and that he had duties 
 on earth to perform, even should the very worst be true, which, if 
 they could not restore his peace of mind or sense of innocence, 
 would furnish a motive for enduring existence, and at the same 
 time render it a course of active benevolence. Such were Lovel's 
 feelings, when the hour arrived when, according to Edie's calcula- 
 tion, who, by some train or process of his own in observing the 
 heavenly bodies, stood independent of the assistance of a watch or 
 timekeeper, it was fitting they should leave their hiding-place, and 
 betake themselves to the sea-shore, in order to meet Lieutenant 
 Taffril's boat according to appointment. 
 
 They retreated by the same passage which had admitted them to 
 the prior's secret seat of observation, and when they issued from 
 the grotto into the wood, the birds, which began to chirp, and even 
 to sing, announced that the dawn was advanced. This was con- 
 firmed lay the light and amber clouds that appeared over the sea, 
 as soon as their exit from the copse permitted them to view the 
 horizon. Morning, said to be friendly to the muses, has probably 
 ~ obtained this character from its effect upon the fancy and feelings 
 of mankind. Even to those who, like Lovel, have spent a sleepless 
 and anxious night, the breeze of the dawn brings strength and 
 Quickening both of mind and body. It was, therefore, with renewed 
 health and vigour that Lovel, guided by the trusty mendicant, 
 brushed away the dew as he traversed the downs which divided the 
 
igo THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Den of St. Ruth, as the woods surrounding the ruins were popularly- 
 called, from the sea-shore. 
 
 The first level beam of the sun, as his brilliant disk began to 
 emerge from the ocean, shot full upon the little gun-brig which was 
 lying-to in the offing — close to the shore the boat was already 
 waiting, Taffril himself, with his naval cloak wrapped about him, 
 seated in the stern. He jumped ashore when he saw the mendi- 
 cant and Lovel approach, and, shaking the latter heartily by the 
 hand, begged him not to be cast down. " M'Intyre's wound," he 
 said, "was doubtful, but far from desperate." His attention had 
 got Lovel's baggage privately sent on board the brig ; " and," he 
 said, " he trusted that, if Lovel chose to stay with the vessel, the 
 penalty of a short cruize would be the only disagreeable consequence 
 of his rencontre. As for himself, his time and motions were a good 
 deal at his own disposal," he said, " excepting the necessary obli- 
 gation of remaining on his station." 
 
 " We will talk of our farther motions," said Lovel, " as we go on 
 board." 
 
 Then turning to Edie, he endeavoured to put money into his 
 hand. " I think," said Edie, as he tendered it back again, " the 
 hale folk here have either gane daft, or they hae made a vow to 
 ruin my trade, as they say ower muckle water drowns the miller. 
 I hae had mair gowd offered me within this twa or three weeks than 
 I ever saw in my life afore. Keep the siller, lad, ye'll hae need o't, 
 I'se warrant ye, and I hae nane — my claes is nae great things, 
 and I get a blue gown every year, and as mony siller groats as the 
 king, God bless him, is years auld — you and I serve the same 
 master, ye ken, Captain Taffril — there's rigging provided for — and 
 my meat and drink I get for the asking in my rounds, or, at an 
 orra time, I can gang a day without it, for I make it a rule never to 
 pay for nane ; — So that a' the siller I need is just to buy tobacco 
 and sneeshin, and maybe a dram at a time in a cauld day, though 
 I am nae dram-drinker to be a gaberlunzie ; — sae take back your 
 gowd, and just gie me a lily-white shilling." 
 
 Upon these whims, which he imagined intimately connected with 
 the honour of his vagabond profession, Edie was flint and adamant, 
 not to be moved by rhetoric or entreaty ; and therefore Lovel was 
 under the necessity of again pocketing his intended bounty, arid 
 taking a friendly leave of the mendicant by shaking him by the 
 hand, and assuring him of his cordial gratitude for the very 
 important services which he had rendered him, recommending at 
 the same time, secrecy as to what they had that night witnessed. — 
 " Ye needna doubt that," said Ochiltree ; " I never tell'd tales out 
 o' yon cove in my life, though mony a queer thing I hae seen in't." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. igl 
 
 The boat now put off. The old man renlained looking after it as 
 it made rapidly towards the brig under the impulse of six stout 
 rowers, and Lovel beheld him again wave his blue bonnet as 
 a token of farewell ere he turned from his fixed posture and began 
 to move slowly along the sands as if resuming his customary 
 perambulations. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 Wiser Raymond, as in his closet pent, 
 Laughs at such danger and adventurement, 
 When half his lands are spent in golden smoke, 
 And now his second hopeful glasse is broke ; 
 But yet, if haply his third furnace hold, 
 Devoteth all his pots and pans to gold.* 
 
 About a week after the adventures commemorated in our last 
 chapter, Mr. Oldbuck, descending to his breakfast-parlour, found 
 that his womankind were not upon duty, his toast not made, and 
 the silver jug, which wont to receive his libations of mum, not duly 
 aired for its reception. 
 
 " This confounded hot-brained boy ! " he said to himself; " now 
 that he begins to get out of danger I can tolerate this life no 
 longer — All goes to sixes and sevens — an universal saturnalia seems 
 to be proclaimed in my peaceful and orderly family — I ask for my 
 sister — no answer — I call, I shout, — I invoke my inmates by more 
 names than the Romans gave to their deities — ^At length, Jenny, 
 whose shrill voice I have heard this half hour lilting in the Tar- 
 tarean regions of the kitchen, condescends to hear me and reply, 
 but without coming up stairs, so the conversation must be continued 
 at the top of my lungs." — Here he again began to hollow aloud, 
 "Jenny, where's Miss Oldbuck ? " 
 
 " Miss Grizzy's in the captain's room." 
 
 " Umph ! I thought so — and where's my niece? " 
 
 " Miss Mary's making the captain's tea." 
 
 " Umph ! I supposed as much again — and where's Caxon ? " 
 
 " Awa to the town about the captain's fowling-gun and his setting- 
 dog." 
 
 "And who the devil's to dress my periwig, you silly jade ?— when 
 you knew that Miss Wardour and Sir Arthur were coming here 
 early after breakfast, how could you let Caxon go on such a Tom- 
 fool's errand ? " 
 
 " Me ! what could I hinder him ? — ^your honour wadna hae us 
 contradict the captain e'en now, and him maybe deeing ? " 
 
X9S THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " Dying ! " said the alanned Antiquary, — " eh ! — what ? has he 
 been worse ?" 
 
 " Na, he's no nae waur that I ken of." * 
 
 " Then he must be better— and what good is a dog and a gun to 
 do here, but the one to destroy all my furniture,, steal from my 
 larder, and perhaps worry the cat, and the other to shoot some- 
 body through the head— he has had gunning and pistolling enough 
 to serve him one while, I should think." 
 
 Here Miss Oldbuck entered the parlour, at the door of which 
 Oldbuck was carrying on this conversation, he bellowing downward 
 to Jenny, and she again screaming upward in reply. 
 
 " Dear brother," said the old lady, "ye'll cry yoursell as hoarse 
 as a corbie— is that the way to skreigh when there's a sick person 
 in the house ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, the sick person's like to have all the house to 
 himself. I have gone without my breakfast, and am like to go 
 without my wig ; and I must not, I suppose, presume to say I feel 
 either hunger or cold, for fear of disturbing the sick gentleman who 
 lies six rooms off, and who feels himself well enough to send for his 
 dog and g^n, though he knows I detest such implements ever since 
 our elder brother, poor Williewald, marched out of the world on a 
 pair of damp feet caught in the Kittlefitting-moss — But that signi- 
 fies nothing — I suppose I shall be expected by and by to lend a hand 
 to carry Squire Hector out upon his litter, while he indulges his 
 sportsman-like propensities by shooting my pigeons, or my turkeys 
 — I think any of the ferm natures are safe from him for one while." 
 
 Miss M'Intyre now entered, and began to her usual morning's 
 task of arranging her uncle's breakfast, with the alertness of one 
 who is too late in setting about a task, and is anxious to make up 
 for lost time. But this did not avail her. " Take care, you silly 
 womankind — that mum's too near the fire — the bottle will burst — 
 and I suppose you intend to reduce the toast to a cinder as a burnt 
 offering for Juno, or what do you call her— the female dog there, 
 with some such Pantheon kind of a name, that your wise brother 
 has, in his first moments of mature reflection, ordered up as a 
 fitting inmate of my house (I thank him), and meet company to aid 
 the rest of the womankind of my household in their daily con- 
 versation and intercourse with him." 
 
 " Dear unckj don't be angry about the poor spaniel ; she's been 
 tied up at my brother's lodgings at Fairport, and she's broke her 
 chain twice, and come running down here to him ; and you would 
 not have us beat the faithful beast away from the door ? — it moans 
 as if it had some sense of poor Hector's misfortune, and will hardly 
 stir from the door of his room." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 193 
 
 " Why," said his uncle, " they said Caxon had gone to Fairport 
 after his dog and gun." 
 
 " O dear sir, no," answered Miss M'Intyre, "it was to fetch some 
 dressings that were wanted, and Hector only wished him to bring 
 out his gun, as he was going to Fairport at any rate." 
 
 " Well, then, it is not altogether so foolish a business, considering 
 what a mess of womankind have been about it^— Dressings, quotha ? 
 — and who is to dress my wig ? — But I suppose Jenny will under- 
 take" — continued the old bachelor, looking at himself in the glass 
 — " to make it somewhat decent. And now let us set to breakfast 
 — with what appetite we may — ^Well may I say to Hector, as Sir 
 Isaac Newton did to his dog Diamond, when the animal (I detest 
 dogs) flung down the taper among calculations which had occupied 
 the philosopher for twenty years, and consumed the whole mass of 
 materials — Diamond, Diamond, thou little knowest the mischief 
 thou hast done ! " 
 
 "I assure you, sir,'' replied his niece, "my brother is quite 
 sensible of the rashness of his own behaviour, and allows that 
 Mr. Lovel behaved very handsomely." 
 
 " And much good that will do, when he has frightened the lad 
 out of the country ! — I teU thee,'Mary, Hector's understanding, and 
 far more that of feminity, is inadequate to comprehend the extent 
 of the loss which he has occasioned to the present age and to 
 posterity — aureum quidem opus — a poem on such a subject — with 
 notes illustrative of all that is clear, and all that is dark, and all 
 that is neither dark nor clear, but hovers in dusky twilight in the 
 region of Caledonian antiquities. I would have made the Celtic 
 panegyrists look about them. Fingal, as they conceitedly term 
 Fin-Mac-Coul, should have disappeared before my search, rolling 
 himself in his cloud like the spirit of Loda. Such an opportunity 
 can hardly again occur to an ancient and grey-haired man — and 
 to see it lost by the madcap spleen of a hot-headed boy ! But 
 I submit — Heaven's will be done ! " 
 
 Thus continued the Antiquary to maunder, as his sister expressed 
 it, during the whole time of breakfast, while, despite of sugar and 
 honey, and all the comforts of a Scottish morning tea-table, his 
 Teflections rendered the meal bitter to all who heard them. But 
 they knew the nature of the man. "Monkbarns's bark," said 
 Miss Griselda Oldbuck, in confidential intercourse with Miss 
 Rebecca Blattergowl, " is muckle waur than his bite." 
 
 In fact, Mr. Oldbuck had suffered in mind extremely while his 
 nephew was in actual danger, and now felt himself at liberty, upon 
 his returning health, to indulge in complaints respecting the trouble 
 he had been put to, and the interruption of his antiquarian labours. 
 
194 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Listened to, therefore, in respectful silence, by his niece and sister, 
 he unloaded his discontent in such grumblings as we have re- 
 hearsed, venting many a sarcasm against womankind, soldiers, 
 dogs and guns, all which implements of noise, discord, and tumult, 
 as he called them, he professed to hold in utter abomination. 
 
 This expectoration of spleen was suddenly interrupted by the 
 noise of a carriage without, when, shaking off all suUenness at the 
 sound, Oldbuck ran nimbly up stairs and down stairs, for both 
 operations were necessary ere he could receive Miss Wardour and 
 her father at the door of his mansion. 
 
 A cordial greeting passed on both sides. And Sir Arthur, 
 referring to his previous inquiries by letter and message, requested 
 to be particularly informed of Captain M'Intyre's health. 
 
 " Better than he deserves," was the answer ; " better than he 
 deserves, for disturbing us with his vixen brawls, and breaking 
 God's peace and the king's." 
 
 " The young gentleman," Sir Arthur said, " had been imprudent ; 
 but he understood they were indebted to him for the detection of a 
 suspicious character in the young man Lovel." 
 
 "No more suspicious than his own," answered the Antiquary, 
 eager in his favourite's defence ; " the young gentleman was a 
 little foolish and head-strong, and refused to answer Hector's im- 
 pertinent interrogatories — that is all. Lovel, Sir Arthur, knows 
 how to choose his confidants better — Ay, Miss Wardour, you may 
 look at me — but it is very true ; — it was in my bosom that he 
 deposited the secret cause of his residence at Fairport ; and no 
 stone should have been left unturned on my part to assist him in 
 the pursuit to which he had dedicated himself." 
 
 On hearing this magnanimous declaration on the part of the Old 
 Antiquary, Miss Wardour changed colour more than once, and 
 could hardly trust her own ears. For of all confidants to be selected 
 as the depositary of love affairs, — and such she naturally supposed 
 must have been the subject of communication, next to Edie Ochil- 
 tree — Oldbuck seemed the most uncouth and extraordinary ; nor 
 could she sufficiently admire or fret at the extraordinary combina- 
 tion of circumstances which thus threw a secret of such a delicate 
 nature into the possession of persons so unfitted to be intrusted 
 with it. She had next to fear the mode of Oldbuck's entering upon 
 the affair with her father, for such, she doubted not, was his inten- 
 tion. She well knew, that the honest gentleman, however vehe- 
 ment in his prejudices, had no great sympathy with those of others, 
 and she had to fear a most unpleasant explosion upon an eclair- 
 cissement taking place between them. It was therefore with great 
 anxiety that she heard her father request a private interview, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 19S 
 
 observed Oldbuck readily arise and show the way to his library. 
 She remained behind, attempting to converse with the ladies of 
 Monkbarns, but with the distracted feelings of Macbeth, when 
 compelled to disguise his evil conscience by listening and replying 
 to the observations of the attendant thanes upon^ the storm of the 
 preceding night, while his whole soul is upon the stretch to listen 
 for the alarm of murder, which he knows must be instantly raised 
 by those who have entered the sleeping apartment of Duncan. But 
 the conversation of the two virtuosi turned on a subject very dif- 
 ferent from that which Miss Wardour apprehended. 
 
 " Mr. Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, when they had, after a due ex- 
 change of ceremonies, fairly seated themselves in the sanctum 
 sanctoriiin of the Antiquary, — " you, who know so much of my 
 family matters, may probably be surprised at the question I am 
 about to put to you." 
 
 "Why, Sir Arthur, if it relates to money, I am very sorry, 
 but" r 
 
 " It does relate to money matters, Mr. Oldbudk." 
 
 " Really then, Sir Arthur," continued the Antiquary, " in the 
 present state of the money-market-^and stocks being so low " 
 
 " You mistake my meaning, Mr. Oldbuck," said the Baronet ; 
 " I wished to ask your advice about laying out a large sum of 
 ' money to advantage." 
 
 " The devil ! " exclaimed the Antiquary ; and, sensible that his 
 involuntary ejaculation of wonder was not over and above civil, he 
 proceeded to qualify it by expressing his joy that Sir Arthur should 
 have a sum of money to lay out when the commodity was so 
 scarce. " And as for the mode of employing it," said he, pausing, 
 " the funds are low at present, as I said before, and there are good 
 bargains of land to be had. But had you not better begin by 
 clearing off encumbrances. Sir Arthur ? — There is the sum in the 
 personal bond — and the three notes of hand," continued he, taking 
 out oi the right-hand drawer of his cabinet ^ certain red memo- 
 randum-book, of which Sir Arthur, from the experience of former 
 frequent appeals to it, abhorred the very sight — " with the interest 
 thereon, amounting altogether to — ^let me see" — • — 
 
 " To about a thousand pounds," said Sir Arthur, hastily ; " you 
 told me the amount the other day." 
 
 " But there's another term's interest due since that, Sir Arthur, 
 and it amounts (errors excepted) to eleven hundred and thirteen 
 pounds, seven shiUings, five pennies, and three-fourths of a penny 
 sterling — but look over the summation yourself.'' 
 
 " I dare say you are quite right, my dear sir," said the Baronet, 
 putting away the book with his hand, as one rejests the old- 
 
 N 2 
 
IS6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 fashioned civility that presses food upon you after you have eaten 
 till you nauseate — "perfectly right, I dare to say ; and in the course 
 of three days or less you shall have the full value— that is, if you 
 choose to accept it in bullion." 
 
 " Bullion ! I suppose you mean lead. What the deuce ! have we 
 hit on the vein then at last i*— But what could I do with a thousand 
 pounds' worth, and upwards, of lead? — The former abbots of 
 Trotcosey might have roofed their church and monastery with it 
 indeed — but for me" 
 
 " By bullion," said the Baronet, " I mean the precious metals, — 
 gold and silver." 
 
 " Ay ! indeed ? — And from what Eldorado is this treasure to be 
 imported ? " 
 
 " Not far from hence," said Sir Arthur, significantly ; " and 
 now I think of it, you shall see the whole process, on one small 
 condition." 
 
 " And what is that ? " craved the Antiquary. 
 
 " Why, it will be necessary for you to give me your friendly as- 
 sistance, by advancing one hundred pounds or thereabouts." 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck, who had already been grasping in idea the sum, 
 principal and interest, of a debt which he had long regarded as 
 ' rellnigh desperate, was so much astounded at the tables being so 
 unexpectedly turned upon him, that he could only re-echo, in an 
 accent of woe and surprise, the Words, " Advance one hundred 
 pounds ! " 
 
 " Yes, my good sir," continued Sir Arthur ; " but upon the best 
 possible security of being repaid in the course of two or three 
 days." 
 
 There was a pause — either Oldbuck's nether-jaw had not reco- 
 vered its position, so as to enable him to utter a negative, or his 
 curiosity kept him silent. 
 
 " I \<^ould not propose to you," continued Sir Arthur, "to oblige 
 me thus far, if I did not possess actual proofs of the reality of 
 those expectations which I now hold out to you. And I assure 
 you, Mr. Oldbuck, that in entering fully upon this topic, it is my 
 purpose to show my confidence in you, and my sense of your kind- 
 ness on many former occasions." 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck professed his sense of obligation, but carefully 
 avoided committing himself by any promise of farther assistance. 
 
 " Mr. Dousterswivel," said Sir Arthur, "having discovered" 
 
 Here Oldbuck broke in, his eyes sparkling with indignation. 
 " Sir Arthur, I have so often warned you of the knavery of that 
 rascally quack, that I really wonder you should quote him to me." 
 
 " But listen— listen," interrupted Sir Arthur in his turn, "it 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 197 
 
 will do you no harm. In short, Dousterswivel persuaded me to 
 witness an experimfent which he had made in the ruins of St. Ruth 
 — and what do you think we found ? " 
 
 " Another spring of water, I suppose, of which the rogue had 
 beforehand taken care to ascertain the situation and source." 
 
 " No, indeed — a casket of gold and silver coins — here they 
 are." 
 
 With that, Sir Arthur drew from his pocket a large ram's horn, 
 with a copper cover, containing a considerable quantity of coins, 
 chiefly silver, but with a few gold pieces intermixed. The Anti- 
 quary's eyes glistened as he eagerly spread them out on the table. 
 
 " Upon my word — Scotch, English, and foreign coins, of the 
 fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and some of them rari—et 
 rariores—etiam, rarissimi! Here is the bonnetpiece of James V., 
 the unicorn of James II., — ay, and the gold testoon of Queen Mary, 
 with her head and the Dauphin's — And these were really found in 
 the ruins of St. Ruth ? " 
 
 " Most assuredly — my own eyes witnessed it." 
 
 " Well," replied Oldbuck, " but you must tell me the when — the 
 where — the how." 
 
 " The when," answered Sir Arthur, " was at midnight the last 
 full moon — the where, as I have told you, in the ruins of St. Ruth's 
 priory — the how, was by a nocturnal experiment of Dousterswivel, 
 accompanied only by myself." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Oldbuck ; " and what means of discovery did 
 you employ?" 
 
 " Only a simple suffumigation," said the Baronet " accompanied 
 by availing ourselves of the suitable planetary hour." 
 
 " Simple suffumigation? simple nonsensification — ^planetary hour? 
 planetary fiddlestick ! — Sapiens dominabitur astris — My dear Sir 
 Arthur, that fellow has made a gull of you above ground and under 
 ground, and he would have made a gull of you in the air too, if 
 he had been by when you was craned up the devil's turnpike yonder 
 at Halkethead — to be sure, the transformation would have been 
 then peculiarly apropos." i 
 
 " Well, Mr. Oldbuck, I am obliged to you for your indifferent 
 opinion of my discernment ; but I think you will give me credit 
 for having seen what I say I saw." 
 
 " Certainly, Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary, " to this extent at 
 least, that I know Sir Arthur Wardour will not say he saw any- 
 thing but what he thought he saw." 
 
 " Well then," replied the Baronet, " as there is a heaven above 
 us, Mr. Oldbuck, I saw, with my own eyes, these coins dug out of 
 the chancel of St. Ruth at midnight — And as to Dousterswivel, 
 
19S THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 although the discovery be owing to his science, yet, to tell the 
 truth, I do not think he would have had firmness of mind to have 
 gone through with it if I had not been beside him." 
 
 " Ay ! indeed ? " said Oldbuck, in the tone used when one wishes 
 to hear the end of a story before making any comment. 
 
 " Yes, truly," continued Sir Arthur, " I assure you I was upon my 
 guard — we did hear some very unconrmon sounds, that is certain, 
 proceeding from among the ruins." 
 
 " Oh, you did ? " said Oldbuck ; " an accomplice hid among 
 them, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Not a jot," said the Baronet ; — " the sounds, though of a 
 hideous and preternatural character, rather resembled those of a 
 njan who sneezes violently than any other — one deep groan I cer- 
 tainly heard besides — and Dousterswivel assures me that he beheld 
 the spirit Peolphan, the Great Hunter of the North, (look for him 
 in your Nicholaus Remigius, or Petrus Thyracus, Mr. Oldbuck,) " 
 who mimicked the motion of snuff-taking and its effects. 
 
 " These indications, however singular as proceeding from such 
 a personage, seem to have been apropos to the matter," said the 
 Antiquary ; " for you see the case, which includes these coins, has 
 all the appearance of being an old-fashioned Scottish snuff-mull. 
 But you persevered, in spite of the terrors of this sneezing 
 goblin?" 
 
 " Why, I think it probable that a man of inferior sense or con- 
 sequence might have given way ; but I was jealous of an impos- 
 ture, conscious of the duty I owed to my family in maintaining 
 my courage under every contingency, and therefore I compelled 
 Dousterswivel, by actual'and violent threats, to proceed with what 
 he was about to do ; and, sir, the proof of his skill and honesty 
 is this parcel of gold and silver pieces, out of which I beg you 
 to select such coins or medals as will best suit your collection." 
 
 "Why, Sir Arthur, since you are so good, and on condition you 
 will permit me to mark the value according to Pinkerton's catalogue 
 and appreciation, against your account in my red book, I will with 
 pleasure select" , i 
 
 " Nay, said Sir Arthur Wardour, " I do not mean you should con- 
 sider them as anything but a gift of friendship, and least of all 
 would I stand by the valuation of your friend Pinkerton, who has 
 impugned the ancient and trust-worthy authorities upon which, as 
 upon venerable and moss-grown pillars, the credit of Scottish an- 
 tiquities reposed." 
 
 " Ay, ay," rejoined Oldbuck, "you mean, I suppose, Mair and 
 Boece, the Jachin and Boaz, not of history, but of falsification and 
 forgery. And notwithstanding of all you have told me, I look 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. I99 
 
 on your friend Douster&wivel to be as apocryphal as any of 
 them." 
 
 " Why then, Mr. Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, " not to awaken old 
 disputes^ I suppose you think, that because I believe in the ancient 
 history of my country, I have neither eyes nor ears to ascertain 
 what modern events pass before me ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, Sir Arthur," rejoined the Antiquary ; " but I con- 
 sider all the affectation of terror which this worthy gentleman, 
 your coadjutor, chose to play off, as being merely one part of his 
 trick or mystery. And with respect to the gold or silver coins, 
 they are so mixed and mingled in country and date, that I cannot 
 suppose they could be any genuine hoard, and rather suppose them, 
 to be, like the purses upon the table of Hudibras's lawyer — 
 
 ■ Money placed for show, 
 
 Like nest-eggs, to make clients lay, 
 And for his false opinions pay. — 
 
 It is the trick of all professions, my dear Sir Arthur. Pray, may I 
 ask you how much this discovery cost you ? " 
 
 " About ten guineas." 
 
 " And you have gained what is equivalent to twenty in actual 
 bullion, and what maybe perhaps worth as much more to such 
 fools as ourselves, who are willing to pay for curiosity. This was 
 allowing you a tempting profit on the first hazard, I must needs 
 admit. And what is the next venture he proposes ?■" 
 
 " An hundred and fifty pounds ; I have given him one-third part 
 of the money, and I thought it likely you might assist me with the 
 balance." 
 
 " I should think that this cannot be meant as a parting blow — it 
 is nqt of weight and importance sufficient ; he will probably let us 
 win this hand also, as sharpers manage a raw gamester. — Sir 
 Arthur, I hope you believe I would serve you ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Oldbuck ; I think my confidence in you on these 
 occasions leaves no room to doubt that." 
 
 " Well, then, allow me to speak to Dousterswivel. If the money 
 can be advanced usefully and advantageously for you, why, for old 
 neighbourhood's sake, you shall not want it ; but if, as I think, I 
 can recover the treasure for you without making such an advance, 
 you wiU, I presume, have no objection ! " 
 
 " Unquestionably, I can have none whatsoever." 
 
 "Then where is Dousterswivel?" continued the Antiquary. 
 
 " To tell you the truth, he is in my carriage below ; but knowing 
 your prejudice against him " 
 
 " I thank Heaven, I am not prejudiced against any man, Sir 
 
20O THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Arthur : it is systems, not individuals, that incur my reprobation." 
 He rang the bell. " Jenny, Sir Arthur and I offer our compliments 
 to Mr. Dousterswivel, the gentleman in Sir Arthur's carriage, and 
 beg to have the pleasure of speaking with him here." 
 
 Jenny departed and delivered her message. It had been by no 
 means a part of the project of Dousterswivel to let Mr. Oldbuck 
 into his supposed mystery. He had relied upon Sir Arthur's ob- 
 taining the necessary accommodation without any discussion as to 
 the nature of the application, and only waited below for the purpose 
 of possessing himself of the deposit as soon as possible, for he fore- 
 saw that his career was drawing to a close. But when summoned 
 to the presence of Sir Arthur and Mr. Oldbuck, he resolved gal- 
 lantly to put confidence in his powers of impudence, of which, the 
 reader may have observed, his natural share was very liberal. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 -And this Doctor, 
 
 Your sooty smoky-bearded compeer, he 
 Will close you so much gold in a bolt's head, 
 And, on a turn, convey in the stead another 
 With sublimed mercury, that shall burst i' the heat. 
 And all fly out in Junto. 
 
 The Alchemist. 
 
 " How do you do, goot Mr. Oldenbuck ? and I do hope your 
 young gentleman. Captain M'Intyre, is getting better again ? — ^Ach [ 
 it is a bat business when young gentlemens will put lead balls into 
 each other's body." 
 
 " Lead adventures of all kinds are very precarious, Mr. Dous- 
 terswivel; but I am happy to learn," continued the Antiquary, 
 " from my friend Sir Arthur, that you have taken up a better trade, 
 and become a discoverer of gold." 
 
 " Ach, Mr. Oldenbuck, mine goot and honoured patron ^ould 
 not have told a word about dat little matter ; for, though I have all 
 reliance — yes, indeed, on goot Mr. Oldenbuck's prudence and dis- 
 cretion, and his great friendship for Sir Arthur Wardour — ^yet, my 
 heavens ! it is an great ponderous secret." 
 
 " More ponderous than any of the metal we shall make by it, I 
 fear," answered Oldbuck. 
 
 " Dat is just as you shall have de faith and de patience for de 
 grand experiment — If you join wid Sir Arthur, as he is put one 
 hundred and fifty — see, here is one fifty in your dirty Fairport 
 bank-ndte — ^you put one other hundred and fifty in de dirty notes, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 201 
 
 and you shall have de pure gold and silver, I cannot tell how 
 much." 
 
 " Nor any one for you, I believe," said the Antiquary. " But hark 
 you, Mr. Dousterswivel : Suppose, without troubling this same 
 sneezing spirit with any farther fumigations, we should go in a body, 
 and having fair day-light and our good consciences to befriend us, 
 using no other conjuring implements than good substantial pick- 
 axes and shovels, fairly trench the area of the chancel in the ruins 
 of St. Ruth, from one end to the other, and so ascertain the exist- 
 ence of this supposed treasure, without putting ourselves to any 
 farther expense : the ruins belong to Sir Arthur himself, so there 
 can be no objection. Do you think we shall succeed in this way of 
 managing the matter ? " 
 
 "Bah!— you will not find one copper thimble — But Sir Arthur 
 will do his pleasure — I have showed him how it is possible — very 
 possible — to have de great sum of money for his occasions — I have 
 showed him de real experiment — If he likes not to believe, goot 
 Mr. Oldenbuck, it is nothing to Herman Dousterswivel — ^he only 
 loses de money and de gold and de silvers — dat is all." 
 
 Sir Arthur Wardour cast an intimidated glance at Oldbuck, who, 
 especially when present, held, notwithstanding their frequent differ- 
 ence of opinion, no ordinary influence over his sentiments. In 
 truth, the Baronet felt, what he would not willingly have acknow- 
 ledged, that his genius stood rebuked before that of the Antiquary. 
 He respected him as a shrewd, penetrating, sarcastic character, 
 feared his satire, and had some confidence in the general soundness 
 of his opinions. He therefore looked at him as if desiring his leave 
 before indulging his credulity. Dousterswivel saw he was in danger 
 of losing his dupe, unless he could make some favourable impres- 
 sion on the adviser. 
 
 " I know, my goot Mr. Oldenbuck, it is one vanity to speak to 
 you about de spirit and de goblin. But look at this curious horn ; 
 I know you know de curiosity of all de countries, and how de great 
 Oldenburgh horn, as they keep still in the Museum at Copenhagen, 
 was given to de Duke of Oldenburgh by one female spirit of de 
 wood. Now I could not put one trick on you if I were willing, you 
 who know all de curiosity so well, and dere it is de horn full of 
 coins ; — if it had been a box or case, I would have said nothing." 
 
 " Being a horn," said Oldbuck, " does indeed strengthen your 
 argument. It was an implement of nature's fashioning, and there- 
 fore much used among rude nations, although, it may be, the meta- 
 phorical horn is more frequent in proportion to the progress of 
 civilization. And this present horn," he continued, rubbing it upon 
 his sleeve, " is a curious and venerable relic, and no doubt was in- 
 
20? THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 tended to prove a cornucopia, or horn of plenty, to some one or 
 other ; but whether to the adept or his patron, may be justly 
 doubted." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Oldenbuck, I find you still hard of belief,— but let me 
 assure you, de monksh understood de magisterium." 
 
 " Let us leave talking of the magisterium, Mr. Dousterswivel, 
 and think a little about the magistrate. Are you aware that this 
 occupation of yours is against the law of Scotland, and that both 
 Sir Arthur and myself are in the commission of the peace ? " 
 
 " Mine heaven ! and what is dat to de purpose when I am doing 
 you all de goot I can ? " 
 
 "Why, you must know, that when the legislature abolished the 
 cruel laws against witchcraft, they had no hope of destroying the 
 superstitious feehngs of humanity on which such chimeras had been 
 founded ; and to prevent those feelings from being tampered with 
 by artful and designing persons, it is enacted by the ninth of George 
 the Second, chap. 5, that whosoever shall pretend, by his alleged 
 skill in any occult or crafty science, to discover such goods as are 
 lost, stolen, or concealed, he shall suffer punishment by pillory and 
 imprisonment, as a common cheat and impostor." 
 
 " And is dat de laws ? " asked Dousterswivel, with some agi- 
 tation. 
 
 " Thyself shall see the act," replied the Antiquary. 
 
 " Den, gentlemens, 1 shall take my leave of you, dat is all ; I do 
 not like to stand on your what you call pillory — it is very bad way to 
 take de air, I think ; and I do not like your prisons no more, where 
 one cannot take de air at all." 
 
 " If such be your taste, Mr. Dousterswivel," said the Antiquary, 
 " I advise you to stay where you are, for I cannot let you go, unless 
 it be in the society of a constable ; and, moreover, I expect you 
 will attend us just now to the ruins of St. Ruth, and point out the 
 place where you propose to find this treasure." 
 
 " Mine heaven, Mr. Oldenbuck ! what usage is this to your old 
 friend, when I tell you so plain as I can speak, dat if you go now, 
 you will get not so much treasure as one poor shabby sixpence ?" 
 
 " I will try the experiment, however, and you shall be dealt with 
 according to its success, — always with Sir Arthur's permission." 
 
 Sir Arthur, during this investigation, had looked extremely 
 embarrassed, and, to use a vulgar but expressive phrase, chop-fallen. 
 Oldbuck's obstinate disbelief led him strongly to suspect the impos- 
 ture of Dousterswivel, and the adept's mode of keeping his ground 
 was less resolute than he had expected. Yet he did not entirely 
 give him up. 
 
 " Mr. Oldbuck," said the Baronet, " you do Mr. Dousterswivel 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 203 
 
 less than justice. He lias undertaken to make this discovery by the 
 use of his art, and by applying characters descriptive of the Intelli- 
 gences presiding over the planetary hour in which the experiment 
 is to be made ; and you require him to proceed, under pain of pun- 
 ishment, without allowing him the use of any of the preliminaries 
 which he considers as the means of procuring success." 
 
 " I did not say that exactly — I only required him to be present 
 when we make the search, and not to leave us during the interval. 
 — I fear he may have some intelligence with the Intelligences you 
 talk of, and that whatever may be now hidden at St. Euth may 
 disappear before we get there." 
 
 " Well, gentlemens," said Dousterswivel sullenly, " I will make no 
 objections to go along with you ; but I tell you beforehand, you 
 shall not find so much of any thing as shall be worth your going 
 twenty yard from your own gate." 
 
 " We will put that to a fair trial," said the Antiquary ; and the 
 Baronet's equipage being ordered, Miss Wardour received an inti- 
 mation from her father, that she was to remain at Monkbams until 
 his return from an airing. The young lady was somewhat at a loss 
 to reconcile this direction with the communication which she sup- 
 posed must have passed between Sir Arthur and the Antiquary ; 
 but she was compelled, for the present, to remain in a taost un- 
 pleasant state of suspense. 
 
 The journey of the treasure-seekers was melancholy enough. 
 Dousterswivel maintained a sulky silence, brooding at once over 
 disappointed expectation and the risk of punishment ; Sir Arthur, 
 whose golden dreams had been gradually fading away, surveyed, in 
 gloomy prospect, the impending difficulties of his situation ; and 
 Oldbuck, who perceived that his having so far interfered in his 
 neighbour's affairs gave the Baronet a right to expect some actual 
 and efficient assistance, sadly pondered to what extent it would be 
 necessary to draw open the strings of his purse. Thus each being 
 wrapped in his own unpleasant ruminations, there was hardly a word 
 said on either side, until they reached the Four Horse-shoes, by 
 which sign the little inn was distinguished; They procured at this 
 place the necessary assistance and implements for digging, and 
 while they were busy about these preparations, were suddenly 
 joined by the old beggar, Edie Ochiltree. 
 
 " The Lord bless your honour," began the Blue-Gown, with the 
 genuine mendicant whine, " and long life to you ! — weel pleased 
 am I to hear that young Captain M'Intyre is like to be on his legs 
 again sune — Think on your poor bedesman the day." 
 
 "Aha, old true-penny !" replied the Antiquary, " Why, thou hast 
 never come to Monkbams since thy perils by rock and flood — ^here's 
 
204 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 something for thee to buy snuff," — and, fumbUng for his purse, he 
 pulled out at the same time the horn which enclosed the coins. 
 
 " Ay, and there's something to pit it in," said the mendicant, eye- 
 ing the ram's horn — "that looms an auld acquaintance o' mine. I 
 could take my aith to that sneeshing-muU amang a thousand — I 
 carried it for mony a year, till I niffered it for this tin ane wi' auld 
 George Glen, the dammer and sinker, when he took a fancy till't 
 doun at Glen-Withershins yonder." 
 
 "Ay! indeed.'" said Oldbuck; — "so you exchanged it with a 
 miner ? but I presume you never saw it so well filled before ? " — and 
 opening it, he showed the coins. 
 
 " Troth, ye may swear that, Monkbarns — when it was mine, it 
 ne'er had abune the like o' saxpenny worth o' black rappee in't at 
 ance ; but I reckon you'll be gaun to mak an antic o't as ye hae 
 dune wi' mony an orra thing besides. Od, I wish onybody wad mak 
 an antic o' me ; but mony ane will find worth in rousted bits o' 
 capper and horn and aim, that care unco little about an auld carle 
 o' their ain country and kind." 
 
 ." You may now guess," said Oldbuck, turning to Sir Arthur, " to 
 whose good offices you were indebted the other night. To trace 
 this cornucopia of yours to a miner, is bringing it pretty near a 
 friend of ours — I hope we shall be as successful this morning, 
 without paying for it." 
 
 "And whare is your honours gaun the day," said the mendicant, 
 " wi' a' your picks and shules ? — Od, this will be some o' your 
 tricks, Monkbarns : ye'll be for whirling some o' the auld monks 
 down by yonder out o' their graves afore they hear the last call — 
 but, wi' your leave, I'se follow ye at ony rate, and see what ye 
 mak o't." 
 
 The party soon arrived at the ruins of the priory, and, having 
 gained the chancel, stood still to consider what course they were to 
 pursue next. The Antiquary, meantime, addressed the adept. 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Dousterswivel, what is your advice in this matter ? — 
 Shall we have most likelihood of success if we dig from east to 
 west, or from west to east ? — Or will you assist us with your tri- 
 angular vial of May-dew, or with your divining-rod of witches- 
 hazel? or will you have the goodness to supply us with a few 
 thumping blustering terms of art, which, if they fail in our present 
 service, may at least be useful to those who have not the happiness 
 to be bachelors, to still their brawling children withal ? " 
 
 " Mr. Oldenbuck," said Dousterswivel, doggedly, " I have told 
 you already you will make no goot work at all, and I will find 
 some way of mine own to thank you for your civilities to me — yes, 
 indeed." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 203 
 
 " If your honours are thinking of tirling the floor," said old Edie, 
 " and wad but take a puir body's advice, I would begin below that 
 muckle stane that has the man there streekit out upon his back in 
 the midst o't." 
 
 ' ' I have some reason for thinking favourably of that plan myself," 
 said the Baronet. 
 
 "And I have nothing to say against it," said Oldbuck : " it was 
 not unusual to hide treasure in the tombs of the deceased — many 
 instances might be quoted of that from Bartholinus and others." 
 
 The tomb-stone, the same beneath which the coins had been 
 found by Sir Arthur and the German, was once more forced aside, 
 and the earth gave easy way to the spade. 
 
 " It's travell'd earth that," said Edie, "it howks sae eithly ; — I 
 ken it weel, for ance I wrought a simmer wi' auld Will Winnet, the 
 bedral, and howkit mair graves than ane in my day ; but I left him 
 in winter, for it was unco cald wark ; and then it cam a green Yule, 
 and the folk died thick and fast — for ye ken a green Yule maks a 
 fat kirkyard — and I never dowed to bide a hard turn o' wark in my 
 life — sae aff I gaed, and left Will to delve his last dwellings by him- 
 sell for Edie." 
 
 The diggers were now so far advanced in their labours as to 
 discover that the sides of the grave which they were clearing out 
 had been originally secured by four walls of freestone, forming a 
 parallelogram, for the reception, probably, of the coffin. 
 
 " It is worth while proceeding in our labours," said the Antiquary 
 to Sir Arthur, " were it but for curiosity's sake. I wonder on whose 
 sepulchre they have bestowed such uncommon pains." 
 
 " The arms on the shield," said Sir Arthur, and sighed as he 
 spoke it, " are the same with those on Misticot's tower, supposed to 
 have been built by Malcolm the usurper. No man knew where he 
 was buried, and there is an old prophecy in our family, that bodes 
 us no good when his grave shall be discovered." 
 
 " I wot," said the beggar, " I have often heard that when I was a 
 bairn, 
 
 ' If Malcolm the Misticot's grave were fun'. 
 The lands of Knockwinnock are lost and won.'" 
 
 Oldbuck, with his spectacles on his nose, had already knelt down 
 on the monument, and was tracing, partly with his eye, partly with 
 his finger, the mouldered devices upon the effigy of the deceased 
 warrior. " It is the Knockwinnock arms, sure enough," he ex- 
 claimed, " quarterly with the coat of Wardour." 
 
 " Richard, called the Red-handed Wardour, married Sybil 
 Knockwinnock, the heiress of the Saxon family, and by that alii- 
 
ao6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 ance," said Sir Arthur, " brought the castle and estate into the name 
 of Wardour, in the year of God 1 150." 
 
 "Very true, Sir Arthur ; and here is the baton-sinister, the mark 
 of illegitimacy, extended diagonally through both coats upon the 
 shield. Where can our eyes have been, that they did not see this 
 curious monument before ? " 
 
 " Na, whare was the through-stane, that it didna come before our 
 een till e'enow ? " said Ochiltree ; " for I hae lien'd this auld kirk; 
 man and bairn, for saxty lang years, and I ne'er noticed it afore ; 
 and it's nae sic mote neither, but what ane might see it in their 
 parritch." 
 
 All were now induced to tax their memory as to the former state 
 of the ruins in that corner of the chancel, and all agreed in recol- 
 lecting a considerable pile of rubbish which must have been re- 
 moved and spread abroad in order to make the tomb visible. Sir 
 Arthur might, indeed, have remembered seeing the monument on 
 the former occasion, but his mind was too much agitated to attend 
 to the circumstance as a novelty. 
 
 While the assistants were engaged in these recollections and dis- 
 cussions, the workmen proceeded with their labour. They had 
 already dug to the depth of nearly five feet, and as the flinging out 
 the soil became more and more difficult, they began at length to 
 tire of the job. 
 
 " We're down to the tiU now," said one of them, " and the ne'er 
 a coffin or onything else is here — some cunninger chiel's been afore 
 us, I reckon ; " and the labourer scrambled out of the grave. 
 
 " Hout, lad," said Edie, getting down in his room, " let me try my 
 hand for an auld bedral ; — ye're gude seekers but ill finders." 
 
 So soon as he got into the grave, he struck his pike-staff forcibly 
 down — it encountered resistance in its descent, and the beggar ex- 
 claimed, like a Scotch schoolboy when he finds anything, " Nae 
 halvers and quarters — hale o' mine ain and nane o' my neighbour's." 
 Everybody, from the dejected Baronet to the sullen adept, now 
 caught the spirit of curiosity, crowded round the grave, and would 
 have jumped into it, could its space have contained them. The 
 labourers, who had begun to flag in their monotonous and appa- 
 rently hopeless task, now resumed their tools, and plied them with 
 all the ardour of expectation. Their shovels soon grated upon a 
 hard wooden surface, which, as the earth was cleared away, assumed 
 the distinct form of a chest, but greatly smaller than that of a coffin. 
 Now all hands were at work to heave it out of the grave, and all 
 voices, as it was raised, proclaimed its weight and augured its value. 
 They were not mistaken. 
 When the chest or box was placed on the surface, and the lid 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 207 
 
 forced up by a pick-axe, there was displayed first a coarse canvas 
 cover, then a quantity of oakum, and ' beneath that a number of 
 ingots of silver. A general exclamation hailed a discovery so sur- 
 prising and unexpected. The Baronet threw his hands and eyes up 
 to heaven, with the silent rapture of one who is delivered from 
 inexpressible distress of mind. Oldbuck, almost unable to dredit 
 his eyes, lifted one piece of silver after another. There was neither 
 inscription nor stamp upon them, excepting one, which seemed to 
 be Spanish. He could have no doubt of the purity and great value 
 of the treasure before him. Still, however, removing piece by piece, 
 he examined row by row, expecting to discover that the lower layers 
 were of inferior value ; but he could perceive no difference in this 
 respect, and found himself compelled to admit, that Sir Arthur had 
 possessed himself of bullion to the value perhaps of a thousand 
 pounds sterling. Sir Arthur now promised the assistants a hand- 
 some recompense for their trouble, and began to busy himself about 
 the mode of conveying this rich windfall to the Castle of Knock- 
 winnock, when the adept, recovering from his surprise, which had 
 equalled that exhibited by any other individual of the party, 
 twitched his sleeve, and having offered his humble congratulations, 
 turned next to Oldbuck with an air of triumph. 
 
 " I did tell you, my goot friend Mr. Oldenbuck, dat I was to seek 
 opportunity to thank you for your civility ; now do you not think I 
 have found out vary goot way to return thank ? " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Dousterswivel, do you pretend to have had any hand 
 in our good success .?— you forget you refused us all aid of your 
 science, man. And you are here without your weapons that should 
 ' have fought the battle which you pretend to have gained in our 
 behalf. You have used neither charm, lamen, sigil, tahsman, spell, 
 crystal, pentacle, magic mirror, nor geomantic figure. Where be 
 your periapts, and your abracadabras, man ? your May-fern, your 
 vervain, 
 
 ' Your toad, your crow, your dragon, and your panther, 
 Your sun, your moon, your firmament, your adrop. 
 Your Lato, Azoch, Zernich, Chibrit, Heautarit, 
 With all your broths, your menstrues, your materials, 
 Would burst a man to name ? ' 
 
 Ah ! rare Ben Jonson ! long peace to thy ashes for a scourge of 
 the quacks of thy day !— who expected to see them revive in our 
 own?" 
 
 The answer of the adept to the Antiquary's tirade, we must defer 
 to our next chapter. 
 
2o8 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Clause. You now shall know the king o' the beggars' treasure : — 
 Yes — ere to-morrow you shall find your harbour 
 Here, — fail me not, for if I live I'll fit you. 
 
 The Beggar's Bush. 
 
 The German, determined, it would seem, to assert the vantage- 
 ground on which the discovery had placed him, replied with great 
 pomp and stateliness to the attack of the Antiquary : 
 
 " Maister Oldenbuck, all dis may be very witty and comedy, but 
 I have nothing to say — nothing at all — to people dat will not believe 
 deir own eyesights. It is vary true dat I ave not any of de things 
 of de art, and it makes de more wonder what I has done dis day — 
 But I would ask of you, mine honoured and goot and generous 
 patron, to put your hand into your right-hand waistcoat pocket, and 
 show me what you shall find dere." 
 
 Sir Arthur obeyed his direction, and pulled out the small plate of 
 silver which he had used under the adept's auspices upon the 
 former occasion. " It is very true," said Sir Arthur, looking gravely 
 at the Antiquary ; " this is the graduated and calculated sigil by 
 which Mr. Dousterswivel and I regulated our first discovery." 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! my dear friend," said Oldbuck, " you are too 
 wise to believe in the influence of a trumpery crown-piece, beat out 
 thin, and a parcel of scratches upon it. I tell thee. Sir Arthur, that 
 if Dousterswivel had known where to get this treasure himself, you 
 would not have been lord of the least share of it." 
 
 " In troth, please your honour," said Edie, who put in his word 
 on all occasions, " I think, since Mr. Dunkerswivel has had sae 
 muckl? merit in discovering a' the gear, the least ye can do is to gie 
 him that o't that's left behind for his labour ; for doubtless he 
 that kend where to find sae muckle will hae nae difficulty to find 
 main" 
 
 Dousterswivel's brow grew very dark at this proposal of leaving 
 him to his " ain purchase," as Ochiltree expressed it ; but the 
 beggar, drawing him aside, whispered a word or two in his ear, to 
 which he seemed to give serious attention. 
 
 Meanwhile Sir Arthur, his heart warm with his good fortune, 
 said aloud, " Never mind our friend Monkbarns, Mr. Dousterswivel, 
 but come to the Castle to-morrow, and I'll convince you that I am 
 not ungrateful for the hints you have given me about this matter, 
 and the fifty Fairport dirty notes, as you call them, are heartily at 
 your service. Come, my lads, get the cover of this precious chest 
 fastened up again." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 209 
 
 But the cover had in the confusion fallen aside among the 
 rubbish, or the loose earth which had been removed from the grave 
 — in short, it was not to be seen." 
 
 " Never mind, my good lads, tie the tarpaulin over it, and get it 
 away to the carriage. Monkbarns, will you walk ? — ^I must go back 
 your way to take up Miss Wardour." 
 
 " And, I hope, to take up your dinner also. Sir Arthur, and drink 
 a glass of wine for joy of our happy adventure. Besides, you should 
 write about the business to the Exchequer, in case of any interfer- 
 ence on the part of the Crown. As you are lord of the manor, it 
 will be easy to get a deed of gift, should they make any claim. — 
 We must talk about it, though." 
 
 " And I particularly recommend silence to all who are present," 
 said Sir Arthur, looking round. All bowed, and professed them- 
 selves dumb. 
 
 "Why, as to that," said Monkbarns, "recommending secrecy 
 where a dozen of people are acquainted with the circumstance to be 
 concealed, is only putting the truth in masquerade, for the story wiU 
 be circulated under twenty different shapes. But never mind, we 
 will state the true one to the Barons, and that is aU that is 
 necessary." 
 
 " I incline to send off an express to-night," said the Baronet. 
 
 " I can recommend your honour to a sure hand," said Ochiltree ; 
 " little Davie Mailsetter, and the butcher's reisting powny." 
 
 "We will talk over the matter as we go to Monkbarns," said Sir 
 Arthur. " My lads " (to the workpeople), " come with me to the 
 Four Horse-shoes, that I may take down all your names. Douster- 
 swivel, I won't ask you to go down to Monkbarns, as the laird 
 and you differ so widely in opinion ; but do not fail to come to 
 see me to-morrow.'' 
 
 Dousterswivel growled out an answer, in which the words, 
 " duty," — ■" mine honoured patron," — and " wait upon Sir Arthurs," 
 — were alone distinguishable ; and after the Baronet and his friend 
 had left the ruins, followed by the servants and workmen, who, in 
 hope of reward and whisky, joyfully attended their leader, the adept 
 remained in a brown study by the side of the open grave. 
 
 " Who was it as could have thought this ? " he ejaculated, uncon- 
 sciously. " Mine heiligkeit ! I have heard of such things, and often 
 spoken of such things — but, sapperment ! I never thought to see 
 them ! And if I had gone but two or dree feet deeper down in the 
 earth — mein himmel ! it had been all mine own — so much more as 
 I have been muddling about to get from this fool's man." 
 
 Here the German ceased his soliloquy, for, raising his eyes, he 
 encountered those of Edie Ochiltree, who had not followed the rest 
 
210 THE ANTIQUARV. 
 
 of the company, but, resting as usual on his pike-staff, had planted 
 himself on the other side of the grave. The features of the old 
 man, naturally shrewd and expressive almost to an appearance of 
 knavery, seemed in this instance so keenly knowing, that even the 
 assurance of Dousterswivel, though a professed adventurer, sunk 
 beneath their glances. But he saw the necessity of an eclaircisse- 
 ment, and, rallying his spirits, instantly began to sound the mendi- 
 cant on the occurrences of the day. " Goot Maister Edies 
 Ochiltrees " 
 
 "Edie Ochiltree, nae maister — your puir bedesman and the 
 king's," answered the Blue-Gown. 
 
 " Awell den, goot Edie, what do you think of all dis ? " 
 
 " I was just thinking it was very kind (for I dare na say very 
 simple) o' your honour to gie thae twa rich gentles, wha hae lands 
 and lairdships, and siller without end, this grand pose o' silver and 
 treasure (three times tried in the fire, as the Scripture expresses it), 
 that might hae made yoursell and ony twa or three honest bodies 
 beside, as happy and content as the day was lang." 
 
 " Indeed, Edie, mine honest friends, dat is very true ; only I did 
 not know, dat is, I was not sure where to find de gelt myself" 
 
 " What ! was it not by your honour's advice and counsel 
 that Monkbarns and the Knight of Knockwinnock came here 
 then?" 
 
 " Aha— yes — but it was by another circumstance ; I did not know 
 dat dey would have found de treasure, mine friend ; though I did 
 guess, by such a tintamarre, and cough, and sneeze, and groan, 
 among de spirit one other night here, dat there might be treasure 
 and bullion hei'eabout. Ach, mein himmel ! the spirit will hone 
 and groan over his gelt, as if he were a Dutch burgomaster counting 
 his dollars after a great dinner at the Stadthaus." 
 
 " And do you really believe the like o' that, Mr. Dusterdeevel ? — 
 a skeelfu' man like you — hout fie ! " 
 
 " Mein friend," answered the adept, forced by circumstances to 
 speak something nearer the truth than he generally used to do, " I 
 believed it no more than you and no man at all, till I did hear 
 them hone and moan and groan myself on de oder night, and till 
 I did this day see de cause, which was an great chest all full of de 
 pure silver from Mexico — and what would you ave me think 
 den?" 
 
 "And what wad ye gie to ony ane," said Edie, "that wad help ye 
 to sic another kistfu' o' silver ? " 
 
 " Give ? — mein himmel ! — one great big quarter of it." 
 
 " Now, if the secret were mine," said the mendicant, " I wad stand 
 out for a half; for you see, though I am but a puir ragged body, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 21I 
 
 and couldna carry silver or gowd to sell for fear o' being taen up, 
 yet I could find mony folk would pass it awa for me at unco muckle 
 easier profit than ye're thinking on." 
 
 " Ach, himmel ! — Mein goot friend, what was it I said ? — I did 
 mean to say you should have de tree quarter for your half, and de 
 one quarter to be my fair half." 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Dusterdeevrl, we will divide equally what we find, 
 like brother and brother. Now look at this board that I just flung 
 into the dark aisle out o' the way, while Monkbarns was glowering 
 ov^er a' the silver yonder. He's a sharp chiel, Monkbarns. I was 
 glad to keep the like o' this out o' his sight. Ye'll maybe can read 
 the character better than me — I am nae that book-learned, at least 
 I'm no that muckle in practice." 
 
 With this modest declaration of ignorance, Ochiltree brought 
 forth from behind a pillar the cover of the box or chest of treasure, 
 which, when forced from its hinges, had been carelessly flung aside 
 during the ardour of curiosity to ascertain the contents which it 
 concealed, and had been afterwards, as it seems, secreted by the 
 mendicant. There was a word and a number upon the plank, and 
 the beggar made them more distinct by spitting upon his ragged 
 blue handkerchief, and rubbing off the clay by which the inscription 
 was obscured. It was in the ordinary black letter. 
 
 " Can ye mak ought o't ? " said Edie to the adept. 
 
 " S," said the philosopher, like a child getting his lesson in the 
 primer ; " S, T, A, R, C, H, — Starch / — dat is what de women- 
 washers put into de neckerchers, and de shirt collar." 
 
 " Starch ! " echoed Ochiltree ; " na, na, Mr. Dusterdeevil, ye are 
 mair of a conjuror than a clerk — it's search, man, search — See, 
 there's the Ye clear and distinct." 
 
 " Aha ! — I see it now — it is search — number one. Mein himmel ! 
 then there must be a number two, mein goot friend ; for search is 
 what you call to seek and dig, and this is but number one ! — Mine 
 wort, there is one great big prize in de wheel for us, goot Maister 
 Ochiltree." 
 
 " Aweel, it may be sae — but we canna howk for't enow — we hae 
 nae shules, for they hae taen them a' awa — and it's like some o' 
 them will be sent back to fling the earth into the hole, and mak a' 
 things trig again. But an ye'll sit down wi' me a while in the wood, 
 I'se satisfy your honour that ye hae just lighted on the only man in 
 the country that could hae tauld about Malcolm Misticot and his 
 hidden treasure — But first we'U rub out the letters on this board, 
 for fear it tell tales." 
 
 And, by the assistance of his knife, the beggar erased and de- 
 faced the characters so as to make them quite unintelligible, find 
 
 S 
 
212 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 then daubed the board with clay so as to obhteratc all traces of the 
 erasure. 
 
 Dousterswivel stared at him in ambiguous silence. There was 
 an intelligence and alacrity about all the old man's movements 
 which indicated a person that could not be easily overreached, and 
 yet (for even rogues acknowledge in some degree the spirit of prece- 
 dence) our adept felt the disgrace of playing a secondary part, and 
 dividing winnings with so mean an associate. His appetite for gain 
 however, was sufficiently sharp to overpower his offended pride, 
 and though far more an impostor than a dupe, he was not without 
 a certain degree of personal faith even in the gross superstitions by 
 means of which he imposed upon others. Still, being accus- 
 tomed to act as a leader on such occasions, he felt humiUated at 
 feeling himself in the situation of a vulture marshalled to his prey 
 by a carrion-crow. " Let me, however, hear his story to an end," 
 thought Dousterswivel, "and it will be hard if I do not make 
 mine account in it better as Maister Edie Ochiltrees makes pro- 
 poses." 
 
 The adept, thus transformed into a pupil from a teacher of the 
 mystic art, followed Ochiltree in passive acquiescence to the Prior's 
 Oak — a spot, as the reader may remember, at a short distance from 
 the ruins, where the German sat down, and in silence waited the 
 old man's communication. 
 
 " Maister Dustandsnivel," said the narrator, " it's an unco while 
 since I heard this business treated anent ; — for the lairds of Knock- 
 winnock, neither Sir Arthur, nor his father, nor his grandfather, and 
 I mind a wee bit about them a', liked to hear it spoken about — nor 
 they dinna like it yet— But nae matter ; ye may be sure it was 
 clattered about in the kitchen, like onything else in a great house, 
 though it were forbidden in the ha' — and sae I hae heard the cir- 
 cumstance rehearsed by auld servants in the family ; and in thir 
 jresent days, when things o' that auld-warld sort arena keepit in 
 mind round winter fire-sides as they used to be, I question if there's 
 onybody in the country can tell the tale but mysell — aye out-taken 
 the laird though — for there's a parchment book about it, as I have 
 heard, in the charter-room at Knockwinnock Castle." 
 
 " Well, all dat is vary well — but get you on with your stories, 
 mine goot friend," said Dousterswivel. 
 
 " Aweel, ye see," continued the mendicant, " this was a job in 
 the auld times o' rugging and riving through the hale country, when 
 it was ilka ane for himsell, and God for us a', when nae man wanted 
 property if he had strength to take it, or had it langer than he had 
 power to keep it. It was just he ower her, and she ower him, 
 whichever could win upmost, a' through the east country here, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 213 
 
 nae doubt through the rest o' Scotland in the self and same 
 manner. 
 
 " Sae, in these days Sir Richard Wardour came into the land, 
 and that was the first o' the name ever was in this country — There's 
 been mony of them sin' syne ; and the maist, like him they ca'd 
 Hell-in-Harness, and the rest o' them, are sleeping down in yon 
 ruins. They were a proud dour set o' men, but unco brave, and 
 aye stood up for the weel o' the country, God sain them a' — there's 
 no muckle popery in that wish. They ca'd them the Norman 
 Wardours, though they cam frae the south to this country. — So this 
 Sir Richard, that they ca'd Red-hand, drew up wi' the auld Knock- 
 winnock o' that day, for then they were Knockwinnocks of that Ilk, 
 and wad fain marry his only daughter, that was to have the castle 
 and the land. Laith, laith was the lass — (Sybil Knockwinnock 
 they ca'd her that tauld me the tale) — laith, laith was she to gae 
 into the match, for she had fa'en a wee ower thick wi' a cousin 0' 
 her ain that her father had some ill-will to ; and sae it was, that 
 •after she had been married to Sir Richard jimp four months — for 
 marry him she maun, it's like — ye'll no hinder her gieing them a 
 present o' a bonny knave bairn. Then there was siccan a ca'-thro', 
 as the like was never seen ; and she's be burnt", and he's be slain, 
 was the best words o' their mouths. But it was a' sowdered up 
 again some gait, and the bairn was sent awa, and bred up near the 
 Highlands, and grew up to be a fine wanle fallow, like mony ane 
 that comes o' the wrang side o' the blanket ; and Sir Richard wi' 
 the Red-hand, he had a fair offspring o' his ain, and a' was lound 
 and quiet till his head was laid in the ground. But then down 
 came Malcolm Misticot — (Sir Arthur says it should be Misbegot, 
 but they aye ca'd him Misticot that spoke o't lang syne) — down 
 came this Malcolm, the love-begot, frae Glen-isla, wi' a string o' 
 lang-legged Highlanders at his heels, that's aye ready for onybody's 
 mischief, and he threeps the castle and lands are his ain as his 
 mother's eldest son, and turns a' the Wardours out to the hill. 
 There was a sort o' fighting and blude-spilling about it, for the 
 gentles took different sides ; but Malcolm had the uppermost for a 
 lang time, and keepit the Castle of Knockwinnock, and strengthened 
 it, and built that muckle tower that they ca' Misticot's tower to this 
 day." 
 
 " Mine goot friend, old Mr. Edie Ochiltree," interrupted the 
 German, " this is all as one like the long histories of a baron of 
 sixteen quarters in mine countries ; but I would as rather hear of 
 ■de silver and gold." 
 
 " Why, ye see," continued the mendicant, " this Malcolm was 
 weel helped by an uncle, a brother o' his father's, that was Prior o' 
 
214 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 St. Ruth here ; and muckle treasure they gathered between them, 
 to secure the succession of their house in the lands of Knockwin- 
 nock— Folk said that the monks in thae days had the art of multiply- 
 ing metals — at ony rate, they were very rich. At last it came to this, 
 that the young Wardour, that was Red-hand's son, challenged Misti- 
 cot to fight with him in the lists as they ca'd them — that's no lists or 
 tailor's runds and selvedges o' claith, but a palin'-thing they set up 
 for them to fight in like game-cocks. Aweel, Misticot was beaten, 
 and at his brother's mercy — but he wadna touch his life, for the 
 blood of Knockwinnock that was in baith their veins : so Malcolm 
 was compelled to turn a monk, and he died soon after in the priory, 
 of pure despite and vexation. Naebody ever ken'd whare his uncle 
 the prior earded him, or what he did wi' his gowd and silver, for 
 he stood on the right o' halie kirk, and wad gie nae account to ony- 
 body. But the prophecy gat abroad in the country, that whenever 
 Misticot's grave was fund out, the estate of Knockwinnock should 
 be lost and won." 
 
 " Ach ! mine goot old friend, Maister Edie, and dat is not so 
 very unlikely, if Sir Arthurs will quarrel wit his goot friends to please 
 Mr. Oldenbuck — And so you do tink dat dis golds and silvers be- 
 longed to goot Mr. Malcolm Mishdigoat ? " 
 
 " Troth do I, Mr. Dousterdeevil." 
 
 "And you do believe dat dere is more of dat sorts be- 
 hind?" 
 
 "By my certie do I — How can it be otherwise?. — Search — 
 No. I. — that is as muckle as to say, search and ye'll find number twa. 
 Besides, yon kist is only silver, and I aye heard that Misticot's pose 
 had muckle yellow gowd in't." 
 
 "Den, mine goot friends," said the adept, jumping up hastily, 
 "why do we not set about our little job directly ? " 
 
 " For twa gude reasons," answered the beggar, who quietly 
 kept his sitting posture ; " first, because, as I said before, we have 
 naething to dig wi', for they hae taen awa the picks and shules ; 
 and, secondly, because there will be a wheen idle gowks coming to 
 glower at the hole as lang as it is daylight, and maybe the laird 
 may send somebody to fill it up — and ony way we wad be catched. 
 But if you will meet me on this place at twal o'clock wi' a dark 
 lantern, I'll hae tools ready, and we'll gang quietly about our job 
 our twa sells, and naebody the wiser for't." , 
 
 " Be — be — but, mine goot friend," said D ousters wivel, from whose 
 recollection his former nocturnal adventure was not to be altogether 
 erased, even by the splendid hopes which Edie's narrative held 
 forth, " it is not so goot or so safe to be about goot Maister Mishdi- 
 goat's grave at that time of night — you have forgot how I told you 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 313 
 
 de spirits did hone and mone dere. I do assure you, dere is dis- 
 turbance dere." 
 
 " If ye're afraid of ghaists," answered the mendicant, coolly, " I'll 
 do the job mysell, and bring your share o' the siller to ony place ye 
 like to appoint." 
 
 " No — no — mine excellent old Mr. Edie, — too much trouble for 
 you — I will not have dat — I will come myself — and it will be bet- 
 termost ; for, mine old friend, it was I, Herman Dousterswivel, dis- 
 covered Maister Mishdigoat's grave when I was looking for a place 
 as to put away some little trumpery coins, just to play one little 
 trick on my dear friend Sir Arthur, for a little sport and pleasures. 
 Yes, I did take some what you call rubbish, and did discover 
 Maister Mishdigoat's own monumentsh — It is like dat he meant I 
 should be his heirs — so it would not be civility in me not to come 
 mineself for mine inheritance." 
 
 " At twal o'clock, then," said the mendicant, " we meet under 
 this tree — I'll watch for a while, and see that naebody meddles wi' 
 the grave — it's only saying the lairds forbade it — then get my bit 
 supper frae Ringan the poinder up by, and leave to sleep in his 
 barn ; and I'll slip out at night, and ne'er be mist." 
 
 " Do so, mine goot Maister Edie, and I will meet you here on this 
 very place, though all de spirits shoiild moan and sneeze deir very 
 brains out." 
 
 So saying, he shook hands with the old man, and, with this 
 mutual pledge of fidelity to their appointment, they separated for 
 the present. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 See thou shake the bags 
 
 Of hoarding abbots ; angels imprisoned 
 
 Set thou at liberty 
 
 Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back, 
 
 If gold and silver beckon to come on 
 
 King John. 
 
 The night set in stormy, with wind and occasional showers of 
 rain. " Eh, sirs," said the old mendicant, as he took his place on 
 the sheltered side of the large oak-tree to wait for his associate — 
 " Eh, sirs, but human nature's a wilful and wilyard thing ! — Is it not 
 an unco lucre o' gain wad bring this Dousterdivel out in a blast o' 
 wind like this, at twal o'clock at night, to thir wild gousty wa's ? — 
 and amna I a bigger fule than himsell to bide here waiting for 
 him?" 
 
ai6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Having made these sage reflections, he wrapped himself close in 
 his cloak, and fixed his eye on the moon as she waded amid the 
 stormy and dusky clouds, which the wind from time to time drove 
 across her surface. The melancholy and uncertain gleams that she 
 shot from between the passing shadows fell full upon the rifted 
 arches and shafted windows of the old building, which were thus 
 for an instant made distinctly visible in their ruinous state, and 
 anon became again a dark, undistinguished, and shadowy mass. 
 The little lake had its share of these transient beams of light, and 
 showed its waters broken, whitened, and agitated under the passing 
 storm, which, when the clouds swept over the moon, were only dis- 
 tinguished by their sullen and murmuring plash against the beach. 
 The wooded glen repeated, to every successive gust that hurried 
 through its narrow trough, the deep and various groan with which 
 the trees replied to the whirlwind, and the sound sunk again, as the 
 blast passed away, into a faint and passing murmur, resembling the 
 sighs of an exhausted criminal after the first pangs of his torture 
 are over. In these sounds, superstition might have found ample 
 gratification for that state of excited terror which she fears and yet 
 loves. But such feelings made no part of Ochiltree's composition. 
 His mind wandered back to the scenes of his youth. 
 
 "I have kept guard on the outposts baith in Gennany and 
 America," he said to himself, " in mony a waur night than this, and, 
 when I ken'd there was maybe a dozen o' their riflemen in the 
 thicket before me. But I was aye gleg at my duty — naebody ever 
 catched Edie sleeping." 
 
 As he muttered thus to himself, he instinctively shouldered his 
 trusty pike-staff, assumed the port of a sentinel on duty, and, as a 
 step advanced towards the tree, called, with a tone assorting better 
 with his military reminiscences than his present state — " Stand — 
 who goes there .'' " 
 
 " De devil, goot Edie," answered Dousterswivel, " why does you 
 speak so loud as a baarenhauter, or what you call a factionary — I 
 mean a sentinel ? " 
 
 "Just because I thought I was a sentinel at that moment," 
 answered the mendicant. " Here's an awsome night — hae ye 
 brought the lantern and a pock for the siller ? " 
 
 "Ay — ay — mine goot friend," said the German, "here it is — my 
 pair of what you call saddlebag — one side will be for you, one side 
 for me ; — I will put dem on my horse to save you de trouble, as you 
 are old man." 
 
 " Have you a horse here, then ? " asked Edie Ochiltree. 
 
 " O yes, mine friend, tied yonder by de stile," responded the 
 adept. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 217 
 
 " Weel, I hae just a word to the bargain — there sail nane o' my 
 gear gang on your beast's back." 
 
 " What was it as you would be afraid of?" said the foreigner. 
 
 " Only of losing sight of horse, man, and money," again replied 
 the gaberlunzie. 
 
 " Does you know dat you make one gentlemans out to be one 
 great rogue ? " 
 
 " Mony gentlemen," replied Ochiltree, " can make that out for 
 themselves — but what's the sense of quarrelling ? — If ye want to 
 gang on, gang on — If no, I'll gae back to the gude ait-straw in 
 Ringan Aikwood's barn that I left wi' right ill-will e'now, and I'll 
 pit back the pick and shule whar I got them." 
 
 Dousterswivel deliberated a moment, whether, by suffering Edie 
 to depart, he might not secure the whole of the expected wealth for 
 his own exclusive use. But the want of digging implements, the 
 uncertainty whether, if he had them, he could clear out the grave 
 to a sufficient depth without assistance, and, above all, the reluc- 
 tance which he felt, owing to the experience of the former night, to 
 venture alone on the terrors of Misticot's grave, satisfied him the 
 attempt would be hazardous. Endeavouring, therefore, to assume 
 his usual cajoling tone, though internally incensed, he begged " his 
 goot friend Maister Edie Ochiltrees would lead the way, and 
 assured him of his acquiescence in all such an excellent friend 
 could propose." 
 
 "Aweel, aweel, then," said Edie, "tak gude care o' your feet 
 amang the lang grass and the loose stanes — I wish we may get the 
 light keepit in neist, wi' this fearsome wind— but there's a blink o' 
 moon-light at times." 
 
 Thus saying, old Edie, closely accompanied by the adept, led the 
 way towards the ruins, but presently made a full halt in front of 
 them. 
 
 " Ye're a learned man, Mr. Dousterdeevil, and ken muckle o' the 
 marvellous works o' nature— now, will ye tell me ae thing ? — D'ye 
 believe in ghaists and spirits that walk the earth ? — d'ye believe in 
 them, ay or no ? " 
 
 " Now, goot Mr. Edie," whispered Dousterswivel, in an expostu- 
 latory tone of voice, " is this a times or a places for such a ques- 
 tions ? " 
 
 " Indeed is it, baith the tane and the t'other, Mr. Dustanshovel ; 
 for I maun fairly tell ye, there's reports that old Misticot walks. 
 Now this wad be an uncanny night to meet him in, and wha kens 
 if he wad be ower weel pleased wi' our purpose of visiting his 
 pose ? " 
 
 " Alleguter Geisfer" — muttered the adept, the rest of the conjura- 
 
2i8 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 tion being lost in a tremulous warble of his voice, — " I do desires 
 you not to speak so, Mr. Edie ; for, from all I heard dat one other 
 night, I do much believes " 
 
 " Now 1," said Ochiltree, entering the chancel, and flinging 
 abroad his arm with an air of defiance, " I wadna gie the crack o' 
 my thumb for him were he to appear at this moment — he's but a 
 disembodied spirit, as we are embodied anes." 
 
 "For the lofe of heavens,", said Dousterswivel, " say nothing at 
 all neither about somebodies or nobodies ! " 
 
 " Aweel," said the beggar (expanding the shade of the lantern), 
 " here's the stane, and, spirit or no spirit, I'se be a wee bit deeper 
 in the grave ; " and he jumped into the place from which the 
 precious chest had that morning been removed. After striking a 
 few strokes, he tired, or affected to tire, and said to his companion, 
 " I'm auld and failed now, and canna keep at it — Time about's fair 
 play, neighbour ; ye maun get in and tak the shule a bit, and shule 
 out the loose earth, and then I'll tak turn about wi' you." 
 
 Dousterswivel accordingly took the place which the beggar had 
 evacuated, and toiled with all the zeal that awakened avarice, 
 mingled with the anxious wish to finish the undertaking and leave 
 the place as soon as possible, could inspire in a mind at once 
 greedy, suspicious, and timorous. 
 
 Edie, standing much at his ease by the side of the hole, contented 
 himself with exhorting his associate to labour hard. " My certie ! 
 few ever wrought for siccan a day's wage ; an it be but — say the 
 tenth part o' the size o' the kist No. I., it will double its value, being 
 filled wi' gowd instead of silver. — Od, ye work as if ye had been 
 bred to pick and shule — ye could win your round half-crown ilka 
 day. Tak care o' your taes wi' that stane ! " giving a kick to a large 
 one which the adept had heaved out with difficulty, and which 
 Edie pushed back again, to the great annoyance of his associate's 
 shins. 
 
 Thus exhorted by the mendicant, Dousterswivel struggled and 
 laboured among the stones and stiff' clay, toiling like a horse, and 
 internally blaspheming in German. When such an unhallowed 
 syllable escaped his lips, Edie changed his battery upon him. 
 
 " O dinna swear ! dinna swear ! — wha kens wha's listening ! — 
 Eh ! gude guide us ! what's yon — Hout, it's just a branch of ivy 
 flichtering awa frae the wa' ; when the moon was in, it lookit unco 
 like a dead man's arm wi' a taper in't, I thought it was Misticot 
 himsell. But never mind, work you away — fling the earth weel u^ 
 by, out o' the gate — Od, ifye're no as clean a worker at a grave as 
 Will Winnet himsell ! What gars ye stop now? — ye're just at the 
 very bit for a chance*" 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. aig 
 
 " Stop ! " said the German, in a tone of anger and disappoint- 
 ment, "why, I am down at de rocks, dat de cursed ruins (God 
 forgife me !), is founded upon." 
 
 " Weel," said the beggar, " that's the likeliest bit of ony — It will 
 be but a muckle through-stane laid doun to kiver the gowd, tak the 
 pick till't, and pit mair strength, man— ae gude downright devvel 
 will split it, I'se warrant ye — ^Ay, that will do ! — Od, he comes on 
 wi' Wallace's straiks ! " 
 
 In fact, the adept, moved by Edie's exhortations, fetched two or 
 three desperate blows, and succeeded in breaking, not indeed that 
 against which he struck, which, as he had already conjectured, was 
 the solid rock, but the implement which he wielded, jarring at the 
 same time his arms up to the shoulder-blades. 
 
 " Hurra, boys ! — there goes Ringan's pick-axe !" cried Edie, "it's 
 a shame o' the Fairport folk to sell siccan frail gear. Try the shule 
 — at it again, Mr. Dusterdeevil." 
 
 The adept, without reply, scrambled out of the pit, which was 
 now about six feet deep, and addressed his associate in a voice 
 that trembled with anger. "Does you know, Mr. Edies Ochil- 
 trees, who it is that you put off your gibes and your jests 
 upon ? " 
 
 " Brawly, Mr. Dusterdeevil — brawly do I ken ye, and has done 
 mony a day ; but there's nae jesting in the case, for I am wearying 
 to see a' our treasures ; we should hae had baith ends o' the pock- 
 manky filled by this time — I hope it's bowk eneugh to baud a' the 
 
 gear 
 
 ?» 
 
 " Look you, you base old person,'' said the incensed philosopher, 
 " if you do put another jest upon me, I will cleave your skull-piece 
 with this shovels ! " 
 
 " And whare wad my hands and my pilce-staff be a' the time?" 
 replied Edie, in a tone that indicated no apprehension. " Hout, 
 tout, Maister Dusterdeevil, I haena lived sae lang in the warld 
 neither to be shuled out o't that gate. What ails ye to be cankered, 
 man, wi' your friends ? I'U wager I'll find out the treasure in 
 a minute ;." and he jumped into the pit, and took up' the 
 spade. 
 
 " I do swear to you," said the adept, whose suspicions were now 
 fully awake, " that if you have played me one big trick, I wiU give 
 you one big beating, Mr. Edies." 
 
 " Hear till hfm now ! " said Ochiltree ; " he kens how to gar folk 
 find out the gear — Od, I'm thinking he's been drilled that way him- 
 sell some day." 
 
 At this insinuation, which alluded obviously to the former 
 scene betwixt him.self and Sir Arthur, the philosopher lost the 
 
220 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 slender remnant of patience he had left, and being of violent 
 passions, heaved up the truncheon of the broken mattock to dis- 
 charge it upon the old man's head. The blow would in all pro- 
 bability have been fatal, had not he at whom it was aimed ex- 
 claimed in a stern and firm voice, " Shame to ye, man ! — de ye 
 think Heaven or earth will suffer ye to murder an auld man that 
 might be your father ?— Look behind ye, man ! " 
 
 Dousterswivel turned instinctively, and beheld, to his utter 
 astonishment, a tall dark figure standing close behind him. The 
 apparition gave him no time to proceed by exorcism or otherwise, 
 but having instantly recourse to the voie de fait, took measure of 
 the adept's shoulders three or four times with blows so substantial, 
 that he fell under the weight of them, and remained senseless for 
 some minutes between fear and stupefaction. When he came to 
 himself, he was alone in the ruined chancel, lying upon the soft 
 and damp earth which had been thrown out of Misticot's grave. 
 He raised himself with a confused sensation of anger, pain, and 
 terror, and it was not until he had sat upright for some minutes 
 that he could arrange his ideas sufficiently to recollect how he 
 came there, or with what purpose. As his recollection returned, 
 he could have little doubt that the bait held out to him by Ochiltree 
 to bring him to that solitary spot, the sarcasms by which he had 
 provoked him into a quarrel, and the ready assistance which he 
 had at hand for terminating it in the manner in which it had 
 ended, were all parts of a concerted plan to bring disgrace and 
 damage on Herman Dousterswivel. He could hardly suppose 
 that he was indebted for the fatigue, anxiety, and beating which 
 he had undergone, purely to the malice of Edie Ochiltree singly, 
 but concluded that the mendicant had acted a part assigned to him 
 by some person of "greater importance. His suspicions hesitated 
 between Oldbuck and Sir Arthur Wardour. The former had been 
 at no pains to conceal a marked dislike of him — ^but the latter he 
 had deeply injured ; and although he judged that Sir Arthur did 
 not know the extent of his wrongs, towards him, yet it was easy 
 to suppose he had gathered enough of the truth to make him 
 desirous of revenge. Ochiltree had alluded to at least one circum- 
 stance which the adept had every reason to suppose was private 
 lietween Sir Arthur and himself, and , therefore must have been 
 learned from the former. The language of Oldbuck also intimated 
 a conviction of his knavery, which Sir Arthur heard without 
 making any animated defence. Lastly, the way in which Douster- 
 swivel supposed the Baronet to have exercised his revenge, was not 
 inconsistent with the practice of other countries with which the 
 adept was better acquainted than with those of North Britain. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 221 
 
 With him, as with many bad men, to suspect an injury, and to 
 nourish the purpose of revenge, weis one and the same movement. 
 And before Dousterswivel had fairly recovered his legs, he had 
 mentally sworn the ruin of his benefactor, which, unfortunately, he 
 possessed too much the power of accelerating. 
 
 But although a purpose of revenge floated through his brain, it 
 was no time to indulge such speculations. The hour, the place, his 
 own situation, and perhaps the presence or near neighbourhood of 
 his assailants, made self-preservation the adept's first object. The 
 lantern had been thrown down and extinguished in the scuffle. The 
 wmd, which formerly howled so loudly through the aisles of the 
 ruin, had now greatly fallen, lulled by the rain, which was descend- 
 ing very fast. The moon, from the same cause, was totally 
 obscured, and though Dousterswivel had some experience of the 
 ruins, and knew that he must endeavour to regain the eastern door 
 of the chancel, yet the confusion of his ideas was such, that he 
 hesitated for some time ere he could ascertain in what direction he 
 was to seek it. In this perplexity, the suggestions of superstition, 
 taking the advantage of darkness and his evil conscience, began 
 again to present themselves to his disturbed imagination. 
 " But bah! " quoth he valiantly to himself, " it is all nonsense— all 
 one part of de damn big trick and imposture. Devil ! that one 
 thick-skulled Scotch Baronet, as I have led by the nose for five year, 
 should cheat Herman Dousterswivel! " 
 
 As he had come to this conclusion, an incident occurred which 
 tended greatly to shake the grounds on which he had adopted 
 it. Amid the melancholy sough of the dying wind, and the plash 
 of the rain-drops on leaves and stones,, arose, and apparently at no 
 great distance from the listener, a strain of vocal music so sad and 
 solemn, as if the departed spirits of the churchmen who had once 
 inhabited these deserted ruins, were mourning the solitude and 
 desolation to which their hallowed precincts had been abandoned. 
 Dousterswivel, who had now got upon his feet, and was groping 
 around the wall of the chancel, stood rooted to the ground on the 
 occurrence of this new phenomenon. Each faculty of his soul 
 seemed for the moment concentred in the sense of hearing, and 
 all rushed back with the unanimous information, that the deep, 
 wild, and prolonged chant which he now heard, was the appropriate 
 music of one of the most solemn dirges of the church of Rome. 
 Why performed in such a solitude, and by what class of choristers, 
 were questions which the terrified imagination of the adept, stirred 
 with all the German superstitions of nixies, oak-kings, wer-wolves, 
 hobgoblins, black spirits and white, blue spirits and grey, durst not 
 even attempt to solve. 
 
222 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Another of his senses was soon engaged in the investigation. At 
 the extremity of one of the transepts of the church, at the bottom 
 of a few descending steps, was a small iron-grated door, opening, 
 as far as he recollected, to a sort of low vault or sacristy. As he 
 cast his eye in the direction of the sound, he observed a strong re- 
 flection of red light glimmering through these bars, and against 
 the steps which descended to them. Dousterswivel stood a 
 moment uncertain what to do ; then, suddenly forming a desperate 
 resolution, he moved down the aisle to the place from which the 
 light proceeded. 
 
 Fortified with the sign of the cross, and as many exorcisms as 
 his memory could recover, he advanced to the grate, from which, 
 unseen, he could see what passed in the interior of the vault. As 
 he approached with timid and uncertain steps, the chant, after one 
 or two wild and prolonged cadences, died away into profound 
 silence. The grate, when he reached it, presented a singular 
 spectacle in the interior of the sacristy. An open grave, with four 
 tall flambeaus, each about six feet high, placed at the four comers 
 — a bier, having a corpse in its shroud, the arms folded upon the 
 breast, rested upon tressels at one side of the grave, as if ready 
 to be interred — ^A priest, dressed in his cope and stole, held open 
 the service book — another churchman in his vestments bore a 
 holy-water sprinkler — and two boys in white surplices held censers 
 with incense — a man, of a figure once tall and commanding, but 
 now bent with age or infirmity, stood alone and nearest to the 
 coffin, attired in deep mourning — such were the most pro- 
 minent figures of the group. At a little distance were two or 
 three persons of both sexes, attired in long mourning hoods and 
 cloaks ; and five or six others in the same lugubrious dress, still 
 farther removed from the body, around the walls of the vault, stood 
 ranged in motionless order, each bearing in his hand a huge torch 
 of black wax. The smoky light from so many flambeaus, by the 
 red and indistinct atmosphere which it spread around, gave a hazy, 
 dubious, and as it were phantom-like appearance, to the outlines of 
 this singular. apparition. The voice of the priest — loud, clear, and 
 sonorous, now recited, from the breviary which he held in his 
 hand, those solemn words which the ritual of the Catholic church 
 has consecrated to the rendering of dust to dust. Meanwhile, 
 Dousterswivel, the place, the hour, and the surprise considered, 
 still remained uncertain whether what he saw was substantial, 
 or an unearthly representation of the rites to which in former 
 times these walls were familiar, but which are now rarely practised 
 in Protestant countries, and almost never in Scotland. He was 
 uncertain whether to abide the conclusion of the ceremony, or to 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 223 
 
 endeavour to regain the chancel, when a change in his position 
 made him visible through the grate to one of the attendant 
 mourners. The person who first espied him indicated his dis- 
 covery to the individual who stood apart and nearest to the coffin, 
 by a sign, and upon his making a sign in reply, two of the group 
 detached themselves, and, gliding along with noiseless steps, as if 
 fearing to disturb the service, unlocked and opened the grate 
 which separated them from the adept. Each took him by an 
 arm, and exerting a degree of force which he would have been 
 incapable of resisting had his fear permitted him to attempt 
 opposition, they placed him on the ground in the chancel, and sat 
 down, one on each side of him, as if to detain him. Satisfied 
 he was in the power of mortals like himself, the adept would 
 have put some questions to them ; but while one pointed to the 
 vault, from which the sound of the priest's voice was distinctly 
 heard, the other placed his finger upon his lips in token of silence, 
 a hint which the German thought it most prudent to obey. And 
 thus they detained him until a loud Alleluia, pealing through the 
 deserted arches of St. Ruth, closed the singular ceremony which it 
 had been his fortune to witness. 
 
 When the hymn had died away with all its echoes, the voice of 
 one of the sable personages under whose guard the adept had 
 remained, said, in a familiar tone and dialect, "Dear sirs, 
 Mr. Dousterswivel, is this you .'' could not ye have let us ken an 
 ye had wussed till hae been present at the ceremony .? — -My lord 
 couldna tak it weel your coming blinking and jinking in, in that 
 fashion." 
 
 " In de name of all dat is gootness, tell me what you are ? " in- 
 terrupted the German in his turn. 
 
 " What I am ? why, wha should I be but Ringan Aikwood, the 
 Knockwinnock poinder ? — And what are ye doing here at this time 
 o' night, unless ye were come to attend the leddy's burial ? " 
 
 " I do declare to you, mine goot Poinder Aikwood," said the 
 German, raising himself up, " that I have been this vary nights 
 murdered, robbed, and put in fears of my life." 
 
 " Robbed ! wha wad do sic a deed here ? — Murdered ! od, ye 
 speak pretty blithe for a murdered man — Put in fear ! what put you 
 -in-^ear^-M-r. Dousterswivel ? " 
 
 " I will tell you, Maister Poinder Aikwood Ringan, just dat old 
 miscreant dog villain blue-gown, as you call Edie Ochiltrees." 
 
 " I'll ne'er believe that," answered Ringan ; " Edie was ken'd to 
 me, and my father before me, for a true, loyal, and soothfast man ; 
 and, mair by token, he's sleeping up yonder in our barn, and has 
 been since ten at e'en — Sae touch ye wha liket, Mr. Douster- 
 
824 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 swivel, and whether onybody touched ye or no, I'm sure Edie's 
 sackless." 
 
 " Maister Ringan Aikwood Poinders, I do not know what you 
 call sackless, but let alone all de oils and de soot dat you say he 
 has, and I will tell you I was dis Jiight robbed of fifty pounds by 
 your oil and sooty friend, Edies Ochiltree ; and he is no more in 
 your bam even now dan I ever shall be in de kingdom of heafen." 
 
 " Weel, sir, if ye will gae up wi' me, as the burial company has 
 dispersed, we'se mak ye down a bed at the lodge, and we'se see if 
 Edie's at the barn. There were twa wild-looking chaps left the 
 auld kirk when we were coming up wi' the corpse, that's certain ; 
 and the priest, wha likes ill that ony heretics should look on at our 
 church ceremonies, sent twa o' the riding saulies after them ; sae 
 we'll hear a' about it frae them." 
 
 Thus speaking, the kindly apparition, with the assistance of the 
 mute personage, who was his son, disencumbered himself of his 
 cloak, and prepared to escort Dousterswivel to the place of that 
 rest which the adept so much needed. 
 
 " I will apply to the magistrates to-morrow," said the adept ; 
 " oder, I will have de law put in force against all the peoples." 
 
 While he thus muttered vengeance against the cause of his 
 injury, he tottered from among the ruins, supporting himself on 
 Ringan and his son, whose assistance his state of weakness 
 rendered very necessary. 
 
 When they were clear of the priory, and had gained the little 
 meadow in which it stands, Dousterswivel could perceive the 
 torches which had caused him so much alarm issuing in irregular 
 procession from the ruins, and glancing their light, like that of the 
 ignis fatuus, on the banks of the lake. After moving along the 
 path for some short space with a fluctuating and irregular motion, 
 the lights were at once extinguished. 
 
 "We aye put out the torches at the Halie-cross Well on sic 
 occasions," said the forester to his guest ; and accordingly no 
 farther visible sign of the procession offered itself to Douster- 
 swivel, although his ear could catch the distant and decreasing 
 echo of horses' hoofs in the direction towards which the mourners 
 had bent their course. 
 
TspiTffii W<i\PriAiTf. 
 
 .."^yA^^/^^^^^ 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. asS 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 O weel may the boatie row, 
 
 And better may she speed, 
 And weel may the bolatie row 
 
 That earns the bairnies' bread. 
 The boatie rows, the boatie rows, 
 
 The boatie rows fu' weel, 
 And lightsome be their life that bear 
 
 The merlin and the creel ! Old Ballad. 
 
 We must now introduce our reader to the interior of the fisher's 
 cottag^ mentioned in chapter eleventh of this edifying history. I 
 wish I could say that its inside was well arranged, decently fur- 
 nished, or tolerably clean. On the contrary, I am compelled to 
 admit, there was confusion,— there was dilapidation, — there was 
 dirt good store. Yet, with all this, there was about the inmates, 
 Luckie Mucklebackit and her family, an'appearance of ease, plenty, 
 and comfort, that seemed to warrant their old sluttish proverb, 
 " The clartier the cosier." A huge fire, though the season was 
 summer, occupied the hearth, and served at once for affording 
 light, heat, and the means of preparing food. The fishing had 
 been successful, and the family, with customary improvidence, had, 
 since unlading the cargo, continued an unremitting operation of 
 broiling and frying that part of the produce reserved for home con- 
 sumption, and the bones and fragments lay on the wooden 
 trenchers, mingled with morsels of broken bannocks and shattered 
 mugs of half-drunk beer. The stout and athletic form of Maggie 
 herself, bustling here and there among a pack of half-grown girls 
 and younger children, of whom she chucked one now here and 
 another now there, with an exclamation of " Get out o' the gate, ye 
 little sorrow ! " was strongly contrasted with the passive and half- 
 stupified look and manner of her husband's mother, a woman 
 advanced to the last stage of human life, who was seated in her 
 wonted chair close by the fire, the warmth of which she coveted, 
 yet hardly seemed to be sensible of, now muttering to herself, now 
 smihng vacantly to the children as they pulled the strings of her 
 toy or close cap, or twitched her blue checked apron. With her 
 distaff in her bosom, and her spindle in her hand, she plied lazily 
 and mechanically the old-fashioned Scottish thrift, according to the 
 old-fashioned Scottish manner. The younger children, crawling 
 among the feet of the elder, watched the progress of grannie's 
 spindle as it twisted, and now and then ventured to interrupt its 
 progress as it danced upon the floor in those vagaries which the 
 
226 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 more regulated spinning-wheel has now so universally superseded, 
 that even the fated Princess' of the fairy tale might roam through 
 all Scotland without the risk of piercing her hand with a spindle, 
 and dying of the wound. Late as the hour was (and it was long 
 past midnight), the whole family were still on foot, and far from 
 proposing to go to bed ; the dame was still 'busy broiling car-cakes 
 on the girdle, and the elder girl, the half-nalred mermaid elsewhere 
 commemorated, was preparing a pile of Findhorn haddocks (that 
 is, haddocks smoked, with green wood), to be eaten along with these 
 relishing provisions. 
 
 While they were thus employed, a slight tap at the door, accom- 
 panied with the question, " Are ye up yet, sirs ? " announced a 
 visitor. The answer, " Ay, ay — come your ways ben, hinny," occa- 
 sioned the lifting of the latch, and Jenny Rintherout, the female 
 domestic of our Antiquary, made her appearance. 
 
 " Ay, ay," exclaimed the mistress of the family — " Hegh, sirs ! 
 can this be you, Jenny ? a sight o' you's gude for sair een, 
 lass." 
 
 " O woman, we've been sae ta'en up wi' Captain Hectoi^s wound 
 up by, that I havena had my fit out ower the door this fortnight ; 
 but he's better now, and auld Caxon sleeps in his room in case he 
 wanted onything. Sae, as soon as our auld folk gaed to bed, I e'en 
 snooded my head up a bit, and left the hous6-door on the latch, in 
 case onybody should be Wanting in or out while I was awa, and 
 just cam down the gate to see an there was ony cracks amang ye." 
 " Ay, ay," answered Luckie Mucklebackit, " I see ye hae gotten 
 a' your braws on — ye're looking about for Steenie now — but he's no 
 at hame 'the night — and ye'll no do for Steenie, lass — a feckless 
 thing like you's no fit to mainteen a man." 
 
 " Steenie will no do for me," retorted Jenny, with a toss of her 
 head that might have become a higher-born damsel — " I maun hae 
 a man that can mainteen his vnfe." 
 
 " Ou ay, hinny— thae's your landward and burrows-town notions. 
 My certie ! fisher-wives ken better — they keep the man, and keep 
 the house, and keep the siller too, lass." 
 
 " A wheen poor drudges ye are," answered the nymph of the 
 land to the nymph of the sea. — '■ As sune as the keel o' the coble 
 touches the sand, deil a bit mair will the lazy ^sher loons work, but 
 the wives maun kilt their coats, and wade into the surf to tak the 
 fish ashore. And then the man casts aff the wat and puts on the 
 dry, and sits doun wi' his pipe and his gill-stoup ahint the ingle, 
 like ony auld houdie, and ne'er a turn will he do till the coble's 
 afloat again !^And the wife, she maun get the scull on her back, 
 and awa wi' the fish to the next burrows-town, and scauld and ban 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 227 
 
 wi' ilka wife that will scauld and ban wi' her till it's -Sauld — and 
 that's the gait fisher-wives live, puir slaving bodies." 
 
 " Slaves ? gae wa', lass ! — Ca' the head o' the house slaves ? little 
 ye ken about it, lass. — Show me a word my Saunders daur speak, 
 or a turn he daur do about the house, without it be just to tak his 
 meat, and his drink, and his diversion, like ony o' the weans. He 
 has mair sense than to ca' onything about the bigging his ain, frae 
 the rooftree doun to a crackit trencher on the bink. He kens weel 
 eneugh wha feeds him, and deeds him, and keeps a' tight, thack 
 and rape, when his coble is jowing awa in the Firth, puir fallow. 
 Na, na, lass ! — them that sell the goods guide the purse — them that 
 guide the purse rule' the house. Show me ane o' your bits o' 
 farmer-bodies that wad let their wife drive the stock to the market, 
 and ca' in the debts. Na, na." * 
 
 " Aweel, aweel, Maggie, ilka land has its ain lauch — -But where's, 
 Steenie the nicht, when a's come and gane ? And where's the 
 gudeman ? " ' 
 
 " I hae puttin' the gudeman to his bed, for he was e'en sair for- 
 fairn ; and Steenie's awa out about some birns-breaking wi' the 
 auld gaberlunzie, Edie Ochiltree-^they'll be in sune, and ye can sit 
 doun." 
 
 " Troth, gudewife " (taking a seat), " I haena that muckle time 
 to stop — but I maun tell ye about the news. — Ye'll hae heard o' the 
 muckle kist o' gowd that Sir Arthur has fund down by at St. Ruth ? 
 ■ — He'll be grander than ever now — he'll no can baud down his 
 head to sneeze, for fear o' seeing his shoon." 
 
 " Ou ay — a' the countr/s heard o' that ; but auld Edie says they 
 ca' it ten times mair than ever was o't, and he saw them howk it 
 up. Od, it would be lang or a puir body that needed it got sic a 
 windfa'." 
 
 " Na, that's sure eneugh. — And ye'll hae heard o' the Countess o' 
 Glenallan being dead and lying in state, and how she's to be buried 
 at St. Ruth's as this night fa's, wi' torch-light ; and a' the papist 
 servants, and Ringan Aikwood, that's a papist too, are to be there, 
 and it will be the grandest show ever was seen." 
 
 " Troth, hinny," answered the Nereid, " if they let naebody but 
 papists come there, it'll no be muckle o' a show in this country ; for 
 the auld harlot, as honest Mr. Blattergowl ca's her, has few that 
 drink o' her cup of enchantments in this corner of our chosen 
 lands. — But what can ail them to bury the auld carlin (a rudas 
 wife she was) in the nicht time ? — I dare say our gudemither will 
 ken." 
 
 Here she exalted her voice, and exclaimed twice or thrice, 
 " Gudemither ! gudemither ! " but, lost in the apathy of age and 
 
228 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 deafness, the aged sibyl she addressed continued plying her spindle 
 without understanding the appeal made to her. 
 
 " Speak to your grandmither, Jenny — od, I wad rather hail the 
 coble half a mile aff, and the nor-wast wind whistling again in my 
 teeth." 
 
 " Grannie,'' said the little mermaid, in a voice to which the old 
 woman was better accustomed^ " minnie wants to ken what for the 
 Glenallan folk aye bury by candle-light in the ruins of St. Ruth ? " 
 
 The old woman paused in the act of twirling the spindle, turned 
 round to the rest of the party, lifted her withered, trembUng, and 
 clay-coloured hand, raised up her ashen-hue'd and wrinkled face, 
 which the quick motion of two light-blue eyes chiefly distinguished 
 from the visage of a corpse, and, as if catching at any touch of 
 association with the living world, answered, "What gars the 
 Glenallan family inter their dead by torch-light, said the lassie ? — 
 Is there a Glenallan dead e'en now? " 
 
 " We might be a' dead and buried too," said Maggie, " for ony- 
 thing ye wad ken about it ; " — and then, raising her voice to the 
 stretch of her mother-in-lp.w's comprehension, she added, " It's the 
 auld Countess, gudemither." 
 
 "And is she ca'd hame then at last?" said the old woman, in ai 
 voice that seemed to be agitated with much more feeling than 
 belonged to her extreme old age, and the general indifference and 
 apathy of her manner — " is she then called to her last account after 
 her lang race o' pride and power ? — O God forgie her ! " 
 
 " But minnie was asking ye," resumed the lesser querist, " what 
 for the Glenallan family aye bury their dead by torch-light ? " 
 
 " They hae aye dune sae," said the grandmother, " since the 
 time the Great Earl fell in the sair battle o' the Harlaw, when they 
 say the coronach was cried in ae day from the mouth o' the Tay to 
 the Buck of the Cabrach, that ye wad hae heard nae ither sound 
 but that of lamentation for the great folks that had fa'en fighting 
 against Donald of the Isles. — But the Great Earl's mither was 
 living — they were a doughty and a dour race the women o' the 
 house o' Glenallan — and she wad hae nae coronach cried for her 
 son, but had him laid in the silence o' midnight in his place o' rest, 
 without either drinking the dirge, or crying the lament. — She said 
 he had killed enow that day he died, for the widows and daughters 
 o' the Highlanders he had slain to cry the coronach for them they 
 had lost, and for her son too ; and sae she laid him in his grave 
 wi' dry eyes, and without a groan or a wail.— And it was thought a 
 proud word o' the family, and they aye stickit by it — and the mair 
 in the latter times, because in the night-time they had mair freedom 
 to perform their popish ceremonies by darkness and in secrecy 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 229 
 
 than in the daylight — at least that was the case in my time — they 
 wad hae been disturbed in the day-time baith by the law and the 
 commons of Fairport — they may be owerlooked now, as I have 
 heard — the warld's changed — I whiles hardly ken whether I am 
 standing or sitting, or dead, or living." 
 
 And looking round the fire, as if in the state of unconscious 
 uncertainty of which she complained, old Elspeth relapsed into her 
 habitual and mechanical occupation of twirling the spindle. 
 
 " Eh, sirs ! " said Jenny Rintherout, under her breath to her 
 gossip, " it's awsome to hear your gudemither break out in that 
 gait — it's like the dead speaking to the living." 
 
 " Ye're no that far wrang, lass ; she minds naething o' what 
 passes the day — but set her on auld tales, and she can speak like a 
 prent buke. She kens mair about the Glenallan family than maist 
 folk — the gudeman's father was their fisher mony a day. Ye maun 
 ken the papists mak a great point o' eating fish — it's nae bad part 
 o' their religion that, whatever the rest is — I could aye sell the best 
 o' fish at the best o' prices for the Countess's ain table, grace be wi' 
 her ! 'especially on a Friday — But see as our gudemither's hands 
 and lips are ganging — now it's working in her head like barm — 
 she'll speak eneugh the night — whiles she'll no speak a word in a 
 week, unless it be to the bits o' bairns." 
 
 " Hegh, Mrs. Mucklebackit, she's an awsome wife !" said Jenny 
 in reply. " D'ye think she's a'thegither richt ? — Folk says she downa 
 gang to the kirk, or speak to the minister, and that she was ance a 
 papist ; but since her gudeman's been dead, naebody kens what she 
 is.-;— D'ye think yourseU that she's no uncanny ? " 
 
 " Canny, ye silly tawpie ! think ye ae auld wife's less canny than 
 anither? unless it be Alison Breck — I really couldna in conscience 
 swear for her — I have kent the boxes she set fiU'd wi' partans 
 when " 
 
 " Whisht, whisht, Maggie," whispered Jenny, " your gudemither's 
 gaun to speak again." 
 
 " Wasna there some ane o' ye said," asked the old sibyl, " or did 
 I dream, -or was it revealed to me, that Joscelind, Lady Glenallan 
 is dead, an' buried this night ? " 
 
 " Yes, gudemither," screamed the daughter-in-law, " it's e'en sae.'' 
 
 " And e'en sae let it be," said old Elspeth ; " she's made mony a 
 sair heart in her day — ay, e'en her ain son's — is he living yet ?" 
 
 " Ay, he's living yet — but how lang he'll live — however, dinna ye 
 mind his coming and asking after you in the spring, and leaving 
 siller?"' 
 
 " It may be sae, Maggie — I dinna mind it — ^but a handsome gen- 
 tleman he was, and his father before him. Eh ! if his father had 
 
230 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 lived, they might hae been happy folk ! — But he was gane, and the 
 lady carried it in-ower and out-ower wi' her son, and garr'd him 
 trow the thing he never suld hae trowed, and do the thing he 
 has repented a' his life, and will repent still, were his life as lang as 
 this lang and wearisome ane o' mine." 
 
 " O what was it, grannie ? " — and " What was it, gudemither ?" — 
 and "What was it, Luckie Elspeth.-"' asked the children, the 
 mother, and the visitor, in one breath. 
 
 " Never ask what it was," answered the old sibyl, "but pray to 
 God that ye arena left to the pride and wilfu'ness o' your ain hearts. 
 — They may be as powerful in n. cabin as in a Castle — I can bear a 
 sad witness to that. — O that weary and fearfu' nicht ! will it never 
 gang out o' my auld head ? — Eh ! to see her lying on the floor wi' 
 her lang hair dreeping wi' the salt water ! — Heaven will avenge on 
 a' that had to do wi't. — Sirs ! is my son out wi' the coble this windy 
 ■ e'en?" 
 
 " Na, na, mither — nae coble can keep the sea this wind — he's 
 sleeping in his bed out-ower yonder ahint the hallan." 
 
 "Is Steenie out at sea then ? " 
 
 " Na, grannie — Steenie's awa out wi' auld Edie Ochiltree, the 
 gaberlunzie — maybe they'll be gaun to see the burial." 
 
 " That canna be," said the mother of the family. — " We kent 
 naething o't till Jock Rand cam in, and tauld us the Aikwoods 
 had warning to attend ; they keep thae things unco private, and 
 they were to bring the corpse a' the way frae the Castle, ten miles 
 off, under cloud o' night. She has lain in state this ten days at 
 Glenallan-House, in a grand chamber, a' hung wi' black, and 
 lighted wi' wax cannle." 
 
 " God assoilzie her ! " ejaculated old Elspeth, her head apparently 
 still ogcupied by the event of the Countess's death ; — '' she was a 
 hard-hearted woman, but she's gaen to account for it a', and His 
 mercy is infinite — God grant she may find it sae ! " — And she 
 relapsed into silence, which she did not break again during the rest 
 of the evening. 
 
 " I wonder what that auld daft beggar carle and our son Steenie 
 can be doing out in sic a nicht as this," said Maggie Mucldebackit ; 
 and her expression of surprise was echoed by her visitor. " Gang 
 awa, ane o' ye, hinnies, up to the heugh head, and gie them a cry 
 in case they're within hearing — the car-cakes will be burnt to a 
 cinder." 
 
 The little emissary departed, but in a few minutes came running 
 back with the loud exclamation, " Eh, minnie ! eh, grannie ! there's 
 a white bogle chasing twa black anes down the heugh." 
 
 A noise of footsteps followed this singular annunciation, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. a3i 
 
 young Steenie Mucklebackit, closely followed by Edie Ochiltree, 
 bounced into the hut. They were panting and out of breath. The 
 first thing Steenie did was to look for the bar of the door, which his 
 mother reminded him had been broken up for fire-wood in the 
 hard winter three years ago ; " for what use," she said, " had th 
 like o' them for bars ? " 
 
 "There's naebody chasing us," said the beggar, after he had 
 taken his breath : " we're e'en like the wicked, that flee when no 
 one pursueth." 
 
 " Troth, but we were chased," said Steenie, " by a spirit, or some- 
 thing little better." 
 
 " It was a man in white on horseback," said Edie, " for the saft 
 grund, that wadna bear the beast, flung him about, I wot that weel ; 
 but I didna think my auld legs could have brought me aff as fast ; 
 I ran amaist as fast as if I had been at Prestonpans." 
 
 " Hout, ye daft gowks ! " said Luckie Mucklebackit, "it will hae 
 been some o' the riders at the Countess's burial." 
 
 " What ! " said Edie, " is the auld Countess buried the night at 
 St. Ruth's ? — Ou, that wad be the lights and the noise that scarr'd 
 us awa ; I wish I had ken'd — I wad hae stude them, and no left the 
 ftian yonder — but they'll tak care o' him. Ye strake ower hdrd, 
 Steenie — I doubt ye foundered the chield." 
 
 "Ne'er a bit," said Steenie, laughing ; "he has braw broad 
 shouthers, and I just took the measure o' them wi' the, stang — Od, 
 if I hadna been something short wi' him, he wad hae knockit your 
 auld hams out, lad." 
 
 " Weel, an I win clear o' this scrape;" said Edie, " I'se tempt 
 Providence nae mair. But I canna think it an unlawfu' thing to 
 pit a bit trick on sic a land-louping scounrel, tliat just lives by 
 tricking honester folk." 
 
 " But what are we to do with this?" said Steenie, producing a 
 pocket-book. 
 
 " Od guide us, man," said Edie, in great alarm, " what garr'd ye 
 touch the gear? a very leaf o' that pocket-book wad be eneugh to 
 hang us baith." 
 
 " I dinna ken,'' said Steenie ; " the book had fa'en out o' his 
 pocket, I fancy, for I fand it amang my feet when I was graping 
 about to set him on his legs again, and I just pat it in my pouch to 
 keep it safe ; and then came the tramp of horse, and you cried, 
 ' Rin, rin,' and I had nae mair thocht o' the book." 
 
 " We maun get it back to the loon some gait or other ; ye had 
 better tak it yoursell, I think, wi' peep o' light, up to Ringan Aik- 
 wood's. I wadna for a hundred pounds it was fund in our hands." 
 
 Steenie undertook to do as he was directed. 
 
232 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " A bonny nicht ye hae made o't, Mr. Steenie," said Jenny Rin- 
 therout, who, impatient of remaining so long unnoticed, now pre- 
 sented herself to the young fisherman — " A bonny nicht ye hae 
 made o't, tramping about wi' gaberlunzies, and getting yoursell 
 hunted wi' worricows, when ye suld be sleeping in your bed like 
 your father, honest man." 
 
 This attack called forth a suitable response of rustic raillery from 
 the young fisherman. An attack was now commenced upon the 
 car-cakes and smoked fish, and sustained with great perseverance 
 by assistance of a bicker or two of twopenny ale and a bottle 
 of gin. The mendicant then retired to the straw of an out-house 
 adjoining, — the children had one by one crept into their nests, — the 
 old grandmother was deposited in her flock-bed, — Steenie, notwith- 
 standing his preceding fatigue, had the gallantry to accompany Miss 
 Rintherout to her own mansion, and at what hour he returned the 
 story saith not, — and the matron of the family, having laid the 
 gathering coal upon the fire, and put things in some sort of order, 
 retired to rest the last of the family. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 -Many great ones 
 
 Would part with half their states, to have the plan 
 
 And credit to beg in the first style 
 
 Beggar's Bush. 
 
 Old Edie was stirring with the lark, and his first inquiry was 
 after Steenie and the pocket-book. The young fisherman had been 
 under the necessity of attending his father before daybreak, to avail 
 themselves of the tide, but he had promised that, immediately on 
 his return, the pocket-book, with all its contents, carefully wrapped 
 up in a piece of sail-cloth, should be delivered by him to Ringan 
 Aikwood, for Dousterswivel the owner. 
 
 The matron had prepared the morning meal for the family, and 
 shouldering her basket of fish, tramped sturdily away towards P'air- 
 port. ,The children were idling round the door, for the day was fair 
 and sun-shiney. The ancient grandame, again seated on her 
 wicker-chair by the fire, had resumed her eternal spindle, wholly 
 unmoved by the yelling and screaming of the children, and the 
 scolding of the mother, which had preceded the dispersion of the 
 family. Edie had arranged his various bags, and was bound for the 
 renewal of his wandering life, but first advanced with due courtesy 
 to take his leave of the ancient crone. 
 
 " Gude day to ye, cummer, and mony ane o' them. I will be 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. k33 
 
 back about the fore-end o' har'st, and I trust to find ye baith haill 
 and fere." 
 
 " Pray that ye may find me in my quiet grave," said the old 
 woman, in a hollow and sepulchral voice, but without the agitation 
 of a single feature. 
 
 " Ye're auld, cummer, and sae am I mysell ; but we maun abide 
 His will — we'll no be forgotten in His good time." 
 
 " Nor our deeds neither," said the crone : " what's dune in the 
 body maun be answered in the spirit." 
 
 " I wot that's true ; and I may weel tak the tale hame to mysell, 
 that hae led a misruled and roving life. But ye were aye a canny 
 wife. We're a' frail — but ye canna hae sae muckle to bow ye doun." 
 
 " Less than I micht have had — but mair, O far mair, than wad 
 sink the stoutest brig e'er sailed out o' Fairport harbour ! — Didna 
 somebody say yestreen— at least sae it is borne in on my mind — 
 but auld folk hae weak fancies — did not somebody say that Josce- 
 lind. Countess of Glenallan, was departed frae life .'' " 
 
 " They said the truth whaever said it," answered old Edie ; " she 
 was buried yestreen by torch-light at St. Ruth's, and I, like a fule, 
 gat a gliff wi' seeing the lights and the riders." 
 
 " It was their fashion since the days of the Great Earl that was 
 killed at Harlaw — They did it to show scorn that they should die 
 and be buried like other mortals — the wives o' the house of Glen- 
 allan wailed nae wail for the husband, nor the sister for the brother. 
 — But is she e'en ca'd to the lang account ? " 
 
 " As sure," answered Edie, " as we maun a' abide it." 
 
 " Then I'll unlade my mind, come o't what will." 
 
 This she spoke with more alacrity than usually attended her ex- 
 pressions, and accompanied her words with an attitude of the hand, 
 as if throwing something from her. She then raised up her form, 
 once tall, and still retaining the appearance of having been so, 
 though bent with age and rheumatism, and stood before the beggar 
 like a mummy animated by some wandering spirit into a tempo- 
 rary resurrection. Her light-blue eyes wandered to and fro, as if 
 she occasionally forgot and again remembered the purpose for 
 which her long and withered hand was searching among the mis- 
 cellaneous contents of an ample old-fashioned pocket. At length 
 she pulled out a small chip-box, and opening it, took out a hand- 
 some ring, in which was set a braid of hair, composed of two dif- 
 ferent colours, black and light brown, twined together, encircled 
 with brilliants of considerable value. 
 
 " Gudeman," she said to Ochiltree, "as ye wad e'er deserve 
 mercy, ye maun gang my errand to the house of Glenallan, and ask 
 for the Earl." 
 
234 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " The Earl of Glenallan, cummer ! ou, he winna see ony o' the 
 gentles o' the country, and what likelihood is there that he wad see 
 the like o' an auld gaberlunzie ? " 
 
 " Gang your ways and try ; — and tell him that Elspeth o' the 
 Craigburnfoot — ^he'U mind me best by that name — maun see him or 
 she be relieved frae her lang pilgrimage, and that she sends him 
 that ring in token of the business she wad speak o'." 
 
 Ochiltree looked on the ring with some admiration of its appa- 
 rent value, and then carefully replacing it in the box, and wrapping 
 it in an old ragged handkerchief, he deposited the token in his 
 bosom. 
 
 " Weel, gudewife," he said, " I'se do your bidding, or it's no be my 
 fault. — But surely there was never sic a braw propine as this sent 
 to a yerl by an auld fish-wife, and through the hands of a gaber- 
 lunzie beggar." 
 
 With this reflection, Edie took up his pike-staff, put on his broad- 
 brimmed bonnet, and set forth upon his pilgrimage. The old 
 woman remained for some time standing in a fixed posture, her 
 eyes directed to the door through which her ambassador had 
 departed. The appearance of excitation, which the conversation 
 had occasioned, gradually left her features — she sunk down upon 
 her accustomed seat, and resumed her mechanical labour of the 
 distaff and spindle, with her wonted air of apathy. 
 
 Edie Ochiltree meanwhile advanced on his journey. The distance 
 to Glenallan was ten miles, a march which the old soldier accom- 
 plished in about four hours. With the curiosity belonging to his 
 idle trade and animated character, he tortured himself the whole 
 way to consider what could be the meaning of this mysterious 
 errand with which he was intrusted, or what connexion the proud, 
 wealthy, and powerful Earl of Glenallan could have with the crimes 
 or penitence of an old doting woman, whose rank in life did not 
 greatly exceed that of her messenger. He endeavoured to call to 
 memory all that he had ever known or heard of the Glenallan 
 family, yet, having done so, remained altogether unable to form a 
 conjecture on the subject. He knew that the whole extensive estate 
 of this ancient and powerful family had descended to the Countess 
 lately deceased, who inherited, in a most remarkablp degree, the 
 stern, fierce, and unbending character, which had distinguished the 
 house of Glenallan since they first figured in Scottish annals. Like 
 the rest of her ancestors, she adhered zealously to the Roman 
 Catholic faith, and was married to an English gentleman of the 
 same communion, and of large fortune, who did not survive their 
 union two years. The Countess was, therefore, left an early 
 widow, with the uncontrolled management of the large estates of her 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 23S 
 
 two. sons. The elder, Lord Geraldin, who was to succeed to the 
 title and fortune of Glenallan, was totally dependent on his mother 
 during her life. The second, when he came of age, assumed the 
 name and arms of his father, and took possession of his estate, 
 according to the provisions of the Countess's marriage settlement. 
 After this period, he chiefly resided in England, and paid very few 
 and brief visits to his mother and brother ; and these at length 
 were altogether dispensed with, in consequence of his becoming a 
 convert to the reformed religion. 
 
 But even before this mortal offence was given to its mistress, his 
 residence at Glenallan offered few inducements to a gay young man 
 like Edward Geraldin Neville, though its gloom and seclusion 
 seemed to suit the retired and melancholy habits of his elder bro- 
 ther. Lord Geraldin, in the outset of life, had been a young man 
 of accomplishment and hopes. Those who knew him upon his 
 travels entertained the highest expectations of his future career. 
 But such fair dawns are often strangely overcast. The young 
 nobleman returned to Scotland, and after living about a year in his 
 mother's society at Glenallan-House, he seemed to have adopted 
 all the stern gloom and melancholy of her character. Excluded 
 from politics by the incapacities attached to those of his religion, 
 and from all lighter avocations by choice, Lord Geraldin led a life 
 of the strictest retirement. ' His ordinary society was composed of 
 the clergymen of his communion, who occasionally visited his man- 
 sion ; and very rarely, upon stated occasions of high festival, one 
 or two families who still professed the Catholic religion were form- 
 ally entertained at Glenallan-House. But this was all ; — their 
 heretic neighbours knew nothing of the family whatever ; and even 
 the Catholics saw little more than the sumptuous entertainment and 
 solemn parade which was exhibited on those formal bccasions, 
 from which all returned without knowing whether most to wonder 
 at the stern and stately demeanour of the Countess, or the deep 
 and gloomy dejection which never ceased for a moment to cloud 
 the features of her son. The late event had'put him in possession 
 of his fortune and title, and the neighbourhood, had already begun 
 to conjecture whether gaiety would revive with independence, when 
 those who had some occasional acquaintance with the interior of 
 the family, spread abroad a repoi't, that the earl's constitution was 
 undermined by religious austerities, and that in all probability he 
 would soon follow his mother to the grave. This event was the 
 more probable, as his brother had died of a lingering complaint, 
 which, in the latter years of his life, had affected at once his frame 
 and his spirits : so that heralds and genealogists were already look- 
 ing back into their records to discover the heir of this ill-fated 
 
23S THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 family, and lawyers were talking, with gleesome anticipation, of 
 the probability of a " great Glenallan cause." 
 
 As Edie Ochiltree approached the front of Glenallan-House, an 
 ancient building of great extent, the most modern part of which had 
 been designed by the celebrated Inigo Jones, he began to consider 
 in what way he should be most likely to gain access for delivery of 
 his message ; and, after much consideration, resolved to send the 
 token to the Earl by one of the domestics. With this purpose he 
 stopped at a cottage, where he obtained the means of making up 
 the ring in a sealed packet like a petition, addressed, Forr his 
 hounor the Yerl of Glenllan — These. But being aware that mis- 
 sives delivered at the doors, of great houses by such persons as 
 himself, do not always make their way according to address, Edie 
 determined, like an old soldier, to reconnoitre the ground before he 
 made his final attack. As he approached the porter's lodge, he 
 discovered, by the number of poor ranked before it, some of them 
 being indigent persons in the vicinity, and others itinerants of his 
 own begging profession, — that there was about to be a general dole 
 or distribution of charity. ' 
 
 " A good turn," said Edie to himself, " never goes unrewarded — 
 I'll maybe get a good awmous that I wad hae missed but for trot- 
 ting on this auld wife's errand." 
 
 Accordingly, he ranked up with the rest of this ragged regiment, 
 assuming a station as near the front as possible, — a distinction 
 due, as he conceived, to his blue gown and badge, no less than to 
 his years and experience ; but he soon found there was another 
 principle of precedence in this assembly, to which he had not 
 adverted. 
 
 " Are ye a triple man, friend, that ye press forward sae bauldly ? 
 — I'm thinking no, for there's nae Catholics wear that badge." 
 
 " Na, na, I am no a Roman," said Edie. 
 
 " Then shank yoursell awa to the double folk, or single folk, 
 that's the Episcopals or Presbyterians yonder — it's a shame to see 
 a heretic hae sic a lang white beard, that would do credit to a 
 hermit." 
 
 Ochiltree, thus rejected from the society of the Catholic mendi- 
 cants, or those who called themselves such, went to station himself 
 with the paupers of the communion of the church of England, to 
 whom the noble donor allotted a double portion of his charity. 
 But never was a poor occasional conformist more roughly rejected 
 by a High-church congregation, even when that matter was furi- 
 ously agitated in the days of good Queen Anne. 
 
 " See to him wi' his badge ! " they said ; " he hears ane o' the 
 king's Presbyterian chaplains sough out a sermon on the morning 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 337 
 
 of every birth-day, and now he would pass himsell for ana 0' the 
 Episcopal church ! Na, na ! we'll take care o' that." 
 
 Edie, thus rejected by Rome and Prelacy, was fain to shelter 
 himself from the laughter of his brethren among the thin group of 
 Presbyterians, who had either disdained to disguise their religious 
 opinions for the sake of an augmented dole, or perhaps knew 
 they could not attempt the imposition without a certainty of 
 detection. 
 
 The same degree of precedence was observed in the mode of 
 distributing the charity, which consisted in bread, beef, and a piece 
 of money, to each individual of , all the three classes. The almoner, 
 an ecclesiastic of grave appearance and demeanour, superintended 
 in person the accommodation of the Catholic mendicants, asking 
 a question or two of each as he delivered the charity, and recom- 
 mending to their prayers the soul of Joscelind, late Countess of 
 Glenallan, mother of their benefactor. The porter, distinguished 
 by his long staff headed with silver, and by the black gown tufted 
 with lace of the same colour, which he had assumed upon the 
 general mourning in the family, overlooked the distribution of the 
 dole among the prelatists. The less-favoured kirk-folk were com- 
 mitted to the charge of an aged domestic. 
 
 As this last discussed some disputed point with the porter, his 
 name, as it chanced to be occasionally mentioned, and then his 
 features, struck Ochiltree, and awakened recollections of former 
 times. The rest of the assembly were now retiring, when the do- 
 mestic, again approaching the place where Edie still lingered, said, 
 in a strong Aberdeenshire accent, " Fat is the auld feel-body deeing, 
 that he canna gang avay, now that he's gotten baith meat and 
 siller?" 
 
 " Francie Macraw,'' answered Edie Ochiltree, "d'ye no mind 
 Fontenoy, and ' Keep thegither, front and rear ! ' " 
 
 " Ohon ! ohon ! " cried Francie, with a true north-country yell of 
 recognition, " naebody could hae said that word but my auld front- 
 rank man, Edie Ochiltree ! But I'm sorry to see ye in sic a peer 
 state, man." 
 
 " No sae ill aff as ye may think, Francie. But I'm laith to leave 
 this place without a crack wi' you, and I kenna when I may see 
 you again, for your folk dinna mak Protestants welcome, and that's- 
 ae reason that I hae never been here before." 
 
 " Fusht, fusht," said Francie, " let that flee stick i' the wa' — when 
 the dirt's dry it will rub oot ; — and come you awa wi' me, and I'll 
 gie ye something better than that beef bane, man." 
 
 Having then spoke a confidential word with the porter (probably 
 <-o request his connivance), and having waited until the almoner 
 
238 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 had returned into the house with slow and solemn steps, Francie 
 Macraw introduced his old comrade into the court of Glenallan- 
 House, the gloomy gateway of which was surmounted by a huge 
 scutcheon, in which the herald and undertaker had mingled, as 
 usual, the emblems of human pride and of human nothingness ; 
 the Countess's hereditary coat-of-arms, with all its numerous 
 quarterings, disposed in a lozenge, and surrounded by the separate 
 shields of her paternal and maternal ancestry, intermingled with 
 scythes, hour-glasses, skulls, and other symbols of that mortality 
 which levels all distinctions. Conducting his friend as speedily as 
 possible along the large paved court, Macraw led the way through 
 a side-door to a small apartment near the servants' hall, which, in 
 virtue of his personal attendance upon the Earl of Glenallan, he 
 was entitled to call his own. To produce cold meat of various 
 kinds, strong beer, and even a glass of spirits, was no difficulty to a 
 person of Francie's importance, who had not lost, in his sense of 
 conscious dignity, the keen northern prudence which recommended 
 a good understanding with the butler. Our mendicant envoy drank 
 ale, and talked over old stories with his comrade, until, no other 
 ' topic of conversation occurring, he resolved to take up the theme 
 of his embassy, .which had for some time escaped his memory. 
 
 " He had a petition to present to the Earl," he said ; — for he 
 judged it prudent to say nothing of the ring, not knowing, as he 
 afterwards observed, how far the manners of a single soldier* 
 might have been corrupted by service in a great house. 
 
 " Hout, tout, man," said Francie, " the Earl will look at nae 
 petitions — but I can gie't to the almoner." 
 
 " But it relates to some secret, that maybe my lord wad like best 
 to see't himsell." 
 
 " I'm jeedging that's the very reason that the almoner will be for 
 seeing it the first and foremost." 
 
 " But I hae come a' this way on purpose to deliver it, Francie, 
 and ye really maun help me at a pinch." 
 
 " Ne'er speed then if I dinna," answered the Aberdeenshire man : 
 " let them be as cankered as they like, they can but turn me awa, 
 and I was just thinking to ask my discharge, and gang doun to 
 end my days at Inverurie." 
 
 With this doughty resolution of serving his friend at all ventures, 
 since none was to be encountered which could much inconvenience 
 himself, Francie Macraw left the apartment. It was long before 
 he returned, and when he did, his manner indicated wonder and 
 agitation. 
 
 " I am nae seere gin ye be Edie Ochiltree o' Carrick's company 
 in the Forty-twa, or gin ye be the deil in his likeness 1 " 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 239 
 
 " And what maks ye speak in that gait ? " demanded the aston- 
 ished mendicant 
 
 " Because my lord has been in sic a distress and surpreese as I 
 ne'er saw a man in my life. But he'll see you — I got that job 
 cookit. He was like a man awa frae himsell for mony minutes, 
 and I thought he wad hae swarv't a'thegither, — and fan he cam'' 
 to himsell, he asked fae brought the packet— and fat trow ye I 
 said ? " 
 
 " An auld soger," says Edie ; " that does likeliest at a gentle's 
 door^ — at a farmer's it's best to say ye're an auld tinkler, if ye need 
 ony quarters, for maybe the gudewife will hae something to 
 souther." 
 
 " But I said ne'er ane o' the twa," answered Francie ; "my lord 
 cares as little about the tane as the tother — for he's best to them 
 that can souther up our sins. Sae I e'en said the bit paper was 
 brought by an auld man wi' a lang fite beard — ^he might be a capee- 
 chin freer for fat I kend, for he was dressed like an auld palmer. 
 Sae ye'U be sent for up fanever he can find mettle to face ye." 
 
 " I wish I was weel through this business," thought Edie to himself : 
 " mony folk surmise that the earl's no very richt in the judgment, 
 and wha can say how far he may be offended wi' me for takin 
 upon me sae muckle ? " 
 
 But there was now no room for retreat — a bell sounded from a 
 distant part of the mansion, and Macraw said, with a smothered 
 accent, as if already in his master's presence, " That's my lord's bell . 
 — follow me, and step lightly and cannily, Edie." 
 
 Edie followed his guide, who seemed to tread as if afraid of being 
 overheard, through a long passage, and up a back stair, which ad- 
 mitted them into the family apartments. They were ample and ex- 
 tensive, furnished at such cost as showed the ancient importance 
 and splendour of the .family. But aU the ornaments were in the 
 taste of a former and distant period, and one would have almost 
 supposed himself traversing the halls of a Scottish nobleman 
 before the union of the crowns. The late Countess, partly from a 
 haughty contempt of the times in which she lived, partly from her 
 sense of family pride, liad not permitted the furniture to be altered 
 or modernized during her residence at Glenallan-House. The most 
 magnificent part of the decorations was a valuable collection of pic- 
 tures by the best masters, whose massive frames were somewhat 
 tarnished by time. In this particular also the gloomy taste of the 
 family seemed to predominate. There were some fine family por- 
 traits by Vandyke and other masters of eminence ; but the col- 
 lection was richest in the Saints and Martyrdoms of Domeni- 
 chino, Velasquez, and Murillo, and other subjects of the same 
 
240 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 kind, which had been selected in preference to landscapes or histo- 
 rical pieces. The manner in which these awful, and sometimes 
 disgusting, subjects were represented, harmonized with the gloomy 
 state of the apartments ; a circumstance which was not altogether 
 lost on the old man, as he traversed them under the guidance of 
 his quondam fellow-soldier. He was about to express some senti- 
 ment of this kind, but Francie imposed silence on him by signs, 
 and opening a door at the end of the long picture-gallery, ushered 
 him into a small antechamber hung with black. Here they found 
 the almoner, with his ear turned to a door opposite that by which 
 they entered, in the attitude of one who listens with attention, but 
 is at the same time afraid of being detected in the act. 
 
 The old domestic and churchman started when they perceived 
 each other. But the almoner first recovered his recollection, and 
 advancing towards Macraw, said, under his breath, but with an 
 authoritative tone, " How dare you approach the Earl's apartment 
 without knocking ? and who is this stranger, or what has he to do 
 here ? — Retire to the gallery, and wait for me there." 
 
 " It's impossible just now to attend your reverence,'' answered 
 Macraw, raising his voice so as to be heard in the next room, being 
 conscious that the priest would not maintain the altercation within 
 hearing of his patron,—" the Earl's bell has rung." 
 
 He had scarce uttered the words, when it was rung again with 
 greater violence than before ; and the ecclesiastic, perceiving further 
 expostulation impossible, lifted his finger at Macraw, with a mena- 
 cing attitude, as he left the apartment. 
 
 " I tell'd ye sae," said the Aberdeen man in a whisper to Edie, 
 and then proceeded to open the door near which they had observed 
 the chaplain stationed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ■ This ring, — 
 
 This little ring, with necromantic force, 
 Has raised the ghost of Pleasure to my fears, 
 Conjured the sense of honour and of love 
 Into such shapes, they fright me from myself. 
 
 The Fatal Marriage, 
 
 The ancient forms of mourning were observed in Glenallan- 
 House, notwithstanding the obduracy with which the members of 
 the family were popularly supposed to refuse to the dead the usual 
 tribute of lamentaJ:ion. It was remarked, that when she received 
 the fatal letter aunouncina; the death of her second, and, as was 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 241 
 
 once believed, her favourite son, the hand of the Countess did not 
 shake, nor her eyelid twinkle, any more than upon perusal of a letter 
 of ordinary business. Heaven only knows whether the suppression 
 of maternal sorrow, which her pride commanded, might not have 
 some effect in hastening her own death. It was at least generally 
 supposed that the apoplectic stroke, which so soon afterwards 
 terminated her existence, was, as it were, the vengeance of out- 
 raged Nature for the restraint to which her feelings had been sub- 
 jected. But although Lady Glenallan forbore the usual external 
 signs of grief, she had caused many of the apartments, amongst 
 others her own and that of the Earl, to be hung with the exterior 
 trappings of woe. 
 
 The Earl of Glenallan was therefore seated in an apartmen^hung 
 with black cloth, which waved in dusky folds along its lofty walls. 
 A screen, also covered with black baize, placed towards the high 
 and narrow window, intercepted much of the broken light which 
 found its way through the stained glass, that represented, with such 
 skill as the fourteenth century possessed, the life and sorrows of the 
 prophet Jeremiah. The table at which the Earl was seated was 
 lighted with two lamps wrought in silver, shedding that unpleasant 
 and doubtful light which arises from the mingling of artificial lustre 
 with that of general daylight. The same table displayed a silver 
 crucifix, and one or two clasped parchment books. A large picture, 
 exquisitely painted by Spagnoletto, represented the martyrdom of 
 St. Stephen, and was the only ornament of the apartment. 
 
 The inhabitant and lord of this disconsolate chamber was a man 
 not past the prime of life, yet so broken down with disease and 
 mental misery, so gaunt and ghastly, that he appeared but a wreck 
 of manhood ; and when he hastily arose and advanced towards his 
 visitor, the exertion seemed almost to overpower his emaciated 
 frame. As they met in the midst of the apartment, the contrast 
 they exhibited was very striking. The hale cheek, firm step, erect 
 stature, and undaunted presence and bearing of the old mendicant, 
 indicated patience and content in the extremity of age, and in the 
 lowest condition to which humanity can sink j while the sunken 
 eye, pallid cheek, and tottering form of the nobleman with whom he 
 was confronted, showed how little wealth, power, and even the ad- 
 vantages of youth, have to do with that which gives repose to 
 the mind, and firmness to the frame. 
 
 The Earl met the old man in the middle of the room, and having 
 commanded his attendant to withdraw into the gallery, and suffer 
 no one to enter the antechamber till he rung the bell, awaited, with 
 hurried yet fearful impatience, until he heard first the door of his 
 apartment, and then that of the antechamber, shut and fastened by 
 
 Q 
 
242 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 the spring-bolt. When he was satisfied with this security against' 
 being overheard, Lord Glenallan came close up to the mendicant, 
 whom he probably mistook for some person of a religious order in 
 disguise, and said, in a hasty yet faltering tone, " In the name of all 
 our religion holds most holy, tell me, reverend father, what am I to 
 expect from a communication opened by a token connected with 
 such horrible recollections ? " 
 
 The old man, appalled by a manner so different from what he had 
 expected from the proud and powerful nobleman, was at a loss how 
 to answer, and in what manner to undeceive him. — " Tell me," con- 
 tinued the Earl, in a tone of increasing trepidation and agony — 
 " tell me, do you come to say that all that has been done to expiate 
 guilt so horrible, has been too little and too trivial for the offence, 
 and to point out new and more efficacious modes of severe penance? 
 — I will not blench from it, father — let me suffer the pains of my 
 crime here in the body, rather than hereafter in the spirit ! " 
 
 Edie had now recollection enough to perceive, that if he did not 
 interrupt the frankness of Lord Glenallan's admissions, he was 
 likely to become the confidant of more than might be safe for him 
 to know. He therefore uttered with a hasty and trembling voice — 
 " Your lordship's honour is mistaken — I am not of your persuasion, 
 nor a clergyman, but, with all reverence, only puir Edie Ochiltree, 
 the king's bedesman and your honour's." 
 
 This explanation he accompanied by a profound bow after his 
 manner, and then drawing himself up erect, rested his arm on his 
 staff, threw back his long white hair, and fixed his eyes upon the 
 Earl, as he waited for an answer. 
 
 "And you are not, then," said Lord Glenallan, after a pause of 
 surprise, " you are not then a Catholic priest ? " 
 
 " God forbid ! " said Edie, forgetting in his confusion to whom 
 he was speaking ; " I am only the king's bedesman and your 
 honour's, as I said before." 
 
 The Earl turned hastily away, and paced the room twice or 
 thrice, as if to recover the effects of his mistake, and then, coming 
 close up to the mendicant, he demanded, in a stern and command- 
 ing tone, what he meant by intruding himself on his privacy, and 
 from whence he had got the ring which he had thought proper to 
 send him. Edie, a man of much spirit, was less daunted at this 
 mode of interrogation thaii he had been confused by the tone of 
 confidence in which the Earl had opened their conversation. To 
 the reiterated question from whom he had obtained the ring, he 
 answered composedly, " From one who was better known to the 
 Earl than to him." 
 
 " Better known to me, fellow ? " said Lord Glenallan : "what is 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. *43 
 
 your meaning? Explain yourself instantly, or you shall experi- 
 ence the consequence of breaking in upon the hours of family 
 distress." 
 
 " It was aulti Elspeth Mucklebackit that sent me here/' said the 
 beggar, " in order to say " 
 
 " You dote, old man ! " said the Earl ; " I never heard the name 
 ■ — but this dreadful token reminds me " 
 
 " I mind now, my lord," said Ochiltree, " she tauld me your lord- 
 ship would be mair familiar wi' her, if I ca'd her Elspeth o' the 
 Craigburnfoot — She had that name when she lived on your honour's 
 land, that is, your honour's worshipful mother's that was then — 
 Grace be wi' her ! " 
 
 " Ay," said the appalled nobleman, as his countenance sunk, and 
 his cheek assumed a hue yet more cadaverous ; " that name is in- 
 deed written in the most tragic page of a deplorable history — But 
 what can she desire of me ? Is she dead or living ? " 
 
 " Living, my lord ; and entreats to see your lordship before she 
 dies, for she has something to communicate that hangs upon her 
 very soul, and she says she canna flit in peace until she sees 
 you.'' 
 
 " Not until she sees me ! — what can that mean — but she is doting 
 with age and infirmity — I tell thee, friend, I called at her cottage 
 myself, not a twelvemonth since, from a report that she was in 
 distress, and she did not even know my face or voice." 
 
 " If your honour wad permit me," said Edie,'to whom the length 
 of the conference restored a part of his professional audacity and 
 native talkativeness — " if your honour wad but permit me, I wad 
 say, under correction of your lordship's better judgment, that auld 
 Elspeth's like some of the ancient ruined strengths and castles that 
 ane sees amang the hills. There are mony parts of her mind that 
 appear, as I may say, laid waste and decayed, but then there's 
 parts that look the steever, and the stronger, and the grander, 
 because they are rising just like to. fragments amang the ruins o' 
 the rest — She's an awful woman." 
 
 " She always was so," said the Earl, almost unconsciously echoing 
 the observation of the mendicant ; " she always was different from 
 other women — likest perhaps to her who is now no more, in her 
 temper and turn of mind. — She wishes to see me, then ? " 
 
 "Before she dies," said Edie, "she earnestly entreats that 
 pleasure." 
 
 " It will be a pleasure to neither of us," said the Earl sternly, 
 " yet she shall be gratified — She lives, I think, on the sea-shore to 
 the southward of Fairport ? " 
 
 " Just between Monkbarns and Knockwimiock Castle, but nearer 
 
 Q 3 
 
244 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 to Monkbarns. Your lordship's honour will ken the laird and Sir 
 Arthur, doubtless ? " 
 
 A stare, as if he did not comprehend the question, was Lord 
 Glenallan's answer. Edie saw his mind was elsewhere, and did 
 not venture to repeat a query which was so little germain to the 
 matter. 
 
 " Are you a Catholic, old man ? " demanded the Earl. 
 
 " No, my lord," said Ochiltree stoutly ; for the remembrance of 
 the unequal division of the dole rose in his mind at the moment ; 
 " I thank Heaven I am a good Protestant." 
 
 " He who can conscientiously call himself good, has indeed reason 
 to thank Heaven, be his form of Christianity what it will — But who 
 is he that shall dare to do so ! " 
 
 " Not I," said Edie ; " I trust to beware of the sin of pre- 
 sumption." 
 
 " What was your trade in your youth ? " continued the Earl. 
 
 " A soldier, my lord ; and mony a sair day's kemping I've seen. 
 I was to have been made a sergeant, but" 
 
 " A soldier ! then you have slain and burnt, and sacked and 
 spoiled?" 
 
 " I winna say," replied Edie, " that I have been better than my 
 neighbours ; — it's a rough trade — war's sweet to them that never 
 tried it." 
 
 " And you are now old and miserable, asking from precarious 
 charity the food which in your youth you tore from the hand of the 
 poor peasant ? " 
 
 " I am a beggar, it is true, my lord ; but I am nae just sae miser- 
 able neither — for my sins, I hae had grace to repent of them, if I 
 might say sae, and to lay them where they may be better borne 
 than by me — and for my food, naebody grudges an auld man a bit 
 and a drink — Sae I live as I can, and am contented to die when I 
 am ca'd upon." 
 
 " And thus, then, with little to look back upon that is pleasant or 
 praiseworthy in your past life, with less to look forward to on this 
 side of eternity, you are contented to drag out the rest of your 
 existence i" — Go, begone ! and in your age and poverty and weari- 
 ness, never envy the lord of such a mansion as this, either in 
 his sleeping or waking moments — Here is something for 
 thee." 
 
 The Earl put into the old man's hand five or six guineas. Edie 
 would pei-haps have stated his scruples, as upon other occasions, to 
 the amount of the benefaction, but the tone of Lord GlenaUan was 
 too absolute to admit of either answer or dispute. The Earl then 
 called his servant — " See this old man safe from the castle— let no 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 245 
 
 one ask him any questions — and you, friend, begone, and forget the 
 road that leads to my house." 
 
 " That would be difficult for me," said Edie, looking at the gold 
 which he still held in his hand, " that would be e'en difficult, since 
 your honour has gien me such gude cause to remember it." 
 
 Lord Glenallan stared, as hardly comprehending the old man's 
 boldness in daring to bandy words with him, and, with his hand, 
 made him another signal of departure, which the mendicant 
 instantly obeyed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 For he was one in all their idle sport. 
 And, like a monarch, ruled their little court ; 
 The pliant bow he form'd, the flying ball, 
 The bat, the wicket, were his labours all. 
 
 Crabbe's Village. 
 
 Francis Macraw, agreeably to the commands of his master, 
 attended the mendicant, in order to see him fairly out of the estate, 
 without permitting him to have conversation, or intercourse, with 
 any of the Earl's dependents or domestics. But, judiciously con- 
 sidering that the restriction did not extend to himself, who was the 
 person intrusted with the convoy, he used every measure in his 
 power to extort from Edie the nature of his confidential and secret 
 interview with Lord Glenallan. But Edie had been in his time 
 accustomed to cross-examination, and easily evaded those of his 
 quondam comrade. " The secrets of grit folk," said Ochiltree, 
 within himself, " are just like the wild beasts that are shut up in 
 cages. Keep them hard and fast snecked up^ and it's a' very weel 
 or better — but anes let them out, they will turn and rend you. I 
 mind how ill Dugald Gunn cam aff for letting loose his tongue 
 about the Major's leddy and Captain Bandilier." 
 
 Francis was therefore foiled in his assaults upon the fidelity of 
 the mendicant^ and, like an indifferent chess-player, became, at 
 every unsuccessful movement, more liable to the counter-checks of 
 his opponent. 
 
 " Sae ye uphauld ye had nae particulars to say to my lord but 
 about your ain matters ? " 
 
 "Ay, and about the wee bits o' things I had brought frae 
 abroad," said Edie. " I ken'd you papist folk are unco set on the 
 relics that are fetched frae far— kirks and sae forth." 
 
 " Troth, my Lord maun be turned feel outright," said the do- 
 
246 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 mestic, " an he puts himsell into sic a curfuffle for onything ye 
 could bring him, Edie." 
 
 " I doubtna ye may say true in the main, neighbour," repHed the 
 beggar ; " but maybe he's had some hard play in his younger days, 
 Francie, and that whiles unsettles folk sair." 
 
 " Troth, Edie, and ye may say that — and since it's like ye'll ne'er 
 come back to the estate, or, if ye dee, that ye'll no find me there, I'se 
 e'en tell you he had a heart in his young time sae wrecked and 
 rent, that it's a wonder it hasna broken outright lang afore this day." 
 
 " Ay, say ye sae? " said Ochiltree ; " that maun hae been about a 
 woman, I reckon !" 
 
 "Troth, and ye hae guessed it," said Francie— "jeest a cusin o' 
 his nain — Miss Eveline Neville, as they suld hae ca'd her; — there 
 was a sough in the country about it, but it was hushed up, as the 
 grandees were concerned ; — it's mair .than twenty years syne — ay, 
 it will be three-and-twenty." 
 
 " Ay, I was in America then," said the mendicant, " and no in the 
 way to hear the country clashes." 
 
 " There was little clash about it, man," replied Macraw ; " he 
 liked this young leddy, and suld hae married her, but his mother 
 fund it out, and then the deil gaed o'er Jock Wabster. At last, the 
 peer lass "clodded hersell o'er the scaur at the Craigburnfoot into 
 the sea,- and there was an end o't." 
 
 " An end o't wi' the puir leddy," said the mendicant, " but, as I 
 rackon, nae end o't wi' the yeri." 
 
 " Nae end o't till his life maks an end," answ;ered the Aber- 
 donian. 
 
 " But what for did the auld Countess forbid the marriage ? " con- 
 tinued the persevering querist. 
 
 " Fat for ! — she maybe didna weel ken for fat hersell, for she 
 gar^d a' bow to her bidding, right or wrang.' — But it was kend the 
 young leddy was inclined to some o' the heresies of the country — 
 mair by token, she was sib to him nearer than our Church's rule 
 admits of — Sae the leddy was driven to the desperate act, and the 
 yerl has never since held his head up like a man." 
 
 " Weel away ! " replied Ochiltree ; " it's e'en queer I ne'er heard 
 this tale afore." 
 
 " It's e'en queer that ye hear it now, for deil ane o' the servants 
 durst hae spoken o't had the old Countess been living — Eh, man, 
 Edie ! but she was a trimmer — it wad hae taen a skeely man to hae 
 squared wi' her ! — But she's in her grave, and we may loose our 
 tongues a bit fan we meet a friend — But fare ye weel, Edie, I maun 
 be back to the evening service — An ye come to Inverurie maybe 
 sax months awa, dinna forget to ask after Francie Macraw." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 247 
 
 What one kindly pressed, the other as firmly promised ; and the 
 friends having thus parted, with every testimony of mutual regard, 
 the domestic of Lord Glenallan took his road back to the seat of his 
 master, leaving Ochiltree to trace onward his habitual pilgrimage. 
 
 It was a fine summer evening, and the world, that is, the little 
 circle which was all in all to the individual by whom it was trodden, 
 lay before Edie Ochiltree, for the choosing of his night's quarters. 
 When he had passed the less hospitable domains of Glenallan, he 
 had in his option so many places of refuge for the evening, that he 
 was nice, and even fastidious in the choice. Ailie Sim's public was 
 on the road-side about a mile before him ; but there would be a 
 parcel of young fellows there on the Saturday night, and that was a 
 bar to civil conversation. Other " gudemen and gudewives," as the 
 farmers and their dames are termed in Scotland, successively pre- 
 sented themselves to his imagination. But one was deaf, and could 
 not hear him ; another toothless, and could not make him hear ; 
 a third had a cross temper ; and a fourth an ill-natured house-dog. 
 At Monkbarns or Knockwinnock he was sure of a favourable and 
 hospitable reception ; but they lay too distant tc be conveniently 
 reached that night. 
 
 " I dinna ken how it is," said the old man, " but I am nicer about 
 my quarters this nicht than ever I mind having been in my life. I 
 think, having seen a' the braws yonder, and finding out ane may be 
 happier without them, has made me proud o' my ain lot — but I 
 wuss it bode me gude, for pride goeth before destruction. At ony 
 rate, the warst bam e'er man lay in wad be a pleasanter abode than 
 Glenallan-House, wi' a' the pictures and black velvet, and silver 
 bonny- wawlies belanging to it. — Sae, I'll e'en settle at ance, and put 
 in for AUe Sim's," 
 
 As the old man descended the hill above the little hamlet to 
 which he was bending his course, the setting sun had relieved its in- 
 mates from their labour, and the young men, availing themselves of 
 the fine evening, were engaged in the sport of long-bowls on a patch 
 of common, while the women and elders looked on. The shout, 
 the laugh, the exclamations of winners and losers, came in blended 
 chorus up the path which Ochiltree was descending, and awakened 
 in his recollection the days when he himself had been a keen com- 
 petitor, and frequently victor, in games of strength and agility. 
 These remembrances seldom fail to excite a sigh, even when the 
 evening of life is cheered by brighter prospects than those of our poor 
 mendicant. " At that time of day," was his natural reflection, " I 
 would have thought as little about ony auld palmering body that 
 was coming down the edge of Kinblythemont, as ony o' thae 
 stalwart young chiels does e'enow about auld Edie Ochiltree." 
 
?48 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 He was, however, presently cheered, by finding that more import- 
 ance was attached to his arrival than his modesty had anticipated. 
 A disputed cast had occurred between the bands of players, and as 
 the gauger favoured the one party, and the schoolmaster the other, 
 the matter might be said to ^be taken up by the higher powers. 
 The miller and smith, also, had espoused different sides, and, con- 
 sidering the vivacity of two such disputants, there was reason to 
 doubt whether the strife might be amicably terminated. But the 
 first person who caught a sight of the mendicant exclaimed, " Ah ! 
 here comes auld Edie, that kens the rules of a' country games better 
 than ony man that ever drave a bowl, or threw an axle-tree, or 
 putted a stane either; — let's hae nae quarrelling, callants — we'll 
 stand by auld Edie's judgment." 
 
 Edie was accordingly welcomed, and installed as umpire, with a 
 general shout of gratulation. With all the modesty of a bishop to 
 whom the mitre is proffered, or of a new Speaker called to the 
 chair, the old man declined the high trust and responsibility with 
 which it was proposed to invest him, and, in requital for his self- 
 denial and humility, had the pleasure of receiving the reiterated 
 assurances of young, old, and middle-aged, that he was simply the 
 best qualified person for the office of arbiter " in the haill country- 
 side." Thus encouraged, he proceeded gravely to the execution of 
 his duty, and, strictly forbidding all aggravating expressions on 
 either side, he heard the smith and gauger on one side, the miller 
 and schoolmaster on the other, as junior and senior counsel. Edie's 
 mind, however, was fully made up on the subject before the plead- 
 ing began ; like that of many a judge, who must nevertheless go 
 through all the forms, and endure, in its full extent, thp eloquence 
 and argumentation of the Bar. For when all had been said on 
 both sides, and much of it said over oftener than once, our senior, 
 being well and ripely advised, pronounced the moderate and heal- 
 ing judgment, that the disputed cast was a drawn one, and should 
 therefore count to/ neither party. This judicious decision restored 
 concord to the field of players ; they began anew to arrange their 
 match and their bets, with the clamorous mirth usual on such 
 occasions of village sport, and the more eager were already stripping 
 their jackets, and committing them, with their coloured handker- 
 chiefs, to the care of wives, sisters, and mistresses. But their mirth 
 was singularly interrupted. 
 
 On the outside of the group of players began to arise sounds of a 
 description very different from those of sport — that sort of sup- 
 pressed sigh and exclamation, with which the first news of calamity 
 is received by the hearers, began to be heard indistinctly. A buzz 
 went about among the women of " Eh, sirs ! sac young and sa£ 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. ."49 
 
 suddenly summoned ! " — It then extended itself among the men, 
 and silenced the sounds of sportive mirth. All understood at once 
 that some disaster had happened in the country, and each inquired 
 the cause at his neighbour, who knew as little as the querist. At 
 length the rumour reached, in a distinct shape, the ears of Edie 
 Ochiltree, who was in the very centre of the assembly. The boat 
 of Mucklebackit, the fisherman whom we have so often mentioned, 
 had been swamped at sea, and four men had perished, it was 
 affirmed, including Mucklebackit and his son. Rumour had in this, 
 however, as in other cases, gone beyond the truth. The boat had 
 indeed been overset ; but Stephen, or, as he was called, Steenie 
 Mucklebackit, was the only man who had been drowned. Although 
 the place of his residence and his mode of life removed the young 
 man from the society of the country folks, yet they failed not to 
 pause in their rustic mirth to pay that tribute to sudden calamity, 
 which it seldom fails to receive in cases of infrequent occurrence. 
 To Ochiltree, in particular, the news came like a knell, the rather 
 that he had so lately engaged this young man's assistance in an 
 affair of sportive mischief ; and though neither loss nor injury was 
 designed to the German a.dept, yet the work was not precisely one 
 in which the latter hours of life ought to be occupied. 
 
 Misfortunes never come alone. While Ochiltree, pensively lean- 
 ing upon his staff, added his regrets to those of the hamlet which 
 bewailed the young man's sudden death, ■ and internally blamed 
 himself for the transaction in which he had so lately engaged him, 
 the old man's collar was seized by a peace-officer, who displayed 
 his baton in his right hand, and exclaimed, " In the king's name." 
 
 The gauger and schoolmaster united their rhetoric, to prove to 
 the constable and his assistant that he had no right to arrest the 
 king's bedesman as a vagrant ; and the mute eloquence of the miller 
 and smith, which was vested in their clenched fists, was prepared 
 to give highland bail for their arbiter ; his blue gown, they said, was 
 his warrant for travelling the country. 
 
 " But his blue gown," answered the officer, " is nae protection for 
 assault, robbery, and murder ; and my warrant is against him for 
 these crimes." 
 
 "Murder !" said Edie, "murder ! wha did I e'er murder?" 
 
 "Mr. German Doustercivil, the agent at Glen-Withershins 
 mining-works." 
 
 " Murder Dustersnivel .? — hout, he's living, and life-like, man." 
 
 " Nae thanks to you if he be ; he had a sair struggle for his life, 
 if a' be true he tells, and ye maun answer for't at the bidding of 
 the law." 
 
 The defenders of the mendicant shrunk back at hearing the 
 
2SO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 atrocity of the charges against him, but more than one kind hand 
 thrust meat and bread and pence upon Edie, to maintain him in 
 the prison, to which the officers were about to conduct him. 
 
 " Thanks to ye ! God bless ye a', bairns ! — I've gotten out o' 
 mony a snare when I was waur deserving o' dehverance — I shall 
 escape like a bird from the fowler. Play out your play, and never 
 mind me — I am mair grieved for the puir lad that's gane, than for 
 aught they can do to me." 
 
 Accordingly, the unresisting prisoner was led off, while he me- 
 chanically accepted and stored in his wallets the alms which 
 poured in on every hand, and ere he left the hamlet, was as deep- 
 laden as a government victualler. The labour of bearing this 
 accumulating burden was, however, abridged, by the officer pro- 
 curing a cart and horse to convey the old man to a magistrate, in 
 order to his examination and committal. 
 
 The disaster of Steenie, and the arrest of Edie, put a stop to the 
 sports of the village, the pensive inhabitants of which began to 
 speculate upon the vicissitudes of human affairs, which had so sud- 
 denly consigned one of their comrades to the grave, and placed 
 their master of the revels in some danger of being hanged. The 
 character of Dousterswivel being pretty generally known, which 
 was in his case equivalent to being pretty generally detested, there 
 were many speculations upon the probability of the accusation 
 being malicious. But all agreed, that if Edie Ochiltree behoved 
 in all events to suffer upon this occasion, it was a great pity he had 
 not better merited his fate by killing Dousterswivel outright. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Who is he ? — One that for the lack of land 
 
 Shall fight upon the water — he hath challenged 
 
 Formerly the grand whale ; and by his titles 
 
 Of Leviathan, Behemoth, and so forth. 
 
 He tilted with a sword-fish — Marry, sir, 
 
 Th' aquatic had the best — the argument 
 
 Still galls our champion's breech. Old Play. 
 
 "And the poor young fellow, Steenie Mucklebackit, is to be 
 buried this morning," said our old friend the Antiquary, as he ex- 
 changed his quilted night-gown for an old-fashioned black coat in 
 lieu of the snuff-coloured vestment which he ordinarily wore, " and, 
 I presume,it is expected that I should attend the funeral ? " 
 
 " Ou, ay," answered the faithful Caxon, officiously brushing the 
 white threads and specks from his patron's habit ; " the body, God 
 help us ! was sae broken against the rocks that they're fain to hurry 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 251 
 
 the burial. The sea's a kittle cast, as I tell my daughter, puir 
 thing, when I want her to get up her spirits — the sea, says I, Jenny, 
 is as uncertain a calling" 
 
 " As the calling of an old periwig-maker, that's robbed of his 
 business by crops and the powder-tax. Caxon, thy topics of con- 
 solation are as ill chosen as they are foreign to the present pur- 
 posed Quid mihi cum fcemina f What have I to do with thy 
 womankind, who have enough and to spare of mine own ? — I pray 
 of you again, am I expected by these poor people to attend the 
 funeral of their son?" 
 
 " Ou, doubtless, your honour is expected," answered Caxon ; 
 " weel I wot ye are expected. Ye ken, in -this country ilka gentle- 
 man is wussed to be sae civil as to see the corpse aff his grounds. 
 — Ye needna gang higher than the loan-head — it's no expected your 
 honour suld leave the land — it's just a Kelso convoy, a step and a 
 half ower the door-stane." 
 
 " A Kelso convoy ! " echoed the inquisitive Antiquary ; " and 
 why a Kelso convoy more than any other ? " 
 
 " Dear sir," answered Caxon, " how should I ken ? it's just a by- 
 word." 
 
 " Caxon," answered Oldbuck, " thou art a mere periwig-maker — 
 Had I asked Ochiltree the question, he would have had a legend 
 ready made to my hand." 
 
 " My business," replied Caxon, with more animation than he 
 commonly displayed, " is with the outside of your honour's head, 
 as ye are accustomed to say." 
 
 " True, Caxon, true ; and it is no i-eproach to a thatcher that he 
 is not an upholsterer." 
 
 He then took out his memorandum-book and wrote down " Kelso 
 convoy — said to be a step and a half ower the threshold. Authority 
 — Caxon. — Quare — Whence derived ? Mem. To write to Dr. Gray- 
 steel upon the subject." 
 
 Having made this entry, he resumed — "And truly, as to this 
 custom of the landlord attending the body of the peasant, I approve 
 it, Caxon. It comes from ancient times, and was founded deep in 
 the notions of mutual aid and dependence between the lord and 
 cultivator of the soil. And herein I must say, the feudal system 
 (as also in its courtesy towards womankind, in which it exceeded) 
 — herein I say, the feudal usages mitigated and softened the stern- 
 ness of classical times. No man, Caxon, ever heard of a Spartan 
 attending the funeral of a Helot — yet I dare be sworn that John of 
 the Girnell — ye have heard of him, Caxon ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," answered Caxon ; " naebody can hae been lang in 
 your honour's company without hearing of that gentleman." 
 
2S2 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " Well," continued the Antiquary, " I would bet a trifle there was 
 not a kolb kerl, or bondsman, or peasant, ascriptus gleba, died 
 upon the monks' territories down here, but John of the Girnell saw 
 them fairly and decently interred." 
 
 "Ay, but if it like your honour, they say he had mair to do 
 wi' the births than the burials. Ha I ha ! ha ! " with a gleeful 
 chuckle. 
 
 " Good, Caxon ! very good ! why, you shine this morning.'' 
 
 " And besides," adiied Caxon, slily, encouraged by his patron's 
 approbation, " they say too, that the Catholic priests in thae times 
 gat something for ganging about to burials." 
 
 " Right, Caxon ! right as my glove ! — by-the-by, I fancy that 
 phrase comes from the custom of pledging a glove as the signal of 
 irrefragable faith — right, I say, as my glove, Caxon — but we of the 
 Protestant ascendency have the more merit in doing that duty for 
 nothing, which cost money in the reign of that empress of super- 
 stition, whom Spenser, Caxon, terms, in his allegorical phrase, 
 • The daughter of that woman blind. 
 
 Abessa, daughter of Corecca slow- 
 
 But why talk I of these things to thee ? — my poor Lovel has spoiled 
 me, and taught me to speak aloud when it is much the same as 
 speaking to myself — where's my nephew. Hector M'Intyre .^ " 
 
 " He's in the parlour, sir, wi' the leddies." 
 
 " Very well," said the Antiquary, " I will betake me thither." 
 
 " Now, Monkbarns," said his sister, on his entering the parlour, 
 " ye maunna be angry." 
 
 " My dear uncle ! " began Miss M'Intyre. 
 
 " What's the meaning of all this ? " said Oldbuck, in alarm of 
 some impending bad news, and arguing upon the supplicating tone 
 of the ladies, as a fortress apprehends an attack from the very first 
 flourish of the trumpet which announces the summons — "what's all 
 this ? — what do you bespeak my patience for ? " 
 
 " No particular matter, I should hope, sir," said Hector, who, 
 with his arm in a sling, was seated at the breakfast-table ; " how- 
 ever, whatever it may amount to I am answerable for it, as I am 
 for much more trouble that I have occasioned, and for which 
 I have little more than thanks to offer." 
 
 " No, no ! heartily welcome, heartily welcome — only let it be a 
 warning to you," said the Antiquary, " against your fits of anger, 
 which is a short madness — Ira furor 6revis— but what is this new 
 disaster ? " 
 
 " My dog, sir, has unfortunately thrown down '' 
 
 " If it please Heaven, not the lachrymatory from Clochnaben ! " 
 interjected Oldbuck. ' , 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. =53 
 
 " Indeed, uncle," said the young lady, " I am afraid — it was that 
 which stood upon the sideboard — the poor thing only meant to eat 
 the pat of fresh bratter." 
 
 " In which she has fully succeeded, I presume, for I see that on 
 the table is salted. But that is nothing — my lachrymatory, the 
 main pillar of my theory on which I rested to show, in despite of 
 the ignorant obstinacy of Mac-Cribb, that the Romans had passed 
 the defiles of these mountains, and left behind them traces of their 
 arts and arms, is gone — annihilated— reduced to such fragments as 
 might be the shreds of a broken — flowerpot ! 
 
 ■ Hector, I love thee. 
 
 But never more be officer of mine." 
 
 " Why, really, sir, I am afraid I should make a bad figure in a 
 regiment of your raising." 
 
 " At least, Hector, I would have you dispatch your camp train, 
 and travel expeditus or relictis impedimentis. You cannot conceive 
 how I am annoyed by this beast — She commits burglary, I believe, 
 for I heard her charged with breaking into the kitchen after all the 
 doors were locked, and eating up a shoulder of mutton." — (Our 
 readers, if they chance to remember Jenny Rintherout's precaution 
 of leaving the door open when she went down to the fisher's cottage, 
 will probably acquit fjoor Juno of that aggravation of guilt which 
 the lawyers call a claustmm fregit, and which makes the distinction 
 between burglary and privately stealing.) 
 
 " I am truly sorry, sir," said Hector, " that Juno has committed 
 so much disorder ; but Jack Muirhead, the breaker, was never able 
 to bring her under command. She has more travel than any bitch 
 I ever knew, but "- • 
 
 " Then, Hector, I wish the bitch would travel herself out of my 
 grounds." 
 
 " We will both of us retreat to-morrow, or to-day, but I would 
 not willingly part from my mother's brother in unkindness about a 
 paltry pipkin." 
 
 " O brother ! brother ! " ejaculated Miss M'Intyre, in utter de- 
 spair at this vituperative epithet. 
 
 " Why, what would you have me call it ? " continued Hector ; 
 "it was just such a thing as they use in Egypt to cool wine, or 
 sherbet, or water ; — I brought home a pair of them — I might have 
 brought home twenty." 
 
 " What ! " said Oldbuck, " shaped such as that your dog threw 
 down ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, much such a sort of earthen jar as that which was on 
 the sideboard. They are in my lodgings at Fairport ; we brought 
 
254 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 a parcel of tbem to cool our wine on the passage — they answer 
 wonderfully well. If I could think they would in any degree 
 repay your loss, or rather that they could afford you pleasure, I am 
 sure I should be much honoured by your accepting them." 
 
 " Indeed, my dear boy, I should be highly gratified by possessing 
 them. To trace the connexion of nations by their usages, and the 
 similarity of the implements which they employ, has been long my 
 favourite study. Everything that can illustrate such connexions is 
 most valuable to me." 
 
 " Well, sir, I shall be much gratified by your acceptance of them, 
 and a few trifles of the same kind. — And now, am I to hope you 
 have foi'given me ? " 
 
 " O, my dear boy, you are only thoughtless and foolish." 
 
 " But Juno — she is only thoughtless too, I assure you — ^the 
 breaker tells me she has no vice or stubbornness." 
 
 " Well, I grant Juno also a free pardon — conditioned, that you 
 will imitate her in avoiding vice and stubbornness, and that hence- 
 forward she banish herself forth of Monkbarns' parlour." 
 
 " Then, uncle," said the soldier, " I should have been very sorry 
 and ashamed to propose to you anything in the way of expiation of 
 my own sins, or those of my follower, that I thought worth your 
 acceptance ; but now, as all is forgiven, will you permit the 
 orphan-nephew, to whom you have been a father, to offer you a 
 trifle, which I have been assured is reaUy curious, and which only 
 the cross accident of my wound has prevented my delivering to 
 you before ? I got it from a French Savant, to whom I rendered 
 some service after the Alexandria affair." 
 
 The captain put a small ring-case into the Antiquary's hands, 
 which, when opened, was found to contain an antique ring of massive 
 gold, with a cameo, most beautifully executed, bearing a head of 
 Cleopatra. The Antiquary broke forth into unrepressed ecstasy, 
 shook his nephew cordially by the hand, thanked him an hundred 
 times, and showed the ring to his sister and niece, the latter of 
 whom had the tact to give it sufficient admiration ; but Miss 
 Griselda (though she had the same affection for her nephew) had 
 not address enough to follow the lead. 
 
 " It's a bonny thing," she said, " Monkbarns, and, I dare say, a 
 valuable — but it's out o' my way — ^ye ken I am nae judge o' sic 
 matters." 
 
 " There spoke all Fairport in one voice ! " exclaimed Oldbuck ; 
 " it is the very spirit of the borough has infected us aU ; I think I 
 have smeUed the smoke these two days, that the wind has stuck, 
 like a remora, in the north-east — and its prejudices fly farther than 
 its vapours. Believe me, my dear Hector, were I to walk up the 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 255 
 
 High-street of Fairport, displaying this inestimable gem in the 
 eyes of each one I met, no human creature, from the provost to the 
 town-crier, would stop to ask me its history. But if I carried a 
 bale of linen cloth under my arm, I could not penetrate to the 
 Horsemarket ere I should be overwhelmed with queries about its 
 precise texture and price. O, one might parody their brutal 
 ignorance in the words of Gray : 
 
 ' Weave the harp and weave the woof. 
 The winding-sheet of wit and sense. 
 Dull garment of defensive proof 
 
 'Gainst all that doth not gather pence.' " 
 
 The most remarkable proof of this peace-offering being quite 
 acceptable was, that while the Antiquary was in full declamation, 
 Juno, who held him in awe, according to the remarkable instinct 
 by which dogs instantly discover those who like or dislike them, 
 had peeped several times into the room, and encountering nothing 
 very forbidding in his aspect, had at length presumed to introduce 
 her full person ; and finally, becoming bold by impunity, she actu- 
 ally ate up Mr. Oldbuck's toast, as, looking first at one then at 
 another of his audience, he repeated, with self-complacency, 
 
 " ' Weave the warp and weave the woof.' 
 
 You remember the passage in the Fatal Sisters, which, by the 
 way, is not so fine as in the original — But, hey-day ! my toast has 
 vanished! — I see which way — Ah, thou type of womankind! no 
 wonder they take offence at thy generic appellation ! " — (So saying, 
 he shook his fist at Juno, who scoured out of the parlour.) — " How- 
 ever, as Jupiter, according to Homer, could not rule Juno in 
 heaven, and as Jack Muirhead, according to Hector M'Intyre, has 
 been equally unsuccessful on earth, I suppose she must have her 
 own wayi" And this mild censure the brother arid sister justly ac- 
 counted a. full pardon for Juno's offences, and sat down well 
 pleased to the morning meal. 
 
 When breakfast was over, the Antiquary proposed to his nephew 
 to go down with him to attend the funeral. The soldier pleaded 
 the want of a mourning habit. 
 
 " O, that does not signify — your presence is all that is requisite. 
 I assure you, you will see something that will entertain — no, that's 
 an improper phrase— but that will interest you, from the resem- 
 blances which I will point Out betwixt popular customs on such oc- 
 casions and those of the ancients." 
 
 " Heaven forgive me ! " thought M'Intyre ; " I shall certainly 
 misbehave, and lose all the credit I have so lately and accidentally 
 gained," 
 
2S0 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 When they set out, schooled as he was by the warning and en- 
 treating looks of his sister, the soldier made his resolution strong 
 to give no offence by evincing inattention or impatience. But our 
 best resolutions are frail, when opposed to our predominant incli- 
 nations. Our Antiquary, to leave nothing unexplained, had com- 
 nenced with the funeral rites of the ancient Scandinavians, when 
 his nephew interrupted him, in a discussion upon the " age of 
 hills," to remark that a large sea-gull, which flitted around them, 
 had come twice within shot. This error being acknowledged and 
 pardoned, Oldbuck resumed his disquisition. 
 
 " These are circumstances you ought to attend to and be familiar 
 with, my dear Hector ; for, in the strange contingencies of the pre- 
 sent war which agitates every corner of Europe, there is no know- 
 ing where you may be called upon to serve. If in Norway, for 
 example, or Denmark, or any part of the ancient Scania, or Scan- 
 dinavia, as we term it, what could be more convenient than to have 
 at your fingers' ends the history and antiquities of that ancient 
 country, the officina gentium, the mother of modern Europe, the 
 nursery of those heroes, 
 
 Stern to inflict, and stubborn to endure, 
 
 Who smiled in death ? 
 
 How animating, for example, at the conclusion of a weary march, 
 to find yourself in the vicinity of a Runic monument, and discover 
 that you had pitched your tent beside the tomb of a hero ! " 
 
 " I am afraid, sir, our mess would be better supplied if it chanced 
 to be in the neighbourhood of a good poultry-yard." 
 
 '' Alas, that you should say so ! — No wonder the days of Cressy 
 and Agincourt are no more, when respect for ancient valour has 
 died away in the breasts of the British soldiery." 
 
 " By no means, sir — ^by no manner of means. I dare say that 
 Edward and Henry, and the rest of these heroes, thought of their 
 dinner, however, before they thought of examining an old tomb- ■ 
 stone. But I assure you, we are by no means insensible to the 
 memory of our fathers' fame ; I used often of an evening to get old 
 Rory M'Alpin to sing us songs out of Ossian about the battles of 
 Fingal and Lamon Mor, and Magnus and the Spirit of Muirartach." 
 
 " And did you believe," asked the aroused Antiquary, " did you 
 absolutely believe that stuff of Macpherson's to be really ancient, 
 you simple boy ? " 
 
 " Believe it, sir ? — ^how could I but believe it, when I have heard 
 the songs sung from my infancy ? " 
 
 " But not the same as Macpherson's English Ossian — you're not 
 absurd enough to say that, I hope?"- said the Antiquary, his brow 
 darkening with wrath. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 357 
 
 But Hector stoutly abode the storm ; like many a sturdy Celt, he 
 imagined the honour of his country and native language connected 
 with the authenticity of these popular poems, and would have fought 
 knee-deep, or forfeited life and land, rather than have given up a 
 line of them. He therefore undauntedly maintained, that Rory 
 M'Alpin could repeat the whole book from one end to another ; and 
 it was only upon cross-examination that he explained an assertioa 
 so general, by adding, " At least, if he was allowed whisky enough, 
 he could repeat as long as anybody would hearken to him." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said the Antiquaiy ; '' and that, I suppose, was not 
 very long." 
 
 " Why, we had our duty, sir, to attend to, and could not sit listen- 
 ing all night to a piper." 
 
 " But do you recollect, now," said Oldbuck, settinghis teeth firmly 
 together, and speaking without opening them, which was his custom 
 when contradicted — " Do you recollect, now, any of these verses you 
 thought so beautiful and interesting — being a capital judge, no 
 doubt, of such things ? " 
 
 " I don't pretend to much skill, uncle ; but it's not very reason- 
 able to be angry with me for admiring the antiquities of my own 
 country more than those of the Harolds, Harfagers, and Hacos you 
 are so fond of." 
 
 " Why, these, sir — these mighty and unconquered Goths — were 
 your ancestors ! The bare-breeched Celts whom they subdued, and 
 suffered only to exist like a fearful people, in the crevices of the 
 rocks, were but their Mancipia and Serfs ! " 
 
 Hector's brow now grew red in his turn. > " Sir," he said, " I don't 
 understand the meaning of Mancipia and Serfs, but I conceive that 
 such names are very improperly applied to Scotch Highlanders. 
 No man but my mother's brother dared to have used such language 
 in my presence ; and I pray you will observe, that I consider it as 
 neither hospitable, handsome, kind, nor generous usage towards 
 your guest and your kinsman. My ancestors, Mr. Oldbuck " 
 
 "Were great and gallant chiefs, I dare say. Hector ; and really I 
 did not mean to give you such immense offence in treating a point 
 of remote antiquity, a subject on which I always am myself cool, 
 deliberate, and unimpassioned. But you are as hot and hasty, as 
 if you were Hector and Achilles, and Agamemnon to boot." 
 
 " I am sorry I expressed myself so hastily, uncle, especially to 
 you, who have been so generous and good — But my ances- 
 tors " ■ 
 
 " No more about it, lad ; I meant them no affront — none." 
 
 " I am glad of it, sir ; for the house of M'Intyre" 
 
 " Peace be with them all, every man of them," said the Anti- 
 
 R 
 
2S8 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 quaiy. " But to return to ouv subject — Do you recollect, I say, any 
 of those poems which afforded you such amusement ?" 
 
 " Very hard this," thought M'Intyre, " that he will speak with 
 such glee of everything which is ancient, excepting my family." — 
 Then, after some efforts at recollection, he added aloud, " Yes, sir, 
 — I think I do remember some lines ; but you do not understand 
 the Gaelic language." 
 
 " And will readily excuse hearing it. But you can give me some 
 idea of the sense in our own vernacular idiom ? " 
 
 " I shall prove a wretched interpreter," said M'Intyre, running 
 over the original, well garnished with aghes, aughs, and oughs, and 
 similar gutturals and then coughing and hawking as if the transla- 
 tion stuck in his throat. At length, having premised that the poem 
 was a dialogue between the poet Oisin, or Ossian, and Patrick, the 
 tutelar Saint of 'Ireland, and that it was difficult, if not impossible, 
 to render the exquisite felicity of the first two or three lines, he said 
 the sense was to this purpose : 
 
 " Patrick the psalm-singer, 
 Since you will not listen to one of my stoHes, 
 Though you never heard it before, 
 I am sorry to tell you 
 You are little better than an ass '' 
 
 " Good ! good ! " exclaimed the Antiquary ; " but go on. Why, 
 this is, after all, the most admirable fooling — I dare say the poet 
 was very right. What says the Saint ? " 
 
 " He replies in character," said M'Intyre : "but you should hear 
 M'Alpin sing the original. The speeches of Ossian come in upon 
 a strong deep bass — those of Patrick are upon a tenor key." 
 
 " Like M'Alpin's drone and small pipes, I suppose," said Old- 
 buck. " Well ? Pray, go on." 
 
 " Well then, Patrick replies to Ossian : 
 
 ' Upon my word, son of Fingal, 
 While I am warbling the psalms, 
 The clamour of your old women's tales 
 Disturbs my devotional exercises.' " 
 
 " Excellent ! — why, this is better and better. I hope Saint 
 Patrick sung better than Blattergowl's precentor, or it would be 
 hang-choice between the poet and psalmist. But what I admire is 
 the courtesy of these two eminent persons towards each other. It 
 is a pity there should not be a word of this in Macpherson's 
 translation." 
 
 " If you are sure of that," said M'Intyre, gravely, " he must have 
 taken very unwarrantable Uberties with his original." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 259 
 
 " It will go near to be thought so shortly — but pray proceed." 
 " Then," said M'Intyre, " this is the answer of Ossian : 
 
 ' Dare you compare your psalms, 
 You son of a ' " 
 
 " Son of a what ?" exclaimed Oldbuck. 
 
 " It means, I think," said the young soldier, with some reluc- 
 tance, " son of a female dog: 
 
 ' Do you compare your psalms. 
 To the tales of the bare-arm'd Fenians .'' ' " 
 
 " Are you sure you are translating that last epithet correctly. 
 Hector?" 
 
 " Quite sure, sir," answered Hector, doggedly. 
 
 " Because I should have thought the nudity might have been 
 quoted as existing in a different part of the body." 
 
 Disdaining to reply to this insinuation. Hector proceeded in his 
 recitation : 
 
 " ' I shall think it no great harm 
 
 To wring your bald head from your shoulders ' 
 
 But what is that yonder ? " exclaimed Hector, interrupting 
 himself. 
 
 " One of the herd of Proteus," said the Antiquary — " 3,phoca, or 
 seal, lying asleep on the beach." 
 
 Upon which M'Intyre, with the eagerness of a young sportsman, 
 totally forgot both Ossian, Patrick, his uncle, and his wound, and 
 exclaiming — " I shall have her ! I shall have her ! " snatched the 
 walking-stick out of the hand of the astonished Antiquary, at some 
 risk of throwing him down, and set off at full speed to get be- 
 tween the animal and the sea, to which element, having caught 
 the alarm, she was rapidly retreating. 
 
 Not Sancho, when his master interrupted , his account of the 
 combatants of Pentapolin with the naked arm, to advance in per- 
 son to the charge of the flock of sheep, stood more confounded 
 than Oldbuck at this sudden escapade of his nephew. 
 
 "Is the devil in him," was his first exclamation, " to go to dis- 
 turb the brute that was never thinking of him ! " — Then elevating 
 his voice, " Hector — nephew — fool— let alone the Phoca — let alone 
 the Phoca ! — they bite, I tell you, like furies — He minds me no 
 more than a post — ^there — ^there they are at it — Gad, the Phoca 
 has the best of it ! I am glad to see it," said he, in the bitterness 
 of his heart, though really alarmed for his nephew's safety; " I am 
 glad to see it, with all my heart and spirit." 
 
 R2 
 
z6o THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 In truth, the seal, finding her retreat intercepted by the light- 
 footed soldier, confronted him manfully, and having sustained a 
 heavy blow without injury, she knitted her brows, as is the fashion 
 of the animal when incensed, and making use at once of her fore 
 paws and her unwieldy strength,, wrenched the weapon out of the 
 assailant's hand, overturned him on the sands, and scuttled away 
 into the sea, without doing him any farther injury. Captain 
 M'Intyre, a good deal out of countenance at the issue of his exploit, 
 just rose in time to receive the ironical congratulations of his 
 uncle, upon a single combat worthy to be commemorated by Ossian 
 himself, " since," said the Antiquary, " your magnanimous oppo- 
 nent hath fled, though not upon eagle's wings, from the foe that 
 
 was low ' Egad, she walloped away with all the grace of 
 
 triumph, and has carried my stick off also, by way of spolia 
 opima." 
 
 M'Intyre had little to answer for himself, except that a High- 
 lander could never pass a deer, a seal, or a salmon, where there 
 v/as a possibility of having a trial of skill with them, and that he 
 had forgot one of his arms was in a sling. He also made his fall 
 an apology for returning back to Monkbarns, and thus escaped the 
 farther raillery of his uncle, as well as his lamentations for his 
 ■walking-stick. 
 
 " I cut it," he said, " in the classic woods of Hawthornden, when 
 I did not expect always to have been a bachelor — I would not have 
 given it for an ocean of seals — O Hector ! Hector*! — thy namesaka 
 was born to be the prop of Troy, and thou to be the plague of 
 Monkbarns ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Tell me not of it, friend— when the young weep. 
 Their tears are lukewarm brine ; — from our old eyes 
 Sorrow falls down like hail-drops of the North, 
 Chilling the furrows of our withered cheeks. 
 Cold as our hopes, and harden'd as our feeling — 
 Theirs, as they fall, sink sightless — ours recoil. 
 Heap the fair plain, and bleaken all before us. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 The Antiquary, being now alone, hastened his pace, which had 
 been retarded by these various discussions, and the rencontre which 
 had closed them, and soon arrived before the half-dozen cottages at 
 Mussel-crag. They now had, in addition to their usual squalid and 
 uncomfortable appearance, the melancholy attributes of the house 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 261 
 
 of mourning. The boats were all drawn up on the beach ; and, 
 though the day was fine, and the season favourable, the chant, which 
 is used by the fishers when at sea, was silent, as well as the prattle 
 of the children, and the shrill song of the mother, as she sits mend- 
 ing her nets by the door. A few of the neighbours, some in their 
 antique and well-saved suits of black, others in their ordinary 
 clothes, but all bearing an expression of mournful sympathy with 
 distress so sudden and unexpected, stood gathered around the door 
 of Mucklebackit's cottage, waiting till " the body was lifted." As 
 the Laird of Monkbarns approached, they made way for him to 
 enter, doffing their hats and bonnets as he passed, with an air of 
 melancholy courtesy, and he returned their salutes in the same 
 manner. 
 
 In the inside of the cottage, was a scene which our Wilkie alone 
 could have painted, with that exquisite feeling of nature that charac- 
 terises his enchanting productions. 
 
 The body was laid in its coffin within the wooden bedstead which 
 the young fisher had occupied while alive. At a little distance 
 stood the father, whose rugged weather-beaten countenance, shaded 
 by his grizzled hair, had faced many a stormy night and night-like 
 day. He was apparently revolving his loss in his mind, with that 
 strong feeling of painful grief peculiar to harsh and rough charac- 
 ters, which almost breaks forth into hatred against the world, and 
 all that remain in it, after the beloved object is withdrawn. The 
 old man had made the most desperate efforts to save his son, and 
 had only been withheld by main force from renewing them at 
 a moment when, without the possibility of assisting the sufferer, he 
 must hknself have perished. All this apparently was boiling in his 
 recollection. His glance was directed sidelong towards the coffin, 
 as to an object on which he could not steadfastly look, and yet 
 from which he could not withdraw his eyes. His answers to the 
 necessary questions which were occasionally put to him, were brief, 
 harsh, and almost fierce. His family had not yet dared to address 
 to him a word, either of sympathy or consolation. His masculine 
 wife, virago as she was, and absolute mistress of the family, as she 
 justly boasted herself, on all ordinary occasions, was, by this great 
 loss, terrified into silence and submission, and compelled to hide 
 from her husband's observation the bursts of her female sorrow. 
 As he had rejected food ever since the disaster had happened, not 
 daring herself to approach him, she had that morning, with affec- 
 tionate artifice, employed the youngest and favourite child to pre- 
 sent her husband with some nourishment. His first action was to 
 push it from him with an angry violence that frightened the child ; 
 his next, to snatch up the boy and devour him with kisses. " Ye'li 
 
262 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 be a bra' fallow, an ye be spared, Patie — but ye'U never — never can 
 be — vifhat he vifas to me ! — He has sailed the coble wi' me since he 
 was ten years auld, and there wasna the like o' him drew a net 
 betwixt this and Buchan-ness — They say folks maun submit — I 
 will try." 
 
 And he had been silent from that moment until compelled to 
 answer the necessary questions we have already noticed. Such 
 was the disconsolate state of the father. 
 
 In another corner of the cottage, her face covered by her apron, 
 which was flung over it, sat the mother, the nature of her grief 
 sufficiently indicated by the wringing of her hands, and the convul- 
 sive agitation of the bosom, which the covering could not conceal. 
 Two of her gossips, officiously whispering into her ear the common- 
 place topic of resignation under irremediable misfortune, seemed as 
 if they were endeavouring to stun the grief which they could not 
 console. 
 
 The sorrow of the children was mingled with wonder at the pre- 
 parations they beheld around them, and at the unusual display of 
 wheaten bread and wine, which the poorest peasant, or fisher, offers 
 to the guests on these mournful occasions ; and thus their grief for 
 their brother's death was almost already lost in admiration of the 
 splendour of his funeral. 
 
 But the figure of the old grandmother was the most remarkable 
 of the sorrowing group. Seated on her accustomed chair, with her 
 usual air of apathy, and want of interest in what surrounded her, 
 she seemed every now and then mechanically to resume the motion 
 of twirling her spindle — then to look towards her bosom for the 
 distaff, although both had been laid aside — She would then cast 
 her eyes about, as if surprised at missing the usual implements of 
 her industry, and appear struck by the black colour of the ^own in 
 which they had dressed her, and embarrassed by the number of 
 persons by whom she was surrounded — then, finally, she would 
 raise her head with a ghastly look and fix her eyes upon the bed 
 which contained the coffin of her grandson, as if she had at once, 
 and for the first time, acquired sense to comprehend her inex- 
 pressible calamity. These alternate feelings of embarrassment, 
 wonder, and grief seemed to succeed each other more than once 
 upon her torpid features. But she spoke not a word, neither had 
 she shed a tear, nor did one of the family understand, either from 
 look or expression, to what extent she comprehended the uncom- 
 mon bustle around her. Thus she sat among the funeral assembly 
 like a connecting link between the surviving mourners and the dead 
 corpse which they bewailed — a being in whom the light of existence 
 was already obscured by the encroaching shadows of death. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 263 
 
 When Oldbuck entered this house of mourning, he was received 
 by a general and silent inclination of the head, and, according to 
 the fashion of Scotland on such occasions, wine and spirits and 
 bread were offered round to the guests. Elspeth, as these refresh- 
 ments were presented, surprised and startled the whole company by 
 motioning to the person who bore them to stop ; then, taking a glass 
 in her hand, she rose up, and, as the smile of dotage played upon 
 her shrivelled features, she pronounced, with a hollow and tremulous 
 voice, " Wishing a' your healths, sirs, and often may we hae such 
 merry meetings ! " 
 
 All shrunk from the ominous pledge, and set down the untasted 
 liquor with a degree of shuddering horror, which will not surprise 
 those who know how many superstitions are still common on such 
 occasions among the Scottish vulgar. But as the old woman tasted 
 the liquor, she suddenly exclaimed with a sort of shriek, " What's 
 this ? — this is wine — how should there be wine in my son's house ? — 
 Ay," she continued with a suppressed groan, " I mind the sorrowful 
 cause now," and, dropping the glass from her hand, she stood a mo- 
 ment gazing fixedly on the bed in which the coffin of her grandson 
 was deposited, and then sinking gradually into her seat, she covered 
 her eyes and forehead with her withered and pallid hand. 
 
 At this moment the clergyman entered the cottage. Mr. Blatter- 
 gowl, though a dreadful proser, particularly on the subject of aug- 
 mentations, localities, teinds, and overtures in that session of the 
 General Assembly, to which, unfortunately for his auditors, he 
 chanced one year to act as moderator, was nevertheless a good man, 
 in the old Scottish presbyterian phrase, God-ward and man-ward. 
 No divine was more attentive in visiting the sick and affiicted, 
 in catechizing the youth, in instructing the ignorant, and in reprov- 
 ing the erring. And hence, notwithstanding impatience of his pro- 
 lixity and prejudices, personal or professional, and notwithstanding, 
 moreover, a certain habitual contempt for his understanding, 
 especially on affairs of genius and taste, on which Blattergowl was. 
 apt to be diffuse, from his hope of one day fighting his way to 
 a chair of rhetoric or belles lettres, — notwithstanding, I say, all the 
 prejudices excited against him by these circumstances, our friend the 
 Antiquary looked with great regard and respect on the said Blatter- 
 gowl, though I own he could seldom, even by his sense of decency 
 and the remonstrances of his womankind, be hounded out, as he 
 called it, to hear him preach. But he regularly took shame to him- 
 self for his absence when Blattergowl came to Monkbarns to dinner, 
 to which he was always invited of a Sunday, a mode of testifying 
 his respect which the proprietor probably thought fully as agreeable 
 to the clergyman, and rather more congenial to his own habits. 
 
s64 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 To return from a digression which can only serve to introduce the 
 honest clergyman more particularly to our readers, Mr. Biattergowl 
 had no sooner entered the hut, and received the mute and me^ 
 lancholy salutations of the company whom it contained, than he 
 edged himself towards the unfortunate father, and seemed to en- 
 deavour to slide in a few words of condolence or of consolation. 
 But the old man was incapable as yet of receiving either ; he nodded, 
 however, gruffly, and shook the clergyman's hand in acknowledg- 
 ment of his good intentions, but was either unable or unwilling to 
 make any verbal reply. 
 
 The minister next passed to the mother, moving along the floor 
 as slowly, silently, and gradually, as if he had been afraid that the 
 ground would, like unsafe ice, break beneath his feet, or that the 
 first echo of a footstep was to dissolve some magic spell, and plunge 
 the hut, with all its inmates, into a subterranean abyss. The tenor 
 of what he had said to the poor woman could only be judged by her 
 answers, as, half-stifled by sobs ill repressed, and by the covering 
 which she still kept over her countenance, she faintly answered at 
 each pause in his speech — " Yes, sir, yes ! — Ye're very gude — ye're 
 very gude ! — Nae doubt, nae doubt ! — It's our duty to submit ! — - 
 But, O dear ! my poor Steenie ! the pride o' my very heart, that 
 was sae handsome and comely, and a help to his family, and a com- 
 fort to us a', and a pleasure to a' that lookit on him ! — O my bairn ! 
 my bairn ! my bairn ! what for is thou lying there ! and eh ! what 
 for am I left to greet for ye ! " 
 
 There was no contending with this burst of sorrow and natural 
 affection. Oldbuck had repeated recourse to his snuff-box to con- 
 ceal the tears which, despite his shrewd and caustic temper, were 
 apt to start on such occasions. The female assistants whimpered, 
 the men held their bonnets to their faces, and spoke apart with each 
 other. The clergyman, meantime, addressed his ghostly consola- 
 tion to the aged grandmother. At first she listened, or seemed to 
 listen, to what he said, with the apathy of her usual unconsciousness. 
 But as, in pressing this theme, he approached so near to her ear 
 that the sense of his words became distinctly intelligible to her, 
 though unheard by those who stood more distant, her countenance 
 at once assumed that stern and expressive cast which characterised 
 her intervals of intelligence. She drew up her head and body, 
 shook her head in a manner that showed at least impatience, if not 
 scorn of his counsel, and waved her hand slightly, but with a gesture 
 so expressive, as to indicate to all who witnessed it a marked and 
 disdainful rejection of the ghostly consolation proffered to her. 
 The minister stepped back as if repulsed, and, by lifting gently and 
 dropping his hand, seemed to show at once wonder, sorrow, and 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 263 
 
 compassion for her dreadful state of mind. The rest of the com- 
 pany sympathized, and a stifled whisper went through them, indi- 
 cating how much her desperate and determined manner impressed 
 them with awe, and even horror. 
 
 In the meantime the funeral company was completed, by the 
 arrival of one or two persons who had been expected from Fairport. 
 The wine and spirits again circulated, and the dumb show of 
 greeting was anew interchanged. The grandame a second time 
 took a glass in her hand, and drank its contents, and exclaimed, 
 with a sort of laugh, " Ha ! ha ! I hae tasted wine twice in ae day 
 — Whan did I that before, think ye, cummers .'' — Never since" — 
 And the transient glow vanishing from her countenance, she set 
 the glass down, and sunk upon the settle from whence she had 
 risen to snatch at it. 
 
 As the general amazement subsided, Mr. Oldbuck, whose heart 
 bled to witness what he considered as the errings of the enfeebled 
 intellect struggling with the torpid chill of age and of sorrow, 
 observed to the clergyman that it was time to proceed with the 
 ceremony. The father was incapable of giving directions, but the 
 nearest relation of the family made a sign to the carpenter, who in 
 such cases goes through the duty of the undertaker, to proceed in 
 his office. The creak of the screw-nails presently announced that 
 the lid of the last mansion of mortality was in the act of being 
 secured above its tenant. The last act which separates us for 
 ever, even from the mortal relics of the person we assemble to 
 mourn, has usually its effect upon the most indifferent, selfish, and 
 hard-hearted. With a spirit of contradiction, which we may be 
 pardoned for esteeming narrow-minded, the fathers of the Scottish 
 kirk rejected, even on this most solemn occasion, the form of an 
 address to the Divinity, lest they should be thought to give coun- 
 tenance to the rituals of Rome or of England. With much better' 
 and more liberal judgment, it is the present practice of most of the 
 Scottish clergymen to seize- this opportunity of offering a prayer, 
 and exhortation, suitable to make an impression upon the living, 
 while they are yet in the very presence of the relics of him whom 
 they have but lately seen such as they themselves, and who now is 
 such as they- must in their time become. But this decent and 
 praiseworthy practice was not adopted at the time of which I am 
 treating, or at least Mr. Blattergowl did not act upon it, and the 
 ceremony proceeded without any devotional exercise. 
 
 The coffin, covered with a pall, and supported upon handspikes 
 by the nearest relatives, now only waited the father to support the 
 head, as is customary. Two or three of these privileged persons 
 spoke to him, but he only answered by shaking his hand and his 
 
266 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 head in token of refusal. With better intention than judgment, 
 the friends, who considered this as an act of duty on the part of 
 the hving, and of decency towards the deceased, would have pro- 
 ceeded to enforce their request, had not Oldbuck interfered be- 
 tween the distressed father and his well-meaning tormentors, and 
 informed them, that he himself, as landlord and master to the 
 deceased, "would carry his head to the grave." In spite of the 
 sorrowful occasion, the hearts of the relatives swelled within them 
 at so marked a distinction on the part of the laird ; and old Alison 
 Breck, who was present among other fish-women, swore almost 
 aloud, " His honour Monkbarns should never want sax warp of 
 oysters in the season " (of which fish he was understood to be 
 fond), " if she should gang to sea and dredge for them hersell, in 
 the foulest wind that ever blew." And such is the temper of 
 the Scottish common people, that, by this instance of compliance 
 with their customs, and respect for their persons, Mr. Oldbuck 
 gained more popularity than by all the sums which he had yearly 
 distributed in the parish for purposes of private or general 
 charity. 
 
 The sad procession now moved slowly forward, preceded by the 
 beadles, or saulies, with their batons, — miserable-looking old men, 
 tottering as if on the edge of that grave to v/hich they were mar- 
 shalling another, and clad, according to Scottish guise, with 
 threadbare black coats, and hunting-caps decorated with rusty 
 crape. Monkbarns would probably have remonstrated against this 
 superfluous expense, had he been consulted ; but, in doing so, he 
 would have given moi-e offence than he gained popularity, by con- 
 descending to perform the office of chief mourner. Of this he was 
 quite aware, and wisely withheld rebuke, where rebuke and advice 
 would have been equally unavailing. In truth, the Scottish 
 peasantry are still infected with that rage for funeral ceremonial, 
 which once distinguished the grandees of the kingdom so much, 
 that a sumptuary law was made by the Parliament of Scotland for 
 the purpose of restraining it; and I have known many in the 
 lowest stations, who have denied themselves not merely the com- 
 forts, but almost the necessaries of life, in order to save such a sum 
 of money as might enable their si^viving friends to bury them like 
 Christians, as they termed it ; nor could their faithful executors be 
 prevailed upon, though equally necessitous, to turn to the use and 
 maintenance of the living, the money vainly wasted upon the 
 interment of the dead. 
 
 The procession to the churchyard, at about half-a-mile's distance, 
 was made with the mournful solemnity usual on these occasions, — 
 the body was consigned to its parent earth, — and when the labour 
 
THK ANTIQUARY. 267 
 
 of the grave-diggers had filled up the trench, and covered it with 
 fresh sod, Mr. Oldbuck, taking his hat off, saluted the assistants, 
 who had stood by in melancholy silence, and with that adieu, 
 dispersed the mourners. 
 
 The clergyman offered our Antiquary his company to walk 
 homeward ; but Mr. Oldbuck had been so much struck with the 
 deportment of the fisherman and his mother, that, moved by com- 
 passion, and perhaps, also, in some degree, by that curiosity which 
 induces us to seek out even what gives us pain to witness, he pre- 
 ferred a solitary walk by the coast, for the purpose of again visiting 
 the cottage as he passed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 What is this secret sin, this untold tale. 
 That art cannot extract, nor penance cleanse ? 
 
 ■ Her muscles hold their place ; 
 
 Nor discomposed, nor form'd to steadiness. 
 
 No sudden flushing, and no faltering lip. 
 
 Mysterious Mother. 
 
 The coffin had been borne from the place where it rested. The 
 mourners, in regular gradation, according to their rank or their 
 relationship to the deceased, had filed from the cottage, while the 
 younger male children were led along to totter after the bier of their 
 brother, and to view with wonder a ceremonial which they could 
 hardly comprehend. The female gossips next rose to depart, and, 
 with consideration for the situation of the parents, carried along 
 with them the girls of the family, to give the unhappy pair time 
 and opportunity to open their hearts to each other, and soften their 
 grief by communicating it. But their kind intention was without 
 effect. The last of them had darkened the entrance of the cottage, 
 as she went out, and drawn the door softly behind her, when 
 the father, first ascertaining by a hasty glance that no stranger 
 remained, started up, clasped his hands wildly above his head, 
 uttered a cry of despair which he had hitherto repressed, and,, in 
 all the impotent impatience of grief, half rushed, half staggered 
 forward to the bed on which the coffin had been deposited, threw 
 himself down upon it, and smothering, as it were, his head among 
 the bed-clothes, gave vent to the full passion of his sorrow. It 
 was in vain that the wretched mother, terrified by the vehemence 
 of her husband's affliction — affliction still more fearful as agitating 
 a man of hardened manners and a robust frame — suppressed her 
 own sobs and tears, and, pulling him by the skirts of his coat, 
 
268 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 implored him to rise and remember, that, though one was removed, 
 he had still a wife and children to comfort and support. The 
 appeal came at too early a period of his anguish, and was totally 
 unattended to ; he continued to remain prostrate, indicating, by 
 sobs so bitter and violent that they shook the bed and partitioiv 
 against which it rested, by clenched hands which grasped the bed- 
 clothes, and by the vehement and convulsive motion of his legs, 
 how deep and how terrible was the agony of a father's sorrow. 
 
 " O, what a day is this ! what a day is this ! " said the poor 
 mother, her womanish affliction already exhausted by sobs and 
 tears, and now almost lost in terror for the state in which she 
 beheld her husband ; " O, what an hour is this ! and naebody to 
 help a poor lone woman — O, gudemither, could ye but speak a 
 word to him ! — wad ye but bid him be comforted ! " 
 
 To her astonishment, and even to the increase of her fear, her 
 husband's mother heard and answered the appeal. She rose and 
 walked across the floor without support, and without much 
 apparent feebleness, and standing by the bed on which her son 
 had extended himself, she said, " Rise up, my son, and sorrow not 
 for him that is beyond sin and sorrow and temptation — Sorrow is 
 for those that remain in this vale of sorrow and darkness — I, wha 
 dinna sorrow, and wha canna sorrow for ony ane, hae maist need 
 that ye should a' sorrow for me." 
 
 The voice of his mother, not heard for years as taking part in 
 the active duties of life, or offering advice or consolation, produced 
 its eiifect upon her son. He assumed a sitting posture on the side 
 of the bed, and his appearance, attitude, and gestures changed 
 from those of angry despair to deep grief and dejection. The 
 grandmother retired to her nook, the mother mechanically took 
 in her hand her tattered Bible, and seemed to read, though her 
 eyes were drowned with tears. 
 
 They were thus occupied, when a loud knock was heard at the 
 door. 
 
 " Hegh, sirs ! " said the poor mother, " wha is it that can be 
 coming in that gait e'enow ? — They canna hae heard o' our misfor- 
 tune, I'm sure." 
 
 The knock being repeated, she rose and opened the door, saying 
 querulously, " Whatna gait's that to disturb a sorrowfu' house ? " 
 
 A tall man in black stood before her, whom she instantly recog- 
 nised to be Lord Glenallan. 
 
 " Is there not," he said, " an old woman lodging in this or one of 
 the neighbouring cottages, called Elspeth, who was long resident 
 at Craigbtirnfoot of Glenallan? " 
 
 " It's my gudemither, my lord," said Margaret ; " but she canna 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 269 
 
 see onybody e'enow — Ohon ! we're dreeing a sair weird — we hae 
 had a heavy dispensation ! " 
 
 " God forbid," said Lord Glenallan, " tliat I should on light occa- 
 sion disturb your sorrow ; but my days are numbered — your 
 mother-in-law is in the extremity of age, and, if I see her not 
 to-day, we may never meet on this side of time." 
 
 ''And what," answered the desolate mother, "wad ye see at 
 an auld woman, broken down wi' age and sorrow and heartbreak ? 
 — Gentle or semple shall not darken my doors the day my bairn's 
 been carried out a corpse." 
 
 While she spoke thus, indulging the natural irritability of dis- 
 position and profession, which began to mingle itself in some 
 degree with her grief when its first uncontrolled bursts were gone 
 by, she held the door about one-third part open, and placed herself 
 in the gap, as if to render the visitor's entrance impossible. But 
 the voice of her husband was heard from within — " Wha's that, 
 Maggie ? what for are ye steeking them out ? — let them come in — 
 it doesna signify an auld rope's end wha comes in or wha gaes out 
 o' this house frae this time forward." 
 
 The woman stood aside at her husband's command, and per- 
 mitted Lord Glenallan to enter the hut. The dejection exhibited 
 in his broken frame and emaciated countenance formed a strong 
 contrast with the effects of grief, as they were displayed in the rude 
 and weatherbeaten visage of the fisherman, and the masculine 
 features of his wife. He approached the old woman as she was 
 seated on her usual settle, and asked her, in a tone as audible as 
 his voice could make it, " Are you Elspeth of the Craigburnfoot of 
 Glenallan ? " 
 
 " Wha is it that asks about the unhallowed residence of that evil 
 woman ? " was the answer returned to his query. 
 
 " The unhappy Earl of Glenallan." 
 
 " Earl !— Earl of Glenallan ! " 
 
 " He who was called William Lord Geraldin," said the Earl ; 
 " and whom his mother's death has made Earl of Glenallan," 
 
 " Open the bole," said the old woman, firmly and hastily to her 
 daughter-in-law, " open the bole wi' speed, that I may see if this 
 be the right Lord Geraldin — the son of my mistress, — him that 
 I received in my arms within the hour after he was born — him. 
 that has reason to curse me that I didna smother him before the 
 hour was past ! " 
 
 The window, which had been shut in order that a gloomy 
 twilight might add to the solemnity of the funeral meeting, was 
 opened as she commanded, and threw a sudden and strong light 
 through the smoky and misty atmosphere of the stifling cabin. 
 
270 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 P'alling in a stream upon the chimney, the rays illuminated, in the 
 way that Rembrandt wouli have chosen, the features of the unfor- 
 tunate nobleman, and those of the old sybil, who now, standing 
 upon her feet, and holding him by one hand, peered anxiously 
 in his features with her light-blue eyes, and holding her long and 
 withered forefinger within a small distance of his face, moved it 
 slowly as if to trace the outlines, and reconcile what she recollected 
 with that she now beheld. As she finished her scrutiny, she said, 
 with a deep sigh, " It's a sair — sair change — and wha's fault is it ? 
 — but that's written down where it will be remembered — it's written 
 on tablets of brass with a pen of steel, where all is recorded that 
 is done in the flesh. — And what," she said, after a pause, "what is 
 Lord Geraldin seeking from a puir auld creature like me, that's 
 dead already, and only belangs sae far to the living that she isna 
 yet laid in the moulds ? " 
 
 " Nay," answered Lord Glenallan, " in the name of Heaven, why 
 was it that you requested so urgently to see me ? and why did you 
 back your request by sending a token which you knew well I 
 dared not refuse ? " 
 
 As he spoke thus, he took from his purse the ring which Edie 
 Ochiltree had delivered to him at Glenallan-House. The sight of 
 this token produced a strange and instantaneous effect upon the 
 old woman. The palsy of fear was immediately added to that of 
 age, and she began instantly to search her pockets with the tremu- 
 lous and hasty agitation of one who becomes first apprehensive of 
 having lost something of great importance ; then, as if convinced 
 of the reality of her fears, she turned to the Earl, and demanded, 
 " And how came ye by it, then ? — how came ye by it ? — I thought I 
 had kept it sae securely — what will the Countess say ? " 
 
 " You know," said the Earl, " at least you must have heard, that 
 my mother is dead." 
 
 " Dead ! are ye no imposing upon me ? has she left a' at last, 
 lands and lordship and lineages ? " 
 
 "All, all," said .the Earl, "as mortals must leave all human 
 vanities." 
 
 " I mind now," answered Elspeth, " I heard of it before ; but 
 there has been sic distress in our house since, and my memory is 
 sae muckle impaired — But ye are sure your mother, the Lady 
 Countess, is gane hame ? " 
 
 The Earl again assured her that her former mistress was no more. 
 
 " Then," said Elspeth, " it shall burden my mind nae langer ! — ■ 
 — When she lived, wha dared to speak what it would hae dis- 
 pleased her to hae had noised abroad? — But she's gane — and I will 
 confess all." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 271 
 
 Then turning to her son and daughter-in-law, she commanded 
 them imperatively to quit the house, and leave Lord Geraldin (for 
 so she still called him) alone with her. But Maggie Mucldebackit, 
 her first burst of grief being over, was by no means disposed in her 
 own house to pay passive obedience to the commands of her 
 mother-in-law, an authority which is peculiarly obnoxious to 
 persons in her rank of life, and which she was the more astonished 
 at hearing revived, when it seemed to have been so long relin- 
 quished and forgotten. 
 
 " It was an unco th;ng," she said, in a grumbling tone of voice, — 
 for the rank of Lord Glenallan was somewhat imposing — " it was 
 an unco thing to bid a mother leave her ain house wi' the tear in 
 her ee, the moment her eldest son had been carried a corpse out at 
 the door o't." 
 
 The fisherman, in a stubborn and sullen tone, added to the same 
 purpose, " This is nae day for your auld-warld stories, mother — 
 My lord, if he be a lord, may ca' some other day — or he may speak 
 out what he has gotten to say if he likes it. There's nane here will 
 think it worth their while to listen to him or you either. But 
 neither for laird or loon, gentle or semple, will I leave my ain 
 house to pleasure onybody on the very day my poor " 
 
 Here his voice choked, and he could proceed no farther ; but as 
 he had risen when Lord Glenallan came in, and had since re- 
 mained standing, he now threw himself doggedly upon a seat, and 
 remained in the sullen posture of one who was determined to keep 
 his word. 
 
 But the old woman, whom this crisis seemed to repossess in all 
 those powers of mental superiority with which she had once been 
 eminently gifted, arose, and advancing towards him, said, with a 
 solemn voice, " My son, as ye wad shun hearing of your mother's 
 shame-— as ye wad not willingly be a witness of her guilt — as ye wad 
 deserve her blessing and avoid her curse, I charge ye, by the body 
 that bore and that nursed ye, to leave me at freedom to speak with 
 Lord Geraldin, what nae mortal ears but his ain maun listen to. 
 Obey my words, that when ye lay the moulds on my head — and O 
 that the day were come ! — ^ye may remember this hour without the 
 reproach Of having disobeyed the last earthly command that ever 
 your mother wared on you." 
 
 The terms of this solemn charge revived in the fisherman's heart 
 the habit of instinctive obedience in which his mother had trained 
 him up, and to which he had submitted implicitly while her powers 
 of exacting it remained entire. The recollection mingled also with 
 the prevailing passion of the moment ; for, glancing his eye at the 
 bed or^ which, the dead body had been laid, he muttered to him- 
 
272 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 self, " He never disobeyed me, in reason or out o' reason, and what 
 for should 1 vex /ler ?" Then, taking his reluctant spouse by the 
 arm, he led her gently out of the cottage, and latched the door 
 behind them as he left it. 
 
 As the unhappy parents withdrew. Lord Glenallan, to prevent 
 the old woman from relapsing into her lethargy, again pressed her 
 on the subject of the communication which she proposed to make 
 to him. 
 
 " Ye will have it sune eneugh," she replied, " my mind's clear 
 eneugh now, and there is not — I think there is not — a chance of 
 my forgetting what I have to say. My dwelling at Craigburnfoot 
 is before my een, as it were present in reality: — the green bank, 
 with its selvidge, just where the burn met wi' the sea — the twa little 
 barks, wi' their sails furled, lying in the natural cove which it 
 formed— the high cliff that joined it with the pleasure-grounds of 
 the house of Glenallan, and hung right ower the stream — Ah ! 
 yes, I may forget that I had a husband and have lost him — 
 that I hae but ane alive of our four fair sons — that misfortune 
 upon misfortune has devoured our ill-gotten wealth — that they 
 carried the corpse of my son's eldest-born frae the house this 
 morning — But I never can forget the days I spent at bonny Craig- 
 burnfoot ! " 
 
 "You were a favourite of my mother," said Lord Glenallan, 
 desirous to bring her back to the point, from which she was wan- 
 dering. 
 
 " I was, I was, — ye needna mind me o' that. She brought me 
 up abune my station, and wi' knowledge mair than my fellows— 
 but, like the tempter of auld, wi' the knowledge of gude she taught 
 me the knowledge of evil." 
 
 " For God's sake, Elspeth," said the astonished Earl, " proceed, 
 if you can, to explain the dreadful hints you have thrown out ! — I 
 well know you are confident to one dreadful secret, which should 
 split this roof even to hear it named — but speak on further." 
 
 " I will," she said — " I will ; — just bear wi' me for a little '' — and 
 again she seemed lost in recollection, but it was no longer tinged 
 with imbecility or apathy. She was now entering upon the topic 
 which had long loaded her mind, and which doubtless often occu- 
 pied her whole soul at times when she seemed dead to all around 
 her. And I may add, as a remarkable fact, that such was the 
 intense operation of mental energy upon her physical powers and 
 nervous system, that, notwithstanding her infirmity of deafness, 
 each word that Lord Glenallan spoke during this remarkable con- 
 ference, although in the lowest tone of horror or agony, fell as full 
 and distinct upon Elspeth's ear as it could have done at any period 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 273 
 
 of her life. She spoke also herself clearly, distinctly, and slowly, 
 as if anxious that the intelligence she communicated should be 
 fully understood ; concisely at the same time, and with none of the 
 verbiage or circumlocutory additions natural to those of her sex and 
 condition. In short, her language bespoke a better education, as 
 well as an uncommonly firm and resolved mind, and a character of 
 that sort from which great virtues or great crimes may be naturally 
 expected. The tenor of her communication is disclosed in the 
 following chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Remorse — she ne'er forsakes us — 
 A bloodhound stanch — she tracks our rapid step 
 Through the wild labyrinth of youthful frenzy. 
 Unheard, perchance, until old age hath tam'd us ; 
 Then in our lair, when Time hath chill'd our joints, 
 And maim'd our hope of combat, or of flight. 
 We hear her deep-mouth'd bay, announcing all 
 Of wrath, and woe, and punishment that bides us. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 " I NEED not tell you," said the old woman, addressing the Earl 
 of Glenallan, " that I was the favourite and confidential attendant 
 of Joscelind, Countess of Glenallan, whom God assoilzie ! " — (here 
 she crossed herself) — " and I think farther, ye may not have for- 
 gotten that I shared her regard for mony years. I returned it by 
 the maist sincere attachment, but I fell into disgrace frae a trifling 
 act of disobedience, reported to your mother by ane that thought, 
 and she wasna wrang, that I was a spy upon her actions and 
 yours." 
 
 " I charge thee, woman," said the Earl, in a voice trembling with 
 passion, " name not her name in my hearing ! " 
 
 " I MUST," returned the penitent, firmly and calmly, '' or how can 
 you understand me ? " 
 
 The Earl leaned upon one of the wooden chairs of the hut, drew- 
 his hat over his face, clenched his hands together, set his teeth like 
 one who summons up courage to undergo a painful operation, and 
 made a signal to her to proceed. 
 
 " I say, then," she resumed, " that my disgrace with my mistress 
 was chiefly owing to Miss Eveline Neville, then bred up in 
 Glenallan-House as the daughter of a cousin -german and intimate 
 friend of your father that was gane. There was muckle mystery in. 
 her history, but wha dared to inquire farther than the Countess 
 
 s 
 
27^ THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 liked to tell ?— All in Glenallan-House loved Miss Neville— all but 
 twa, your mother and mysell — we baith hated her." ^. 
 
 " God ! for what reason, since a creature so mild, so gentle, so 
 formed to inspire affection, never walked on this wretched world ?" 
 
 " It may hae been sae," rejoined Elspeth, " but your mother hated 
 a' that cam of your father's family — a' but himsell. Her reasons 
 related to strife which fell between them soon after her marriage ; 
 the particulars are naething to this purpose. But oh ! doubly did 
 she hate EveUne Neville when she perceived that there was a 
 growing kindness atween you and that unfortunate young leddy ! 
 Ye may mind that the Countess's dislike didna gang farther at first 
 than just showing o' the cauld shouther — at least it wasna seen 
 farther ; but at the lang run it brak out into such downright 
 violence that Miss Neville was even fain to seek refuge at Knock- 
 winnock Castle with Sir Arthur's leddy, wha (God sain her !) was 
 then wi' the living." 
 
 " You rend my heart by recalling these particulars — But go on, 
 and may my present agony be accepted as additional penance for 
 the involuntary crime ! " 
 
 " She had been absent some months,'' continued Elspeth, " when 
 I was ae night watching in my hut the return of my husband from 
 fishing, and shedding in private those bitter tears that my proud 
 spirit wrung frae me whenever I thought of my disgrace. The 
 sneck was drawn, and the Countess your mother entered my 
 dwelling. I thought I had seen a spectre, for, even in the height 
 of my favour, this was an honour she had never done me, and she 
 looked as pale and ghastly as if she had risen from the grave. She 
 sate down, and wrung the draps from her hair and cloak, for the " 
 night was drizzling, and her walk had been through the plantations, 
 that were a' loaded with dew. I only mention these things that 
 you may understand how weel that night lives in my memory, — 
 and weel it may. I was surprised to see her, but I durstna speak 
 first, mair than if I had seen a phantom — Na, I durst not, my lord, 
 I that hae seen many sights of terror, and never shook at them — 
 Sae, after a silence, she said, ' Elspeth Cheyne (for she always gave 
 me my maiden name), are ye not the daughter of that Reginald 
 Cheyne, who died to save his master, Lord Glenallan, on the field 
 of Sheriffmuir ? ' And I answered her as proudly as hersell nearly 
 — ' As sure as you are the daughter of that Earl of Glenallan whom 
 my father saved that day by his own death.' " 
 
 Here she made a deep pause. 
 
 "And what followed? — what followed? — For heaven's sake, 
 
 good woman But why should I use that word ? — Yet, good or 
 
 bad, I command you to tell me." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 275 
 
 "And little I should value earthly command," answered Elspeth, 
 " were there not a voice that has spoken to me sleeping and waking, 
 that drives me forward to tell this sad tale. — Aweel, my lord — the 
 Countess said to me, ' My son loves Eveline Neville — they are 
 agreed — they are plighted : — should they have a son, my right over 
 Glenallan merges — I sink, from that moment, from a Countess into 
 a miserable stipendiary dowager — I, who brought lands and vassals, 
 and high blood and ancient fame, to my husband, I must cease to 
 be mistress when my son has an heir-male. But I care not for 
 that — had he married any but one of the hated Nevilles, I had 
 been patient — But for them — that they and their descendants 
 should enjoy the right and honours of my ancestors, goes through 
 my heart like a two-edged dirk. And this girl — I detest her ! ' — 
 And I answered, for my heart kindled at her words, that her hate 
 was equalled by mine." 
 
 " Wretch ! " exclaimed the Earl, in spite of his determination to 
 preserve silence — " Wretched woman ! what cause of hate could 
 have arisen from a being so innocent and gentle ?" 
 
 " I hated what my mistress hated, as was the use with the liege 
 vassals of the house of Glenallan ; for though, my lord, I married 
 under my degree, yet an ancestor of yours never went to the field 
 of battle, but an ancestor of the frail, demented, auld, useless 
 wretch wha now speaks with you, carried his shield before him — 
 But that was not a'," continued the beldam, her earthly and evil 
 passions rekindling as she became heated in her narration ; " that 
 was not a' — I hated Miss Eveline Neville for her ain sake — I 
 brought her frae England, and, during * our whole journey, she 
 gecked and scorned at my northern speech and habit, as her south- 
 land leddies and kimmers had done at the boarding-school, as they 
 ca'd it" (and, strange as it may seem, she spoke of an affront 
 offered by a heedless schoolgirl without intention, with a degree of 
 inveteracy which, at such a distance of time, a mortal offence 
 would neither have authorised or excited in any well-constituted 
 mind) — "Yes, she scorned and jested at me — but let them that 
 scorn the tartan fear the dirk !" 
 
 She paused, and then went on. " But I deny not that I hated 
 her mair than she deserved. My mistress, the Countess, per- 
 severed and said, 'Elspeth Cheyne, this unruly boy will marry 
 with the false English blood— were days as theyhave been, I could 
 throw her into the Massymore* of Glenallan, and fetter him in the 
 Keep of Strathbonnel — But these times are past, and the authority 
 which the nobles of the land should exercise is delegated to quib- 
 bling lawyers and their baser dependents. Hear me, Elspeth 
 Cheyne ! if you are your father's daughter as I am mine, I will 
 
 s 2 
 
276 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 find means that they shall not marry — She walks often to that 
 cliff that overhangs your dwelling to look for her lover's boat — (ye 
 may remember the pleasure ye then took on the sea, my lord) — let 
 him find her forty fathom lower than he expects !'— Yes — ye may 
 stare and frown and clench your hand ; but, as sure as I am to 
 face the only Being I ever feared — and O that I had feared Him 
 mair! — these were your mother's words. — What avails it to me to 
 lie to you ? — But I wadna consent to stain my hand with blood. — 
 Then she said, ' By the religion of our holy Church they are ower 
 sibb thegither. But I expect nothing but that both will become 
 heretics as well as disobedient reprobates,' that was her addition to 
 that argument — And then, as the fiend is ever ower busy wi' brains 
 like mine, that are subtle beyond their use and station, I was un- 
 happily permitted to add — ' But they might be brought to think 
 themselves sae sibb as no Christian law will permit their wedlock.'" 
 
 Here the Earl of Glenallan echoed her words, with a shriek so 
 piercing as almost to rend the roof of the cottage — "Ah ! then 
 Eveline Neville was not the — the " 
 
 "The daughter, ye would say, of your father?" continued Els- 
 peth. " No — be it a torment or be it a comfort to you — ken the 
 truth, she was nae mair a daughter of your father's house than I 
 am." 
 
 "Woman, deceive me not ! — make me not curse the memory of 
 the parent I have so lately laid in the grave, for sharing in a plot 
 the most cruel, the most infernal " 
 
 " Bethink ye, my Lord Geraldin, ere ye curse the memory of a 
 parent that's gane, is there none of the blood of Glenallan living, 
 whose faults have led to this dreadfu' catastrophe ?" 
 
 " Mean you my brother ? — ^he, too, is gtupe." said the Earl. 
 
 " No," replied the sibyl, " I mean yoursefl. Lord Geraldin. Had 
 you not transgressed the obedience of a son by wedding Eveline 
 Neville in secret while a guest at Knockwinnock, our plot might 
 have separated you for a time, but would have left at least your 
 sorrows without remorse to canker them — But your ain conduct 
 had put poison in the weapon that we threw, and it pierced you 
 with the mair force because ye cam rushing to meet it. Had your 
 marriage been a proclaimed and acknowledged action, our stratagem 
 to throw an obstacle into your way that couldna be got ower, 
 neither wad nor could hae been practised against ye." 
 
 " Great heaven ! " said the unfortunate nobleman ; " it is as if a 
 film fell from my obscured eyes ! Yes, I now well understand the 
 doubtful hints of consolation thrown out by my wretched mother, 
 tending indirectly to impeach the evidence of the horrors of which 
 her arts had led me to believe myself guilty." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 277 
 
 " She could not speak mair plainly," answered Elspeth, " without 
 confessing her ain fraud, and she would have submitted to be torn 
 by wild horses, rather than unfold what she had done ; and if she 
 had still lived, so would I for her sake. They were stout hearts 
 the race of Glenallan, male and female, and sae were a' that in auld 
 times cried their gathering-word of Clochnaben — they stood shouther 
 to shouther — Nae man parted frae his chief for love of gold or of 
 gain, or of right or of wrang. The times are changed, I hear, 
 now." 
 
 The unfortunate nobleman was too much wrapped up in his own 
 confused and distracting reflections, to notice the rude expressions 
 of savage fidelity, in which, even in the latest ebb of life, the un- 
 happy author of his misfortunes seemed to find a stern and stubborn 
 source of consolation. 
 
 " Great Heaven!" he exclaimed, " I am then free from a guilt 
 the most horrible with which man can be stained, and the sense of 
 which, however involuntary, has wrecked my peace, destroyed my 
 health, and bowed me down to an untimely grave. Accept," he 
 fervently uttered, lifting his eyes upwards, " accept my humble 
 thanks! — If I live miserable, at least I shall not die stained with 
 that unnatural guilt ! — And thou — proceed, if thou hast more to 
 tell — proceed, while thou hast voice to speak it, and I have powers 
 to listen." 
 
 " Yes," answered the beldam, " the hour when you shall hear, 
 and I shall speak, is indeed passing rapidly away — Death has 
 crossed your brow with his finger, and I find his grasp turning 
 every day caulder at my heart — Interrupt me nae mair with ex- 
 clamations and groans and accusations, but hear my tale to an 
 end ! And then^ — -if ye be indeed sic a Lord of Glenallan as I hae 
 heard of in my day — make your merrymen gather the thorn, and 
 the brier, and the green hoUin, till they heap them as high as the 
 house-riggin', and burn ! burn ! burn ! the auld witch Elspeth, and 
 a' that can put ye in mind that sic a creature ever crawled upon 
 the land!" 
 
 " Go on," said the Earl, "go on— I will not again interrupt you." 
 
 He spoke in a half-suffocated yet determined voice, resolved that 
 no irritability on his part should deprive him of this opportunity of 
 acquiring proofs of the wonderful tale he then heard. But Elspeth 
 had become exhausted by a continuous narration of such unusual 
 length ; the subsequent part of her story was more broken, and 
 though still distinctly intelligible in most parts, had no longer the 
 lucid conciseness which the first part of her narrative had dis- 
 played to such an astonishing degree. Lord Glenallan found it 
 necessary, when she had made some attempts to continue her 
 
273 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 narrative without success, to prompt her memory, by demanding, 
 " What proofs she could propose to bring of the truth of a narrative 
 so different from that which she had originally told ?" 
 
 " The evidence," she replied, " of Eveline Neville's real birth was 
 in the Countess's possession, with reasons for its being for some 
 time kept private. They may yet be found, if she has not de- 
 stroyed them, in the left-hand drawer of the ebony cabinet that 
 stood in the dressing-room — these she meant to suppress for the 
 .time, until you went abroad again, when she trusted, before your 
 return, to send Miss Neville back to her ain country, or to get her 
 settled in marriage." 
 
 " But did you not show me letters of my father's, which seemed 
 to me, unless my senses altogether failed me in that horrible 
 moment, to avow his relationship to — to the unhappy" • 
 
 " We did ; and, with my testimony, how could you doubt the 
 fact, or her either ? — But we suppressed the true explanation of 
 these letters, and that was, that your father thought it right the 
 young leddy should pass for his daughter for a while, on account o' 
 some family reasons that were amang them." 
 
 " But wherefore, when you learned our union, was this dreadful 
 artifice persisted in ?" 
 
 " It wasna," she replied, "till Lady Glenallan had communicated 
 this fause tale, that she suspected ye had actually made a marriage 
 — nor even then did you avow it sae as to satisfy her whether the 
 ceremony had in verity passed atween ye or no — But ye remember, 
 O ye canna but remember weel, what passed in that awfu' meet- 
 ing!" 
 
 " Woman ! you swore upon the gospels to the fact which you 
 now disavow." 
 
 " I did, and I wad hae taen a yet mair holy pledge on it, if there 
 had been ane — I wad not hae spared the blood of my body, or the 
 guilt of my soul, to serve the house of Glenallan." 
 
 " Wretch ! do you call that horrid perjury, attended with con- 
 sequences yet more dreadful — do you esteem that a service to the 
 house of your benefactors ?" 
 
 " I served her, wha was then the head of Glenallan, as she re- 
 quired me to serve her. The cause was between God and her con- 
 science — the manner between God and mine^She is gane to her 
 account, and I maun follow — Have I tauld you a' ?" 
 
 " No," answered Lord Glenallan ; " you have yet more to tell — 
 you have to tell me of the death of the angel whom your perjury 
 drove to despair, stained, as she thought herself, with a crime so 
 horrible — Speak truth — was that dreadful — was that horrible in- 
 cident " — he could scarcely articulate the words — " was it as re- 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 279 
 
 ported ? or was it an act of yet further, though not more atrocious 
 cruelty, inflicted by others ?" 
 
 " I understand you," said Elspeth. " But report spoke truth ;— 
 our false witness was indeed the cause, but the deed was her ain 
 distracted act — On that fearfu' disclosure, when ye rushed frae the 
 Countess's presence, and saddled your horse, and left the castle 
 like a fire-flaught, the Countess hadna yet discovered your private 
 marriage ; she hadna fund out that the union, which she had 
 framed this awfu' tale to prevent, had e'en taen place. Ye fled' 
 from the house as if the fire o' Heaven was about to fa' upon it, 
 and Miss Neville, atween reason and the want o't, was put under 
 sure ward. But the ward sleep't, and the prisoner waked — the 
 window was open — the way was before her — there was the cliff, 
 and there was the sea ! — O, when will I forget that !" 
 
 "And thus died," said the Earl, " even so as was reported?" 
 
 " No, my lord. I had gane out to the cove — the tide was in, and 
 it flowed, as ye'U remember, to the foot of that cliff — it was a great 
 convenience that for my husband's trade — Where am I wandering ? 
 — I saw a white object dart frae the tap o' the cliff like a sea-maw 
 through the mist, and then a heavy flash and sparkle of the waters 
 showed me it was a humari creature that had fa'en into the waves. 
 I was bold and strong, and familiar with the tide. I rushed in 
 and grasped her gown, and drew her out and carried her on my 
 shouthers — ^I could hae carried twa sic then — carried her to my 
 hut, and laid her on my bed. Neighbours cam and brought help 
 — ^but the words she uttered in her ravings, when she got back the 
 use of speech, were such, that I was fain to send them awa, and 
 get up word to Glenallan-House. The Countess sent down her 
 Spanish servant Teresa — if ever there was a fiend on earth in 
 human form, that woman was ane — She and I were to watch the 
 unhappy leddy, and let no other person approach. God knows 
 what Teresa's part was to hae been — she tauld it not to me — but 
 Heaven took the conclusion in its ain hand. The poor leddy ! she 
 took the pangs of travail before her time, bore a male child, and 
 died in the arms of me — of her mortal enemy ! Ay, ye may weep 
 — she was a sightly creature to see to — but think ye, if I didna 
 mourn her then, that I can mourn her now? — Na, na! — I left 
 Teresa wi' the dead corpse and new-born babe, till I gaed up to 
 take the Countess's commands what was to be done. Late as it 
 was, I ca'ed her up, and she gar'd me ca' up your brother" 
 
 "My brother?" 
 
 " Yes, Lord Geraldin, e'en your brother, that some said she aye 
 wished to be her heir. At ony rate, he was the person maist on- 
 cerned in the succession and heritance of the house of Glenallan." 
 
28o THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "And is it possible to believe, then, that my brother, out of 
 avarice to grasp at my inheritance, would lend himself to such a 
 base and dreadful stratagem ?" 
 
 " Your mother believed it," said the old beldam with a fiendish 
 iaugh — " it was nae plot of my making — but what they did or said 
 I will not say, because I did not hear. Lang and sair they con- 
 sulted in the black wainscot dressing-room ; and when your brother 
 passed through the room where I was waiting, it seemed to me 
 (and I have often thought sae since syne) that the fire of hell was 
 in his cheek and een. But he had left some of it with his mother, 
 at ony rate. She entered the room like a woman demented, and 
 the first words she spoke were, ' Elspeth Cheyne, did ye ever pull a 
 new-budded flower?' I answered, as ye may believe, that I often 
 had; 'then,' said she, 'ye will ken the better how to blight the 
 spurious and heretical blossom that has sprung forth this night to 
 disgrace my father's noble house — See here ;' (and she gave me a 
 golden bodkin) — ' Nothing but gold must shed the blood of Glen- 
 allan. This child is already as one of the dead, and since thou 
 and Teresa alone ken that it lives, let it be dealt upon as ye will 
 answer to me !' and she turned away in her fury, and left me with 
 the bodkin in my hahd. Here it is ; that, and the ring of Miss 
 Neville, are a' I hae preserved of my ill-gotten gear — for muckle 
 was the gear I got. And weel hae I keepit the secret, but no for 
 the gowd or gear either." 
 
 Her long and bony hand held out to Lord Glenallan a gold 
 bodkin, down which in fancy he saw the blood of his infant 
 trickling. 
 
 " Wretch ! had you the heart ? " 
 
 " I kenna if I could hae had it or no. I returned to my cottage 
 without feeling the ground that I trode on; but Teresa and the 
 child were gane — a' that was alive was gane — naething left but the 
 ilifeless corpse." 
 
 " And did you never learn my infant's fate ? " 
 
 " I could but guess. I have tauld ye your mother's purpose, and 
 I ken Teresa was a fiend. She was never mair seen in Scotland, 
 and I have heard that she returned to her ain land. A dark 
 ■ curtain has fa'en ower the past, and the few that witnessed ony 
 part of it could only surmise something of seduction and suicide. 
 You yourself" 
 
 " I know — I know it all," answered the Earl. 
 
 "You indeed know all that I can say— And now, heir of Glen- 
 .allan, can you forgive me ? " 
 
 "Ask forgiveness of God, and not of man," said the Earl, 
 turning away. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 281 
 
 " And how shall I ask of the pure and unstained what is denied 
 to me by a sinner like mysell ? — If I hae sinned, hae I not suf- 
 fered? — Hae I had a day's peace or an hour's rest since these lang 
 wet locks of hair first lay upon my pillow at Craigburnfoot ? — ^Has 
 not my house been burned, wi' my bairn in the cradle? — Have not 
 my boats been wrecked, when a' others weathered the gale ? — 
 Have not a' that were near and dear to me dree'd penance for my 
 sin ? — Has not the fire had its share o' them — the winds had their 
 part — the sea had her part? — And O !" (she added, with a 
 lengthened groan, looking first upwards towards heaven, and then 
 bending her eyes on the floor) — " O that the earth would take her 
 part, that's been lang lang wearying to be joined to it ! " 
 
 Lord Glenallan had reached the door of the cottage, but the 
 generosity of his nature did not permit him to leave the unhappy 
 woman in this state of desperate reprobation. " May God forgive 
 thee, wretched woman," he said, " as sincerely as I do ! — Turn for 
 mercy to Him, who can alone grant mercy, andmay'your prayers 
 be heard as if they were mine own ! — I will send a religious man." 
 
 " Na, na, nae priest ! nae priest ! " she ejaculated ; and the 
 door of the cottage opening as she spoke, prevented her from 
 proceeding. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Still in his dead hand clench'd remain the strings 
 That thrill his father's heart — e'en as the limb, 
 Lopp'd off and laid in grave, retains, they tell us, 
 Strange commerce with the mutilated stump, 
 Whose nei-ves are twinging still in maim'd existence. 
 
 , Old Play. 
 
 The Antiquary, as we informed the reader in the end of the 
 thirty-first chapter, had shaken off the company of worthy Mr. 
 Blattergowl, although he offered to entertain him with an abstract 
 of- the ablest speech he had ever known in the teind court, de- 
 livered by the procurator for the church in the remarkable case of 
 the parish of Gatherem. Resisting this temptation, our senior 
 preferred a solitary path, which again conducted him to the 
 cottage of Mucklebackit. When he came in front of the fisher- 
 man's hut, he observed a man working intently, as if to repair a 
 shattered boat which lay upon the beach, and, going up to him, 
 was surprised to find it was Mucklebackit himself " I am glad," 
 he said, in a tone of sympathy — " I am glad, Saunders, that you 
 feel yourself able to make this exertion." 
 
2Ba THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " And what would ye have me to do," answered the fisher gruffly, 
 " unless I wanted to see four children starve, because ane is 
 drowned ? It's weel wi' you gentles, that can sit in the house wi' 
 handkerchers at your een when ye lose a friend ; but the like o' us 
 maun to our wark again, if our hearts were beating as hard as my 
 hammer." 
 
 Without taking more notice of Oldbuck he proceeded in his 
 labour; and the Antiquary, to whom the display of human nature 
 under the influence of agitating passions was never indifferent, 
 stood beside him, in silent attention, as if watching the progress 
 of the work. He observed more than once the man's hard features, 
 as if by the force of association, prepare to accompany the sound 
 of the saw and hammer with his usual symphony of a rude tune, 
 hummed or whistled, and as often a slight twitch of convulsive 
 expression showed, that ere the sound was uttered, a cause for 
 suppressing it rushed upon his mind. At length, when he had 
 patched a considerable rent, and was beginning to mend another, 
 his feelings appeared altogether to derange the power of attention 
 necessary for his work. The piece of wood which he was about to 
 nail on was at first too long ; then he sawed it off too short ; then 
 chose another equally ill adapted for the purpose. At length, 
 throwing it down in anger, after wiping his dim- eye with his 
 quivering hand, he exclaimed, " There is a curse either on me or 
 on this auld black bitch of a boat, that I have hauled up high and 
 dry, and patched and clouted sae mony years, that she might 
 drown my poor Steenie at the end of them, an' be d — d to her ! " 
 and he flung his hammer against the boat, as if she had been the 
 intentional cause of his misfortune. Then recollecting himself, he 
 added, " Yet what needs ane be angry at her, that has neither soul 
 nor sense ? — though I am no that muckle better mysell. She's but 
 a rickle o' auld rotten deals nailed thegither, and warped wi' the 
 wind and the sea — and I am a dour carle, battered by foul 
 weather at sea and land till I am maist as senseless as hersell. 
 She maun be mended though again' the morning tide — that's a 
 thing o' necessity." 
 
 Thus speaking, he went to gather together his instruments, and 
 attempt to resume his labour, but Oldbuck took him kindly by the 
 arm. " Come, come," he said, " Saunders, there is no work for 
 you this day — I'll send down Shavings the carpenter to mend the 
 boat, and he may put the day's work into my account — and you 
 had better not come out to-morrow, but stay to comfort your 
 family under this dispensation, and the gardener will bring you 
 some vegetables and meal from Monkbarns." 
 
 " I thank ye, Monkbarns," answered the poor fisher ; " I am a 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 283 
 
 ptein-spoken man, and hae little to say for mysell ; I might hae 
 learned fairer fashions frae my mither lang syne, but I never saw 
 muckle gude they did her ; however, I thank ye. Ye were aye 
 kind and neighbourly, whatever folk say o' your being near and 
 close; and I hae often said, in thae times when they were ganging 
 to raise up . the puir folk against the gentles — I hae often said, 
 ne'er a man should steer a hair touching to Monkbarns while 
 Steenie and I could wag a finger — and so said Steenie too. And, 
 Monkbarns, when ye laid his head in the grave (and mony thanks 
 for the respect), ye sa.\v the mouls laid on an honest lad that likit 
 you weel, though he made little phrase about it." 
 
 Oldbuck, beaten from the pride of his affected cynicism, would 
 not willingly have had any one by upon that occasion to quote to 
 him him his favourite maxims of the Stoic philosophy. The large 
 drops fell fast from his own eyes, as he -begged the father, who was 
 now melted at recollecting the bravery and generous sentiments of 
 his son, to forbear useless sorrow, and led him by the arm towards 
 his own home, where another scene awaited our Antiquary. As he 
 entered, the first person whom he beheld was Lord Glenallan. 
 
 Mutual surprise was in their countenances as they saluted each 
 other, with haughty reserve 'on the part of Mr. Oldbuck, and 
 embarrassment on that of the Earl. 
 
 " My Lord Glenallan, I think," said Mr. Oldbuck. 
 
 " Yes — much changed from what he was when he knew Mr. 
 Oldbuck." ' ' 
 
 " I do not mean," said the Antiquary, " to intrude upon your 
 lordship — I only came to see this distressed family." 
 
 " And you have found one, sir, who has still greater claims on 
 your compassion." 
 
 " My compassion ? Lord Glenallan cannot need my compas- 
 sion — If Lord Glenallan could need it, I think he would hardly 
 ask it." 
 
 " Our former acquaintance," said the Earl 
 
 " Is of such ancient date, my lord — was of such, short duration, 
 and was connected with circumstances so exquisitely painful, that 
 I think we may dispense with renewing it." 
 
 So saying, the Antiquary turned away, and left the hut; but Lord 
 Glenallan followed him into the open air, and, in spite of a hasty 
 " Good morning, my lord," requested a few minutes' conversation, 
 and the favour of his advice in an important matter. 
 
 " Your lordship will find many more capable to advise you, my 
 lord, and by whom your intercourse will be deemed an honour 
 For me, I am a man retired from business and the world, and not 
 very fond of raking up the past events of my useless life ; and 
 
284 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 forgive me if I say, I have particular pain in reverting to that 
 
 period of it when I acted hke a fool and your lordship like" 
 
 He stopped short. 
 
 " Like a villain, you would say," said Lord Glenallan, " for such 
 I must have appeared to you." 
 
 " My lord— my lord, I have no desire to hear your shrift," said 
 the Antiquary. 
 
 " But, sir, if I can show you that I am more sinned against than 
 sinning — that I have been a man miserable beyond the power of 
 description, and who looks forward at this moment to an untimely 
 grave as to a haven of rest, you will not refuse the confidence 
 which, accepting your appearance at this critical moment as a hint 
 from Heaven, I venture thus to press on you." 
 
 " Assuredly, my lord, I shall shun no longer the continuation of 
 this extraordinary interview." 
 
 " I must then recall to you our occasional meetings upwards of 
 twenty years since at Knockwinnock Castle, and I need not remind 
 you of a lady who was then a member of that family." 
 
 "The uilfortunate Miss Eveline Neville, my lord — I remember 
 it well." 
 
 " Towards whom you entertained sentiments " 
 
 " Very different from those with which I before and since have 
 regarded her sex ; her gentleness, her docility, her pleasure in the 
 studies which I pointed out to her, attached my affections more 
 than became my age (though that was not then much advanced) 
 or the solidity of my character. But I need not remind your 
 lordship of the various modes in which you indulged your gaiety at 
 the expense of an awkward and retired student, embarrassed by 
 the expression of feelings so new to him, and I have no doubt that 
 the young lady joined you in the well-deserved ridicule — It is the 
 way of womankind. I have spoken at once to the painful circum- 
 stances of my addresses and their rejection, that your lordship 
 may be satisfied everything is full in my memory, and may, so far 
 as I am concerned, tell your story without scruple or needless 
 delicacy." 
 
 " I will," said Lord Glenallan. " But first let me say, you do 
 injustice to the memory of the gentlest and kindest, as well as to 
 the most unhappy of women, to suppose she could make a jest of the 
 honest affection of a man like you. Frequently did she blame me, 
 Mr. Oldbuck, for indulging my levity at your expense — may I now 
 presume you will excuse the gay freedoms which then offended 
 you ? — ^my state of mind has never since laid me under the neces- 
 sity of apologizing for the inadvertencies of a light and happy 
 temper." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 285 
 
 " My lord, you are fully pardoned," said Mr. Oldbuck. " You 
 should be aware, that, like all others, I was ignorant at the time that 
 I placed myself in competition with your lordship, and understood 
 that Miss Neville was in a state of dependence which might make 
 her prefer a competent independence and the hand of an honest man 
 — But I am wasting time — I would I could believe that the views 
 entertained towards her by others were as fair and honest as 
 mine ! " 
 
 " Mr. Oldbuck, you judge harshly." 
 
 " Not without cause, my lord. When I only, of all the magis- 
 trates of this county, having neither, like some of thepi, the honour 
 to be connected with your powerful family, nor, like others, the 
 meanness to fear it,— when I made some inquiry into the manner of 
 Miss Neville's death — I shake you, my lord, but I must be plain — 
 I do own I had every reason to believe that she had met most 
 unfair dealing, and had either been imposed upon by a counterfeit 
 marriage, or that very strong measures had been adopted to stifle 
 and destroy the evidence of a real union. And I cannot doubt in 
 my own mind, that this cruelty on your lordship's part, whether 
 coming of your own free will, or proceeding from the influence of 
 the late Countess, hurried the unfortunate young lady to the 
 desperate act by which her life was terminated." 
 
 " You are deceived, Mr. Oldbuck, into conclusions which are not 
 just, however naturally they flow from the circumstances. Believe 
 me, I respected you even when I was most embarrassed by your 
 active attempts to investigate our family misfortunes. You showed 
 yourself more worthy of Miss Neville than I, by the spirit with 
 which you persisted in vindicating her reputation even after her death. 
 But the firm belief that your well-meant efforts could only serve to 
 bring to light a story too horrible to be detailed, induced me to 
 join my unhappy mother in schemes to remove or destroy all evi- 
 dence of the legal union which had taken place between Eveline 
 and myself. And now let us sit down on this bank, for I feel unable 
 to remain longer standing, and have the goodness to listen to the 
 extraordinary discovery which I have this day made." 
 
 They sate down accordingly ; and Lord Glenallan briefly nar- 
 rated his unhappy family history — his concealed marriage — the 
 horrible invention by which his mother had designed to render im- 
 possible that union which had already taken place. He detailed 
 the arts by which the Countess, having all the_ documents relative 
 to Miss Neville's birth in her hands, had produced those only re- 
 lating to a period during which, for family reasons, his father had 
 consented to own that young lady as his natural daughter, and 
 showed how impossible it was that he' could either suspect or detect 
 
286 THE ANTIQtIARY. 
 
 the fraud put upon him by his mother, and vouched by the oaths of 
 her attendants, Teresa and Elspeth. " I left my paternal man- 
 sion," he concluded, " as if the furies of hell had driven me forth, 
 and travelled with frantic velocity I knew not whither. Nor have 
 I the slightest recollection of what I did or whither I went, until I 
 was discovered by my brother. I will not trouble you with an 
 account of my sickbed and recovery, or how, long afterwards, I 
 ventured to inquire after the sharer of my misfortunes, and heard 
 that her despair had found a dreadful remedy for all the ills of life. 
 The first thing that roused me to thought was hearing of your in- 
 • quiries into this cruel business ; and you will hardly wonder, that, 
 believing what I did believe, I should join in those expedients to 
 stop your investigation, which my brother and mother had actively 
 commenced. The information which I gave them concerning the 
 circumstances and witnesses of our private marriage enabled them 
 to bafHe your zeal. The clergyman, therefore, and witnesses, as 
 persons who had acted in the matter only to please the powerful 
 heir of Glenallan, were accessible to his promises and threats, and 
 were so provided for, that they had no objections to leave this 
 country for another. For myself, Mr. Oldbuck," pursued this un- 
 happy man, " from that moment I considered myself blotted out 
 of the book of the living, and as having nothing left to do with this 
 world. My mother tried to reconcile me to life by every art — even 
 by intimations which I can now interpret as calculated to produce 
 a doubt of the horrible tale she herself had fabricated. But I con- 
 strued all she said as the fictions of maternal affection — I will for- 
 bear all reproach — She is no more — and, as her wretched associate 
 said, she knew not how the dart was poisoned, or how deep it must 
 sink, when she threw it from her hand. But, Mr. Oldbuck, if ever, 
 during these twenty years, there crawled upon earth a living being 
 deserving of 'your pity, I have been that man. My food has not 
 nourished me — my sleep has not refreshed me — my devotions have 
 not comforted me — all that is cheering and necessary to man has 
 been to me converted into poison. The rare and limited intercourse 
 which I have held with others has been most odious to me. I felt 
 as if I were bringing the contamination of unnatural and inex- 
 pressible guilt among the gay and the innocent. There have been 
 moments when I had thoughts of another description — to plunge 
 into the adventures of war, — or to brave the dangers of the traveller 
 in foreign and barbarous climates— to mingle in political intrigue, 
 or to retire to the stern seclusion of the anchorites of our religion ; 
 — All these are thoughts which have alternately passed through my 
 mind, but each required an energy, which was mine no longer, after 
 the withering stroke I had received. I vegetated on as I could in 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 287 
 
 the same spot, — fancy, feeling, judgment, and health, gradually de- 
 caying, like a tree whose bark has been destroyed, — when first the 
 blossoms fade, then the boughs, until its state resembles the decayed 
 and dying trunk that is now before you. Do you now pity and 
 forgive me ? " 
 
 " My lord," answered the Antiquary, much affected, " my pity — 
 my forgiveness, you have not to ask, for your dismal story is of it- 
 self not only an ample excuse for whatever appeared mysterious in 
 your conduct, but a narrative that might move your worst enemies 
 (and I, my lord, was never of the number) to tears and to sympathy. 
 But permit me to ask y/hat you now mean to do, and why you have 
 honoured me, whose opinion can be of little consequence, with your 
 confidence on this occasion ? " 
 
 " Mr. Oldbuck," answered the Earl, " as I could never have fore- 
 seen the nature of that confession which I have heard this day, I 
 need not say that I had no formed plan of consulting you, or any 
 one, upon affairs the tendency of which I could not even have sus- 
 pected. But I am without friends, unused to business, and, by long 
 retirement, unacquainted alike with the laws of the land and the 
 habits of the living generation ; and when, most unexpectedly, I 
 find myself immersed in the matters of which I know least, I catch, 
 like a drowning man, at the first support that offers. You are that 
 support, Mr. Oldbuck. I have always heard you mentioned as a 
 man of wisdom and intelligence — I have known you myself as a 
 man of a resolute and independent spirit ; — and there is one cir- 
 cumstance," said he, " which ought to combine us in some degree — 
 our having paid tribute to the same excellence of character in poor 
 Eveline. You offered yourself to me in my need, and you were 
 already acquainted with the beginning of my misfortunes. To 
 you, therefore, I have recourse for advice, for sympathy, for 
 support." 
 
 " You shall seek none of them in vain, my lord," said Oldbuck, 
 " so far as my slender ability extends ; and I am honoured by the 
 preference, whether it arises from choice, or is prompted by chance. 
 But this is a matter to be ripely considered. May I ask what are 
 your principal views at present ? " 
 
 " To ascertain the fate of my child," said the Earl, " be the con- 
 sequences what they may, and to do justice to the honoui- of Eve- 
 line, which I have only permitted to be suspected to avoid discovery 
 of the yet more horrible taint to which I was made to believe it 
 liable." 
 
 " And the memory of your mother ? " 
 
 " Must bear its own burden," answered the Earl, with a sigh : 
 " better that she were justly convicted of deceit, should that be 
 
288 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 found necessary, than that others should be unjustly accused of 
 crimes so much more dreadful." 
 
 " Then, my lord," said Oldbuck, " our first business must be to 
 put the information of the old woman, Elspeth, into a regular and 
 authenticated form." 
 
 " That," said Lord Glenallan, " will be at present, I fear, im- 
 possible. — She is exhausted herself, and surrounded by her dis- 
 tressed family. To-morrow, perhaps, when she is alone — and yet 
 I doubt, from her imperfect sense of right and wrong, whether she 
 would speak out in any one's presence but my own — I too am 
 sorely fatigued." 
 
 " Then, my lord," said the Antiquary, whom the interest of the 
 moment elevated above points of expense and convenience, which 
 had gener^ly more than enough of weight with him, " I would pro- 
 pose to your lordship, instead of returning, fatigued as you are, so 
 far as to Glenallan-House, or taking the more uncomfortable alter- 
 native of going to a bad inn at Fairport, to alarm all the busy- 
 bodies of the town — I would propose, I say, that you should be my 
 guest at Monkbarns for this night — By to-morrow these poor people 
 will have renewed their out-of-doors vocation, for sorrow with them 
 affords no respite from labour, and we will visit the old woman El- 
 speth alone, and take down her examination. 
 
 After a formal apology for the encroachment. Lord Glenallan 
 agreed to go with him, and underwent with patience in their return 
 home the whole history of John of the Girnell, a legend which 
 Mr. Oldbuck was never known to spare any one who crossed his 
 threshold. 
 
 The arrival of a stranger of such note, with two saddle-horses 
 and a servant in black, which servant had holsters on his saddle- 
 bow, and a coronet upon the holsters, created a general commotion 
 in the house of Monkbarns. Jenny Rintherout, scarce recovered 
 from the hysterics which she had taken on hearing of poor Steenie's 
 misfortune, chased about the turkeys and poultry, cackled and 
 screamed louder than they did, and ended by killing one-half too 
 many. Miss Griselda made many wise reflections on the hot- 
 headed wilfulness of her brother, who had occasioned such a devas- 
 tation, by suddenly bringing in upon them a papist nobleman. 
 And she ventured to transmit to Mr. Blattergowl some hint of the 
 unusual slaughter which had taken place in the basse-cotir, which 
 brought the honest clergyman to inquire how his friend Monkbarns 
 had got home, and whether he was not the worse of being at the 
 funeral, at a period so near the ringing of the bell for dinner, that 
 the Antiquary had no choice left but to invite him to stay and bless 
 the meat. Miss M'Intyre had on her part some curiosity to see 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 289 
 
 this mighty peer, of whom all had heard, as an Eastern caliph or 
 sultan is heard of by his subjects, and felt some degree of timidity 
 at the idea of encountering a person, of whose unsocial habits and 
 stern manners so many stories were told, that her fear kept at least 
 pace with her curiosity. The aged housekeeper was no less flus- 
 tered and hurried in obeying the numerous and contradictory com- 
 mands of her mistress, concerning preserves, pastry, and fruit, the 
 mode of marshalling and dishing the dinner, the necessity of not 
 permitting the melted butter to run to oil, and the danger of allow- 
 ing Juno — who, though formally banished from the parlour, failed 
 not to maraud about the out-settlements of the family — to enter the 
 kitchen. 
 
 The only inmate of Monkbarns who remained entirely indifferent 
 on this momentous occasion was Hector M'Intyre, who cared no 
 more for an Earl than he did for a commoner, and who was only 
 interested in the unexpected visit, as it might afford some protec- 
 tion against his uncle's displeasure, if he harboured any, for his not 
 attending the funeral, and still more against his satire upon the sub- 
 ject of his gallant but unsuccessful single combat with the phoca, 
 or seal. 
 
 To these, the inmates of his household, Oldbuck presented the 
 Earl of Glenallan, who imderwent, with meek and subdued civility, 
 the prosing speeches of the honest divine, and the lengthened 
 apologies of Miss Griselda Oldbuck, which her brother in vain 
 endeavoured to abridge. Before the dinner hour. Lord Glenallan 
 requested permission to retire a while to his chamber. Mr. Old- 
 buck accompanied his guest to the Green Room, which had been 
 hastily prepared for his reception. He looked around with an air 
 of paiiiful recollection. 
 
 " I think," at length he observed, " I think, Mr. Oldbuck, that I 
 have been in this apartment before." 
 
 "Yes, my lord," answered Oldbuck, "upon occasion of an excur- 
 sion hither from Knockwinnock — and since we are upon a subject 
 so melancholy, you may perhaps remember whose taste supplied 
 these lines from Chaucer, which now form the motto of the 
 tapestry." 
 
 " I guess," said the Earl, " though I cannot recollect — She ex- 
 celled me, indeed in literary taste and information, as in everything 
 else ; and it is one of the mysterious dispensations of Providence, 
 Mr. Oldbuck, that a creature so excellent in mind and body should 
 have been cut off in so miserable a manner, merely from her having 
 formed a fatal attachment to such a wretch as I am." 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck did not attempt an answer to this burst of the grief 
 which lay ever nearest to the heart of his guest, but pressing Lord 
 
290 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Glenallan's hand with one of his own, and drawing the other across 
 his shaggy eyelashes, as if to brush away a mist that intercepted 
 his sight, he left the Earl at liberty to arrange himself previous to 
 dinner. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 ■ Life, with you, 
 
 Glows in the brain and dances in the arteries ; 
 'Tis like the wine some joyous guest hath quaff'd, 
 That glads the heart and elevates the fancy : — 
 Mine is the poor residuum of the cup. 
 Vapid and duU, and tasteless, only soiling, 
 With its base dregs, the vessel that contains it. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 " Now only think what a man my brother is, Mr. Blattergowl, for 
 a wise man and a learned man, to bring this Yerl into our house 
 without speaking a single word to a body ! — And there's the dis- 
 tress of thae Mucklebackits — we canna get a fin o' fish^and we hae 
 nae time to send ower to Fairport for beef, and the mutton's but 
 new killed— and that silly fliskmahoy, Jenny Rintherout, has taen 
 the exies, and done naethin'g but laugh and greet, the skirl at the tail 
 o' the gufK, for twa days successfully — and now we maun ask that 
 strange man, that's as grand and grave as the Yerl himsell, to 
 stand at the sideboard ! And I canna gang into the kitchen to 
 direct onything, for he's hovering there making some pousowdie " 
 (miscellaneous mess) " for my lord, for he does nae eat like ither folk 
 neither — And how to sort the strange servant man at dinner time 
 — I am sure, Mr. Blattergowl, a'thegither, it passes my judgment." 
 " Truly, Miss Griselda," replied the divine, " Monkbarns was 
 inconsiderate. He should have taen a day to see the invitation, 
 as they do wi' the titular's condescendence in the process of valua- 
 tion and sale. But the great man could not have come on a 
 sudden to ony house in this parish, where he could have been 
 better served with vhiers — that I must say — and also that the 
 steam from the kitchen is very gratifying to my nostrils ; — and if 
 ye hav,e ony household affairs to attend to, Miss Griselda, never 
 make a stranger of me — I can amuse mysel very weel with the 
 larger copy of Erskine's Institutes." 
 
 And taking down from the window-seat that amusing foUo (the 
 Scottish Coke upon Littleton), he opened it, as if instinctively, at 
 the tenth title of Book second, " of Teinds, or Tythes," and was 
 presently deeply wrapped up in an abstruse discussion concerning 
 the temporality of benefices. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 291 
 
 The entertainment, about which Miss Oldbuck expressed so 
 much anxiety, was at length placed upon the table ; and the Earl 
 of Glenallan, for the first time since the date of his calamity, sat 
 at a stranger's board, surrounded by strangers. He seemed to 
 himself like a man in a dream, or one whose brain was not fully 
 recovered from the effects of an intoxicating potion. Relieved, as 
 he had that morning been, from the image of guilt which had so 
 long haunted his imagination, he felt his sorrows as a lighter and 
 more tolerable load, but was still unable to take any share in the 
 conversation that passed around him. It was, indeed, of a cast 
 very different from that which he had been accustomed to. The 
 bluntness of 01dbuck,'the tiresome apologetic harangues of his sister, 
 the pedantry of the divine, and the vivacity of the young soldier, 
 which savoured much more of the camp than of the court, were 
 all new to a nobleman who had lived in a retired and melancholy 
 state for so many years, that the manners of the world seemed to 
 him equally strange and unpleasing. Miss M'Intyre alone, from 
 the natural politeness and unpretending simplicity of her manners, 
 appeared to belong to that class of society to which he had been 
 accustomed in his earlier and better days. 
 
 Nor did Lord Glenallan's deportment less surprise the company. 
 Though a plain but excellent family-dinner was provided (for, as 
 Mr. Blattergowl had justly said, it was impossible to surprise Miss 
 Griselda when her larder was empty), and though the Antiquary 
 boasted his best port, and assimilated it to the Falernian of 
 Horace, Lord Glenallan was proof to the allurements of both. 
 His' servant placed' before him a small mess of vegetables, that 
 very dish, the cooking of which had alarmed Miss Griselda, 
 arranged with the most minute and scrupulous neatness. He ate 
 sparingly of these provisions ; and a glass of pure water, sparkling 
 from the fountain-head, completed his repast. Such, his servant 
 said, had been his lordship's diet for very many years, unless upon 
 the high festivals of the Church, or when company of the first 
 rank were entertained at Glenallan-House, when he relaxed a 
 little in the austerity of his diet, and permitted himself a glass or 
 two of wine. But at Monkbams, no anchoret could have made a 
 more simple and scanty meal. 
 
 The Antiquary was a gentleman, as we have seen, in feeling, but 
 blunt and careless in expression, from the habit of living with 
 those before whom he had nothing to suppress. He attacked his 
 noble guest without scruple on the severity of his regimen. 
 
 " A few half-cold greens and potatoes — a glass of ice-cold water 
 to wash them down — antiquity gives no warrant for it, my lord. 
 This house used to be accounted a hospiiiu?n, a place of retreat 
 
 T 2 
 
^2 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 for Christians ; but your lordship's diet is that of a heathen Pytha- 
 gorean, or Indian Brahmin — nay, more severe than either, if you 
 refuse these fine apples." 
 
 " I am a Catholic, you are aware," said Lord Glenallan, wishing 
 to escape from the discussion, " and you know that our Church " 
 
 " Lays down many rules of mortification," proceeded the daunt- 
 less Antiquary; "but I never heard that they were quite so 
 rigorously practised — Bear witness my predecessor, John of the 
 Girnell, or the jolly Abbot, who gave his name to this apple, my 
 lord." 
 
 And as he pared the fruit, in spite of his sister's " O fie. Monk- 
 barns ! " and the prolonged cough of the minister, accompanied 
 by a shake of his huge wig, the Antiquary proceeded to detail the 
 intrigue which had given rise to the fame of the abbot's apple with 
 more slyness and circumstantiality than was at all necessary. His 
 kst (as may readily be conceived) missed fire, for this anecdote of 
 oonventual gallantry failed to produce the slightest smile on the 
 visage of the Earl. Oldbuck then took up the subject of Ossian, 
 Macpherson, and Mac-Cribb ; but Lord Glenallan had never so 
 much as heard of any of the three, so little conversant had he been 
 ■vyith modern literature. The conversation was now in some danger 
 of flagging, or of falling into the hands of Mr. Blattergowl, who 
 bad just pronounced the formidable word, " teind-free," when the 
 subject of the French Revolution was started ; a political event on 
 ■which Lord Glenallan looked with all the prejudiced horror of a 
 bigoted Catholic and zealous aristocrat. Oldbuck was far from 
 carrying his detestation of its principles to such a length. 
 
 " There were many men in the first Constituent Assembly," he 
 said, " who held sound Whiggish doctrines, and were for settling 
 the Constitution with a proper provision for the liberties of the 
 people. And if a set of furious madmen were now in possession 
 of the government, it was," he continued, " what often happened in 
 great revolutions, where extreme measures are adopted in the fury 
 of the moment, and the state resembles an agitated pendulum 
 which swings from side to side for some time ere it can acquire its 
 due and perpendicular station. Or it might be likened to a storm 
 or hurricane, which, passing over a region, does great damage in its 
 passage, yet sweeps away stagnant and unwholesome vapours, and 
 repays, in future health and fertility, its immediate desolation and 
 ravage." 
 
 The Earl shook his head ; but having neither spirit nor inclina- 
 nation for debate, he suffered the argument to pass uncontested. 
 
 This discussion served to introduce the young soldier's experi- 
 ences ; and he spoke of the actions in which he had been engaged, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 293 
 
 with modesty, and at the same time with an air of spirit and zeal 
 which delighted the Earl, who had been bred up, like others of his 
 house, in the opinion that the trade of arms was the first duty of 
 man, and believed that to employ them against the French was a 
 sort of holy warfare. 
 
 " What would I give," said he apart to Oldbuck, as they rose to 
 join the ladies in the drawing-room, " what would I give to have a 
 son of such spirit as that young gentleman ! — He wants something 
 of address and manner, something of polish, which mixing in good 
 society would soon give him — but with what zeal and animation he 
 expresses himself — how fond of his profession — how loud in the 
 praise of others — how modest when speaking of himself ! " 
 
 " Hector is much obliged to you, my lord," replied his uncle, 
 gratified, yet not so much so as to suppress his consciousness of 
 his own mental superiority over the young soldier ; " I believe in 
 my heart nobody ever spoke half so much good of him before, 
 except, perhaps, the sergeant of his company, when he was wheed- 
 ling a Highland recruit to enlist with him. He is a good lad not- 
 withstanding, although he be not quite the hero your lordship 
 supposes him, and although my commendations rather attest the 
 kindness than the vivacity of his character. In fact, his high 
 spirits is a sort of constitutional vehemence, which attends him in 
 everything he sets about, and is often very inconvenient to his 
 friends. I saw him to-day engage in an animated contest with a 
 ■phoca, or seal {sealgh, our people more properly call them, retaining 
 the Gothic guttural ^^), with as much vehemence as if he had 
 fought against Dumourier — Marry, my lord, the phoca had the 
 better, as the said Dumourier had of some other folks. And he'll 
 talk with equal if not superior rapture of the good behaviour of a 
 pointer bitch as of the plan of a campaign." 
 
 '' He shall have full permission to sport over my grounds," said 
 the Earl, " if he is so fond of that exercise." 
 
 " You will bind him to you, my lord," said Monkbarns, " body 
 and soul : give him leave to crack off his birding-piece at a poor 
 covey of partridges or moor-fowl, and he's yours for ever. I will 
 enchant him by the intelligence. But O, my lord, that you could 
 have seen my phoenix Lovel ! — the very prince and chieftain 
 of the youth of this age ; and not destitute of spirit neither — I 
 promise you he gave my termagant kinsnjan a quid pro quo — a 
 Roland for his Oliver, as the vulgar say, alluding to the two cele- 
 brated Paladins of Charlemagne." 
 
 After coffee. Lord Glenallan requested a private interview with 
 the Antiquaiy, and was ushered to his library. 
 
 " I must withdraw you from your own amiable family," he said, 
 
294 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " to involve you in the perplexities of an unhappy man. You are 
 acquainted with the world from which I have long been banished, 
 for Glenallan-House has been to me rather a prison than a dwell- 
 ing, although a prison from which I had neither fortitude nor spirit 
 to break from." 
 
 " Let me first ask your lordship," said the Antiquary, " what are 
 your own wishes and designs in this matter ? " 
 
 " I wish most especially," answered Lord Glenallan, " to declare 
 my luckless marriage, and to vindicate the reputation of the un- 
 happy Eveline ; that is, if you see a possibility of doing so without 
 making public the conduct of my mother." 
 
 " Suum cuique tribuito" said the Antiquary ; "do right to every- 
 one. The memory of that unhappy young lady has too long 
 suffered, and I think it might be cleared without further impeach- 
 ing that of your mother, than by letting it be understood in general 
 that she greatly disapproved and bitterly opposed the match. All 
 — forgive me, my lord^all who ever heard of the late Countess 
 of Glenallan, will learn that without much surprise." 
 
 " But you forget one horrible circumstance, Mr. Oldbuck,'' said 
 the Earl, in an agitated voice. 
 
 " I am not aware of it," replied the Antiquary. 
 
 " The fate of the infant — its disappearance with the confidential 
 attendant of my mother, and the dreadful surmises which may be 
 drawn from my conversation with Elspeth." 
 
 " If you would have my free opinion, my lord," answered Mr. 
 Oldbuck, " and will not catch too rapidly at it as matter of hope, I 
 would say that it is very possible the child yet lives. For thus much 
 I ascertained, by my former inquiries concerning the event of that 
 deplorable evening, that a child and woman were carried that 
 night from the cottage at the Craigburnfoot in a carriage and four 
 by your brother Edward Geraldin Neville, whose journey towards 
 England with these companions I traced for several stages. I be- 
 lieved then it was a part of the family compact to carry a child 
 whom you meant to stigmatise with illegitimacy, out of that 
 country where chance might have raised protectors and proofs of 
 its rights. But I now think that your brother, having reason, like 
 yourself, to believe the child stained with shame yet more indelible, 
 had nevertheless withdrawn it, partly from regard to the honour of 
 his house, partly from the risk to which it might have been ex- 
 posed in the neighbourhood of the Lady Glenallan." 
 
 As he spoke, the Earl of Glenallan grew extremely pale, and had 
 nearly fallen from his chair. The alarmed Antiquary ran hither and 
 thkher looking for remedies ; but his museum, though sufficiently 
 well filled with a vast variety of useless matters, contained nothing 
 
.THE ANTIQUARY. 295 
 
 that could be serviceable on the present or any other occasion. As 
 he posted out of the room to borrow his sister's salts, he could 
 not help giving a constitutional growl of chagrin and wonder at the 
 various incidents which had converted his mansion, first into an 
 hospital for a wounded duellist, and now into the sick chamber of 
 a dying nobleman. " And yet," said he, " I have always kept aloof 
 from the soldiery and the peerage. My ccenobitium has only next 
 to be made a lying-in-hospital, and then, I trow, the transformation 
 will be complete." 
 
 When he returned with the remedy. Lord Glenallan was much 
 better. The new and unexpected light which Mr. Oldbuck had 
 thrown upon the melancholy history of his family had almost over- 
 powered him. "You think, then, Mr. Oldbuck — for you are 
 capable of thinking, which I am not — you think, then, that it is 
 possible — that is, not impossible — my child may yet live .■■" 
 
 " I think," said the Antiquary, " it is impossible that it could 
 come to any violent harm through your brother's means. He was 
 known to be a gay and dissipated man, but not cruel nor dis- 
 honourable ; nor is it possible, that, if he had intended any foul 
 play, he would have placed himself so forward in the charge of the 
 infant, as I will prove to your lordship he did." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Oldbuck opened a drawer of the cabinet of his 
 ancestor Aldobrand, and produced a bundle of papers tied with a 
 black ribband, and labelled, Examinations, &c., taken by Jona- 
 than Oldbuck, J. P., upon the iSth of February, 17 — ; a little under 
 was written, in a small hand, Eheu Evelina ! The tears dropped 
 fast from the Earl's eyes, as he endeavoured, in vain, to unfasten the 
 knot which secured these documents. 
 
 " Your lordship," said Mr. Oldbuck, "had better not read these 
 at present. Agitated as you are, and having much business before 
 you, you must hot exhaust your strength. Your brother's succes- 
 sion is now, I presume, your own, and it will be easy for you to 
 make inquiry among his servants and retainers, so as to hear where 
 the child is, if, fortunately, it shall be still alive." 
 
 " I dare hardly hope it," said the Earl, with a deep sigh — " why 
 should my brother have been silent to me .' " 
 
 " Nay, my lord, why should he have communicated to your 
 lordship the existence of a being whom you must have supposed 
 the offspring of" 
 
 " Most true — there is an obvious and a kind reason for his being 
 silent. If anything, indeed, could have added to the horror of the 
 ghastly dream that has poisoned my whole existence, it must have 
 been the knowledge that such a child of misery existed." 
 
 " Then," said the Antiquary, " although it would be rash to con- 
 
sgS THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 elude, at the distance of more than twenty years, that your son 
 must needs be still alive because he was not destroyed in infancy, 
 I own I think you should instantly set on foot inquiries." 
 
 " It shall be done," replied Lord Glenallan, catching eagerly at 
 the hope held out to him, the first he had nourished for many 
 years ; " I will write to a faithful steward of my father, who acted 
 in the same capacity under my brother Neville — But, Mr. Oldbuck, 
 I am not my brother's heir." 
 
 " Indeed !— I am sorry for that, my lord— it is a noble estate, 
 and the ruins of the old castle of Neville's-Burgh alone, which are 
 the most superb relics of Anglo-Norman architecture in that part 
 of the country, are a possession much to be coveted. I thought 
 your father had no other son or near relative." 
 
 " He had not, Mr. Oldbuck," replied Lord Glenallan ; " but my 
 brother adopted views in politics, and a form of religion, alien from 
 those which had been always held by our house. Our tempers 
 had long differed, nor did my unhappy mother always think him 
 sufficiently observant to her. In short, there was a family quarrel, 
 and my brother, whose property was at his own free disposal, 
 availed himself of the power vested in him to choose a stranger for 
 his heir. It is a matter which never struck irie as being of the 
 least consequence ; for if worldly possessions could alleviate misery, 
 I have enough and to spare. But now I shall regret it, if it throws 
 any difficulty in the way of our inquiries — and I bethink me that it 
 may ; for in case of my having a lawful son of my body, and my 
 brother dying without issue, my father's possessions stood entailed 
 upon my son. It is not therefore likely that this heir, be who he 
 may, will afford us assistance in making a discovery which may 
 turn out so much to his own pi'ejudice." 
 
 "And in all probability the steward your lordship mentions is 
 also in his service," said the Antiquary. 
 
 " It is most likely ; and the man being a Protestant — how far it 
 is safe to intrust him " 
 
 " I should hope, my lord," said Oldbuck, gravely, " that a Pro- 
 testant may be as trustworthy as a Catholic. I am doubly inte- 
 rested in the Protestant faith, my lord. My ancestor, Aldobrand 
 Oldenbuck, printed the celebrated Confession of Augsburg, as I 
 can show by the original edition now in this house." 
 
 " I have not the least doubt of what you say, Mr. Oldbuck," 
 replied the Earl, " nor do I speak out of bigotry or intolerance ; 
 but probably the Protestant steward will favour the Protestant heir 
 rather than the Catholic— if, indeed, my son has been bred in his 
 father's faith — or, alas ! if indeed he yet lives." 
 
 " We must look close into this," said Oldbuck, " before com- 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 297 
 
 mitting ourselves. I have a literary friend at York, with whom I 
 have long corresponded on the subject of the Saxon horn that is 
 preserved in the Minster there ; we interchanged letters for six 
 years, and have only as yet been able to settle the first line of the 
 inscription. I will write forthwith to this gentleman. Dr. Dryas- 
 dust, and be particular in my inquiries concerning the character, 
 &c. of your brother's heir, of the gentleman employed in his affairs, 
 and what else may be likely to further your lordship's inquiries. 
 In the meantime your lordship will collect the evidence of the 
 marriage, which I hope can still be recovered." 
 
 " Unquestionably," replied the Earl : " the witnesses, who were 
 formerly withdrawn from your research, are still living. My tutor, 
 who solemnized the marriage, was provided for by a living in 
 France, and has lately returned to this country as an emigrant, a 
 victim of his zeal for loyalty, legitimacy, and religion." 
 
 " That's one lucky consequence of the French Revolution, my 
 lord — you must allow that, at least," said Oldbuck : " but no 
 offence ; I will act as warmly in your affairs as if I were of your 
 own faith in politics and religion. And take my advice — If you 
 want an affair of consequence properly managed, put it into the 
 hands of an antiquary ; for, as they are eternally exercising their 
 genius and research upon trifles, it is impossible they can be 
 baffled in affairs of importance ; — use makes perfect ; and the 
 corps that is most frequently drilled upon the parade will be most 
 prompt in its exercise upon the day of battle. And, talking upon 
 that subject, I would willingly read to your lordship, in order to 
 pass away the time betwixt and supper •" 
 
 " I beg I may not interfere with family arrangements," said Lord 
 Glenallan, "_but I never taste anything after sunset." 
 
 " Nor I either, my lord," answered his host, "notwithstanding it 
 is said to have been the custom of the ancients — but then I dine 
 differently from your lordship, and therefore am: better enabled to 
 dispense with those elaborate entertainments which my woman- 
 kind (that is, my sister and niece, my lord) are apt to place on the 
 table, for the display rather of their own housewifery than the 
 accommodation of our wants, However, a broiled bone, or a 
 smoked haddock, or an oyster, or a slifce of bacon of our own 
 curing, with a toast and a tankard — or something or other of that 
 sort, to close the orifice of the stomach before going to bed, does 
 not fall under my restriction, nor, I hope, under your lordship's." 
 
 "My no-supper is literal, Mr. Oldbuck ; but I will attend you 
 at your meal with pleasure." 
 
 " Well, my lord," replied the Antiquary, " I will endeavour to 
 entertain your ears at least, since I cannot banquet your palata 
 
298 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 What I am about to read to your lordship relates to the upland 
 glens." 
 
 Lord Glenallan, though he would rather have recurred to the 
 subject of his own uncertainties, was compelled to make a sign of 
 rueful civility and acquiescence. 
 
 The Antiquary, therefore, took out his portfolio of loose sheets, 
 and after premising that the topographical details here laid down 
 were designed to illustrate a slight essay upon castramentation, 
 which had been read with indulgence at several societies of Anti- 
 quaries, he commenced as follows : " The subject, my lord, is the 
 hill-fort of Quickens-bog, with the site of which your lordship is 
 doubtless familiar ; it is upon your store-farm of Mantanner, in the 
 barony of Clochnaben." 
 
 " I think I have heard the names of these places," said the Earl, 
 in answer to the Antiquary's appeal. 
 
 " Heard the name ? and the farm brings him six hundred a-year 
 — O Lord ! " 
 
 Such was the scarce subdued ejaculation of the Antiquary. But 
 his hospitality got the better of his surprise, and he proceeded 
 to read his essay with an audible voice, in great glee at having 
 secured a patient, and, as he fondly hoped, an interested hearer. 
 
 " Quickens-bog may at first seem to derive its name from the 
 plant Quicken, by which, Scottice, we understand couch-grass, dog- 
 grass, or the Triticum repetis of Linnjeus ; and the common 
 English monosyllable Bog, by which we mean, in popular language, 
 a marsh or morass ; in Latin Palus. But it may confound the 
 rash adopters of the more obvious etymological derivations,- to 
 learn, that the couch-grass or dog-grass, or, to speak scientifically, 
 the triticum repeiis of Linnseus, does not grow within a quarter of 
 a mile of this castrum or hill-fort, whose ramparts are uniformly 
 clothed with short verdant turf ; and that we must seek a bog or 
 palus at a still greater distance, the nearest being that of Gird-the- 
 mear, a full half-mile distant. The last syllable, bog, is obviously, 
 therefore, a mere corruption of the Saxon Burgh, which we find in 
 the various transmutations of Burgh, Burrow, Broitgh, Brtijf, 
 Buff, and Boff, which last approaches very near the sound in 
 question— since, supposing the word to have been originally borgh, 
 which is the genuine Saxon spelling, a slight change, such as 
 modern organs too often make upon ancient sounds, will produce 
 first Bogh, and then, elisa H, or compromising and sinking the 
 guttural, agreeable to the common vernacular practice, you have 
 either Boff ox Bog as it happens. The word Quickens requires hi 
 like manner to be altered,— decomposed, as it were,— and reduced 
 to its original and genuine sound, ere we can discern its real 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 299 
 
 meaning. By the ordinary exchange of the Qu into IVk, familiar- 
 to the rudest iyro who has opened a book of old Scottish poetry,- 
 Vie gain either Whilkens or Whichens-borg — put, we may suppose, > 
 by way of question, as if those who imposed the name, struck with 
 the extreme antiquity of the place, had expressed in it an interro- 
 gation, ' To whom did this fortress belong ? ' — Or it might be 
 Whackens-burgh, from the Saxon Whacken, to strike with the 
 hand, as doubtless the skirmishes near a place of such apparent 
 . consequence must have legitimated such a derivation," &c. &c. &c. 
 I will be more merciful to my readers than Oldbuck was to his 
 guest ; for, considering his opportunities of gaining patient atten- 
 tion from a person of such consequence as Lord Glenallan were 
 not many, he used, or rather abused, the present to the uttermost. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Crabbed age and youth 
 
 Cannot live together : — 
 Youth is full of pleasance, 
 
 Age is full of care : 
 Youth like summer morn. 
 
 Age like winter weather. 
 Youth like summer brave, 
 
 Age like winter bare. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 In the moVning of the following day, the Antiquary, who was 
 something of a sluggard, was summoned from his bed a full hour 
 earlier than his custom by Caxon. 
 
 " What's the matter now 1 " he exclaimed, yawning, and stretch- 
 ing forth his hand to the huge gold repeater, which, bedded upon 
 his India silk handkerchief, was laid safe by his pillow — "what's 
 the matter now, Caxon ? — it can't be eight o'clock yet." 
 
 " Na, sir, — but my lord's man sought me out, for he fancies me 
 your honour's valley-de-sham, — and sae I am, there's nae doubt 
 o't, baith your honour's and the minister's — at least ye hae nae 
 other that I ken o'— and I gie a help to Sir Arthur too, but 
 that's mair in the way o' my profession." 
 
 " Well, well — never mind that," said the Antiquary, " happy is he 
 that is his own valley-de-sham, as you call it — but why disturb my 
 morning's rest ? " 
 
 " Ou, sir, the great man's been up since peep o' day, and he's 
 steered the town to get awa an express to fetch his carriage, 
 and it will be here briefly, and he wad like to see your honour 
 afore he gaes awa." 
 
30O THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " Gadso ! " ejaculated Oldbuck, " these great men use one's 
 house and time as if they were their own property. Well, it's once 
 and away. Has Jenny come to her senses yet, Caxon ? " 
 
 " Troth, sir, but just middling," replied the barber ; "she's been 
 in a swither about the jocolate this morning, and was like to hae 
 toomed it a' out into the slap-bason, and drank it hersell in her 
 ecstasies— but she's won ower wi't, wi' the help o' Miss M'Intyre." 
 
 "Then all my womankind are on foot and scrambling, and I 
 must enjoy my quiet bed no longer, if I would have a well-regulated 
 house — Lend me my gown. — And what are the news at Fairport ?" 
 
 " Ou, sir, what can they be about but this grand news o' my lord," 
 answered the old man, " that hasna been ower the door-stane, they 
 threep to me, for this twenty years — this grand news of his coming 
 to visit your honour ! " 
 
 "Aha!" said Monkbarns ; "and what do they say of that, 
 Caxon ? " 
 
 " 'Deed, sir, they hae various opinions. Thae fallows, that are 
 the democraws, as they ca' them, that are again' the king and the 
 law, and hair-powder and dressing o' gentleman's wigs — a wheen 
 blackguards — they say he's come doun to speak wi' your honour 
 about bringing doun his hill lads and Highland tenantry to break 
 up the meetings of the Friends o' the feople ; — and when I said 
 your honour never meddled wi' the like o' sic things where there 
 was like to be straiks and bloodshed, they said, if ye didna, your 
 nevoy did, and that he was weel kend to be a kingsman that wad 
 fight knee-deep, and that ye were the head and he was the hand, 
 and that the Yerl was to bring out the rpen and the siller." 
 
 " Come," said the Antiquary, laughing, " I am glad the war is to 
 cost me nothing but counsel." 
 
 " Na, na," said Caxon, "naebody thinks your honour wad either 
 fight yoursell, or gie ony feck o' siller to ony side o' the question." 
 
 " Umph ! well, that's the opinion of the democraws, as you call 
 them — What say the rest of Fairport ? " 
 
 " In troth," said the candid reporter, " I canna say it's muckle 
 better — Captain Coquet, of the volunteers — that's him that's to be 
 the new collector, — and some of the other gentlemen of the Blue 
 and a' Blue Club, are just saying it's no right to let papists, that 
 hae so mony French friends as the Yerl of Glenallan, gang through 
 the country, and — but your honour will ittaybe be angry ?" 
 
 " Not I, Caxon," said Oldbuck ; "fire away, as if you were Cap- 
 tain Coquet's whole platoon — I can stand it." 
 
 " Weel, then, they say, sir, that as ye didna encourage the petition 
 about the peace, and wadna petition in favour of the new tax, and 
 as ye were again' bringing in the yeomanry at the meal mob, but 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 301 
 
 just for settling the folk wi' tlie constables — they say ye're no a 
 gude friend to government ; and that thae sort o' meetings between 
 sic a powerfu' nian as the Yerl, and sic a wise man as you, — od, 
 they think they suld be lookit after ; and some say ye should baith 
 be shankit aff till Edinburgh Castle." 
 
 " On my word," said the Antiquary, " I am infinitely obliged to 
 my neighbours for their good opinion of me ! And so, I, that have 
 never interfered with their bickerings, but to recommend quiet 
 and moderate measures, am given up on both sides as a man very 
 likely to commit high treason, either against King or People ? — 
 Give me my coat, Caxon — give me my coat ; — It's lucky I live hot 
 in their report. — Have you heard anything of Taffril and his 
 vessel ? " 
 
 Caxon's countenance fell. — " Na, sir, and the winds hae been 
 high, and this is a fearfu' coast to cruise on in thae eastern gales, — 
 the headlands rin sae far out, that a veshel's embayed afore I could 
 sharp a razor ; and then there's nae harbour or city of refuge on 
 our coast, a' craigs and breakers ; a veshel that rins ashore wi' us 
 flees asunder like the powther when I shake the pluff — and it's as 
 ill to gather ony o't again — I aye tell my daughter thae things when 
 she grows wearied for a letter frae Lieutenant Taffril — It's aye an 
 apology for him. — Ye suldna blame him, says I, hinny, for ye little 
 ken what may hae happened." 
 
 "Ay, ay, Caxon, thou art as good a comforter as a valet-de- 
 chambre. — Give me a white stock, man, — d'ye think I can go down 
 with a handkerchief about my neck when I have company ?" 
 
 " Dear sir, the Captain says a three-nookit hankercher is the 
 maist fashionable overlay, and that stocks belang to your honour 
 and me that are auld warld folk — I beg pardon for mentioning us 
 twa thegither, but it was what he said." 
 
 " The Captain's a puppy, and you are a goose, Caxon." 
 
 " It's very like it may be sae," replied the acquiescent barber, — 
 " I am sure your honour kens best." 
 
 Before bi'eakfast, Lord Glenallan, who appeared in better spirits 
 than he had evinced in the former evening, went particularly 
 through the various circumstances of evidence which the exertions 
 of Oldbuck had formerly collected ; and pointing out the means 
 which he possessed of completing the proof of his marriage, ex- 
 pressed his resolution instantly to go through the painful task of 
 collecting and restoring the evidence concerning the birth of Eve- 
 line Neville, which Elspeth had stated to be in his mother's pos- 
 session. 
 
 " And yet, Mr. Oldbuck," he said, "I feel like a man who receives 
 important tidings ere he is yet fully awake, and doubt whether they 
 
302 THE ANliyUARY. 
 
 refer to actual life, or are not rather a continuation of his dream. 
 This woman, — this Elspeth, — she is in the extremity of age, and 
 approaching in many respects to dotage. Have I not — it is a 
 hideous question — ^have I not been hasty in the admission of her 
 present evidence, against that which she formerly gave me to a 
 very — very different purpose ? " 
 
 Mr. Oldbuck paused a moment, and then answered with firm- 
 ness — " No, my lord ; I cannot think you have any reason to 
 • suspect the truth of what she has told you last, from no apparent 
 impulse but the urgency of conscience. Her confession was volun- 
 tary, disinterested, distinct, congistent with itself, and with all the 
 other known circumstances of the case. I would lose no time, how- 
 ever, in examining and arranging the other documents to which she 
 has referred ; and I also think her own statement should be takeii 
 down, if possible, in a formal manner. We thought of setting about 
 this together. But it will be a relief to your lordship, and moreover 
 have a more impartial appearance, were I to attempt the investiga- 
 tion alone, in the capacity of a magistrate, I will do this, at least 
 I will attempt it, so soon as I shall see her in a favourable state of 
 mind to undergo the examination." 
 
 Lord Glenallan wrung the Antiquary's hand in token of grateful 
 acquiescence. " 1 cannot express to you," he said, " Mr. Oldbuck, 
 how much your countenance and co-operation in this dark and 
 most melancholy business gives me relief and confidence. I cannot 
 enough applaud myself for yielding to the sudden impulse which 
 impelled me, as it were, to drag you into my confidence, and which 
 arose from the experience I had formerly of your firmness in dis- 
 charge of your duty as a magistrate, and as a friend to the memory 
 of the unfortunate. Whatever the issue of these matters may 
 prove, — and I would fain hope there is a dawn breaking on the 
 fortunes of my house, though I shall not live to enjoy its light,— 
 but whatsoever be the issue, you have laid my family and me under 
 the most lasting obligation." 
 
 " My lord," answered the Antiquary, " I must necessarily have 
 the greatest respect for your lordship's family, which I am well 
 aware is one of the most ancient in Scotland, being certainly de- 
 rived from Aymer de Geraldin, who sat in Parliament at Perth, in 
 the reign of Alexander II., and who, by the less vouched, yet 
 plausible tradition of the country, is said to have been descended 
 from the Marmor of Clochnaben — ^Yet with all my veneration for 
 your ancient descent, I must acknowledge that I find myself still 
 more bound to give your lordship what assistance is in my limited 
 power, from sincere sympathy with your sorrows, and detestation at 
 the frauds which have so long been practised upon you. — But, my 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 303 
 
 lord, the matin meal is, I see, now prepared. — Permit me to show 
 your lordship the way through the intricacies of my canobitium, 
 which is rather a combination of cells, jostled oddly together, and 
 piled one upon the top of the other, than a regular house. — I trust 
 you will make yourself some amends for the spare diet of yes- 
 terday." 
 
 But this was no part of Lord Glenallan's system : having saluted 
 the company with the grave and melancholy politeness which dis- , 
 tinguished his manners, his servant placed before him a slice of 
 toasted bread, with a glass of fair water, being the fare on which he 
 usually broke his fast. While the morning's meal of the young 
 soldier and the old Antiquary was dispatched in a much more sub- 
 stantial manner, the noise of wheels was heard. 
 
 " Your lordship's carriage, I believe," said Oldbuck, stepping to 
 the window. " On my word, a handsome Quadriga, for such, 
 according to the best scholium, was the vox signata of the Romans 
 for a chariot which, like that of your lordship, was drawn by four 
 horses." 
 
 " And I will venture to say," cried Hector, eagerly gazing from 
 the window, " that four handsomer or better-matched bays never 
 were put in harness — What fine fore-hands ! — what capital chargers 
 they would make ! — Might I ask if they are of your lordship's own 
 breeding ? " 
 
 "I — I — rather believe so," said Lord Glenallan ; "but I have 
 been so negligent of my domestic matters, that I am ashamed to 
 say I must apply to Calvert " (looking at the domestic). 
 
 " They are of your lordship's own breeding," said Calvert, " got 
 by Mad Tom out of Jemima and Yarico, your lordship's brood 
 mares." 
 
 " Are there more of the set ? " said Lord Glenallan. 
 
 " Two, my lord, — one rising four, the other five off this grass, 
 both very handsome." 
 
 " Then let Dawkins bring them down to Monkbams to-morrow," 
 said the Earl — " I hope Captain M'Intyre will accept them, if they 
 are at all fit for service." 
 
 Captain M'Intyre's eyes sparkled, and he was profuse in grateful 
 acknowledgments ; while Oldbuck, on the other hand, seizing the 
 Earl's sleeve endeavoured to intercept a present which boded no 
 good to his corn-chest and hay-loft. 
 
 " My lord — my lord — much obliged — much obliged — But Hector 
 is a pedestrian, and never mounts on horseback in battle — he is a 
 Highland soldier, moreover, and his dress is ill adapted for cavalry 
 service. Even Macpherspn never mounted his ancestors on horse- 
 back, though he has the impudence to talk of their being car- 
 
304 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 borne — and that, my loi'd, is what is running in Hector's head — it 
 is the vehicular!, not the equestrian exercise, which he envies — 
 
 ' Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum 
 CoUegisse juvat.' 
 
 His noddle is running on a curricle, which he has neither money to 
 buy, nor skill to drive if he had it ; and I assure your lordship, that 
 the possession of two such quadrupeds would prove a greater 
 scrape than any of his duels, whether with human foe or with my 
 friend the ■pliocaP 
 
 " You must command us all at present, Mr. Oldbuck," said the 
 Earl, politely; "but I trust you will not ultimately prevent my 
 gratifying my young friend in some way that may afford him 
 pleasure?" 
 
 " Any thing useful, my lord," said Oldbuck, " but no curriculum — 
 I protest he might as rationally propose to keep a quadriga at 
 once — And now I think of it, what is that old post-chaise from 
 Fairport come jingling here for ? — I did not send for it." 
 
 " / did, sir," said Hector, rather sulkily, for he was not much 
 o-ratified by his uncle's interference to prevent the Earl's intended 
 generosity, nor particularly inclined to relish either the disparage- 
 ment which he cast upon his skill as a charioteer, or the mortifying 
 allusion to his bad success in the adventure of the duel and the seal. 
 
 " You did, sir ? " echoed the Antiquary, in answer to his concise 
 information. " And pray, what may be your business with a post- 
 chaise?— Is this splendid equipage — this biga, as I may call it — to 
 serve for an introduction to n quadriga or a curriculum f " 
 
 " Really, sir," replied the young soldier, " if it be necessary to 
 give you such specific explanation, I am going to Fairport on a 
 little business." 
 
 " Will you permit me to inquire into the nature of that business, 
 Hector?" answered his uncle, who loved the exercise of a little 
 brief authority over his relative. " I should suppose any regimental 
 affairs might be transacted by your worthy deputy the sergeant — 
 an honest gentleman, who is so good as to make Monkbarns his 
 home since his arrival among us — I should, I say, suppose that he 
 may transact any business of yours, without your spending a day's 
 pay on two dog-horses, and such a combination of rotten wood, 
 cracked glass, and leather — such a skeleton of a post-chaise, as that 
 before the door." 
 
 "It is not regimental business, sir, that calls me ; and, .since 
 you insist upon knowing, I must inform you, Caxon has brought 
 word this morning that old Ochiltree, the beggar, is to be brought 
 up for examination to-day, previous to his being committed for 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 305 
 
 trial; and I am going to see that the poor old fellow gets fair play — 
 that's all." 
 
 " Ay ! — I heard something of this, but could not think it serious. 
 And pray, Captain Hector, who are so ready to be every man's 
 second on all occasions of strife, civil or military, by land, by water, 
 or on the sea-beach, what is your especial concern with old Edie 
 Ochiltree ? " 
 
 " He was a soldier in my father's company, sir," replied Hector ; 
 " and besides, when I was about to do a very foolish thing one day, 
 he interfered to prevent me, and gave me almost as much good 
 advice, sir, as you could have done yourself." 
 
 " And with the same good effect, I dare be sworn for it — Eh, 
 Hector .' — Come, confess, it was thrown away." 
 
 " Indeed it was, sir ; but I see no reason that my folly should 
 make me less grateful for his intended kindness." 
 
 " Bravo, Hector ! that's the most sensible thing I ever heard you 
 say, — but always tell me your plans without reserve ; — why, I will 
 go with you, myself, man. I am sure the old fellow is not guilty, and 
 I wiU assist him in such a scrape much more effectually than you 
 can do. Besides, it will save thee half-a-guinea, my lad, a consider- 
 ation which I heartily pray you to have more frequently before 
 your eyes." 
 
 Lord Glenallan's politeness had induced him to turn away and 
 talk with the ladies, when the dispute between the uncle and 
 nephew appeared to grow rather too animated to be fit for the ear 
 of a stranger, but the Earl mingled again in the conversation when 
 the placable tone of the Antiquary expressed amity. Having re- 
 ceived a brief account of the mendicant, and of the accusation 
 brought against him, which Oldbuck did not hesitate to ascribe to 
 the malice of Dousterswivel, Lord Glenallan asked, whether the indi- 
 vidual in question had not been a soldier formerly? — He was 
 answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " Had he not," continued his lordship, " a coarse blue coat, or 
 gown, with a badge ? — Was he not a tall, striking-looking old man, 
 with grey beard and hair, who kept his body remarkably erect, and 
 talked with an air of ease and independence, which formed a strong 
 contrast to his profession ? " 
 
 " All this is an exact picture of the man," returned Oldbuck. 
 
 " Why, then," continued Lord Glenallan, " although I fear I can 
 be of no use to him in his present condition, yet I owe him a debt of 
 gratitude for being the first person who brought me some tidings of 
 the utmost importance. I would willingly offer him a place of com- 
 fortable retirement, when he is extricated from his present situation." 
 ■ " I fear, my lord," said Oldbuck, " he would have difficulty in 
 
 u 
 
3o6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 reconciling his vagrant habits to the acceptance of your bounty, at 
 least I know the experiment has been tried without effect. To beg 
 from the public at large he considers as independence, in compari- 
 son to drawing his whole support from the bounty of an individual. 
 He is so far a true philosopher, as to be a contemner of all ordinary 
 rules of hours and times. When he is hungry he eats; when thirsty 
 he drinks ; when weary he sleeps ; and with such indifference with 
 respect to the means and appliances about which we make afuss,that 
 I suppose he was never ill dined or ill lodged in his life. Then he 
 is, to a certain extent, the oracle of the district through which he 
 travels — their genealogist, their newsman, their master of the revels, 
 their doctor at a pinch, or their divine ; — I promise you he has too 
 many duties, and is top zealous in performing them, to be easily 
 bribed to abandon his calling. But I should be truly sorry if they 
 sent the poor light-hearted old man to lie for weeks in a jail. I am 
 convinced the confinement would break his heart." 
 
 Thus finished the conference. Lord Glenallan, having taken 
 leave of the ladies, renewed his offer to Captain M'Intyre of the 
 freedom of his manors for sporting, which was joyously accepted. 
 
 " I can only add," he said, " that if your spirits are not liable to 
 be damped by dull company, Glenallan-House is at all times open 
 to you. — On two days of the week, Friday and Saturday, I keep ftiy 
 apartment, which will be rather a relief to you, as you will be left to 
 enjoy the society of my almoner, Mr. Gladsmoor, who is a scholar 
 and a man of the world." 
 
 Hector, his heart exulting at the thoughts of ranging through the 
 preserves of Glenallan-House, and over the well-protected moors 
 of Clochnaben, nay, joy of joys ! the deer-forest of Strath-Bonnel, 
 made many acknowledgments of the honour and gratitude he felt. 
 Mr. Oldbuck was sensible of the Earl's attention to his nephew ; 
 Miss M'Intyre was pleased because her brother was gratified ; and 
 Miss Griselda Oldbuck looked forward with glee to the potting of 
 whole bags of moor-fowl and black game, of which Mr. Blattergowl 
 was a professed admirer. Thus, — which is always the case when a 
 man of rank leaves a private family where he has studied to appear 
 obliging, — all were ready to open in praise of the Earl as soon as 
 he had taken his leave, and was wheeled off in his chariot by the 
 four admired bays. But the panegyric was cut short, for Oldbuck 
 and his nephew deposited themselves in the Fairport hack, which, 
 with one horse trotting, and the other urged to a canter, creaked, 
 jingled, and hobbled towards that celebrated seaport, in a manner 
 that formed a strong contrast to the' rapidity and smoothness with 
 which Lord Glenallan's equipage had seemed to vanish from their 
 eyes. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 307 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Yes ! I love justice well — as well as you do^- 
 
 But since the good dame's blind, she shall excuse me, 
 
 If, time and reason fitting, I prove dumb ; — 
 
 The breath I utter now shall be no means 
 
 To take away from me my breath in future. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 By dint of charity from the towrfs people in aid of the load of 
 provisions he had brought with him into durance, Edie Ochiltree 
 had passed a day or two's confinement without much impatience, 
 regretting his want of freedom the less, as the weather proved broken 
 and rainy. 
 
 " The prison," he said, " wasna sae dooms bad a place as it was 
 ca'd. Ye had a good roof ower your head to fend aff the weather, 
 and, if the windows werena glazed, it was the mairairy and pleasant 
 for the summer season. And there were folk enow to crack wi', 
 and he had bread eneugh to eat, and what need he fash himseU 
 about the rest o't ? " 
 
 The courage of our philosophical mendicant began, however, to 
 abate, when the sunbeams shone fair on the rusty bars of his grated 
 dungeon, and a miserable linnet, whose cage some poor debtor had 
 obtained permission to attach to the window; began to greet them 
 with his whistle. 
 
 " Ye're in better spirits than I am," said Edie, addressing the 
 bird, " for I can neither whistle nor sing for thinking o' the bonny 
 bumsides and green shaws that I should hae been dandering beside 
 in weather like this — But hae, there's some crumbs t'ye, an ye are 
 sae merry ; and troth ye hae some reason to sing an ye kent it, for 
 your cage comes by nae faut o' your ain, and I may thank my sell 
 that I am closed up in this weary pla«e." 
 
 Ochiltree's soliloquy was disturbed by a peace-officer, who came 
 to summon him to attend the magistrate. So he set forth in awful 
 procession between two poor creatures, neither of them so stout as 
 he was himself, to be conducted into the presence of inquisitorial 
 justice. The people, as the aged prisoner was led along by his 
 decrepit guards, exclaimed to each other, " Eh ! see sic a grey- 
 haired man as that is, to have committed a highway robbery, wi' ae 
 fit in the grave ! " — And the children congratulated the officers, 
 objects of their alternate dread and sport, Puggie Orrock and Jock 
 Ormston, on having a pirisoner as old as themselves. 
 
 Thus marshalled forward, Edie was presented (by no means for 
 
 u 2 
 
3o8 THE ANTIQUARY, 
 
 the first time) before the worshipful Bailie Littlejohn, who, contrary 
 to what his name expressed, was a tall portly magistrate, on whom 
 corporation crusts had not been conferred in vain. He was a 
 zealous loyalist of that zealous time, somewhat rigorous and per- 
 emptory in the execution of his duty, and a good deal inflated with 
 the sense of his own power and importance ; otherwise an honest, 
 well-meaning, and useful citizen. 
 
 " Bring him in ! bring him in ! " he exclaimed ; " upon my word 
 these are awful and unnatural times — the very bedesmen and re- 
 tainers of his Majesty are the first to break his laws^-Here has 
 been an old Blue-Gown committing robbery ! I suppose the next 
 will reward the royal charity which suppUes him with his garb, 
 pension, and begging license, by engaging in high-treason, or sedi- 
 tion at least — But bring him in." 
 
 Edie made his obeisance, and then stood, as usual, firm and erect, 
 with the side of his face turned a little upward, as if to catch every 
 word which the magistrate might addressto him. To the first 
 general questions, which respected only his name and calling, the 
 mendicant answered with readiness and accuracy ; but when the 
 magistrate, having caused his clerk to take down these particulars, 
 began to inquire whereabout the mendicant was on the night when 
 Dousterswivel met with his misfortune, Edie demurred to the 
 motion. " Can ye tell me now, Bailie, you that understands the 
 law, what gude will it do me to answer ony o' your questions .■' " 
 
 " Good ? no good certainly, my friend, except that giving a true 
 account of yourself, if you are innocent, may entitle me to set you 
 at' liberty." 
 
 " But it seems mair reasonajjle to me, now, that you. Bailie, or 
 onybody that has onything to say against me, should prove my guilt, 
 and no to be bidding me prove my innocence." 
 
 " I don't sit here," answered the magistrate, " to dispute points of 
 law with you. I ask you, if you choose to answer my question, 
 whether you were at Ringan Aikwood, the forester's, upon the day I 
 have specified ? " 
 
 " Really, sir, 1 dinna feel myself called on to remember," replied 
 the cautious bedesman. 
 
 " Or whether, in the course of that day or night," continued the 
 magistrate, " you saw Steven, or Steenie, Mucklebackit ? — you knew 
 him, I suppose?" 
 
 "O, brawlie did I ken Sfeenie, puir fallow," replied the prisoner; 
 — "but I canna condeshend on ony particular time I have seen him 
 lately." 
 
 " Were you at the ruins of St. Ruth any thne in the course of 
 that evening ? " 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 309 
 
 " Bailie Littlejohn," said the mendicant, " if it be your honour's 
 pleasure, we'll cut a lang tale short, and I'll just tell ye, I am no 
 minded to answer ony o' thae questions — I'm ower auld a traveller 
 to let my tongue bring me into trouble." 
 
 " Write down," said the magistrate, " that he declines to answer 
 all interrogatories, in respect that by telling the truth he might be 
 brought to trouble." 
 
 " Na, na," said Ochiltree, " I'll no hae that set down as ony part 
 o' my answer — but I just meant to say, that in a' my memory and 
 practice, I never saw ony gude come o' answering idle questions." 
 
 "Write down," said the Bailie, "that, being acquainted with 
 judicial interrogatories by long practice, and having sustained injury 
 by answering questions put to him on such occasions, the declarant 
 refuses " 
 
 " Na, na, Bailie," reiterated Edie, " ye are no to come in on me 
 that gait neither." 
 
 " Dictate the answer yourself then, friend," said the magistrate, 
 " and the clerk will take it down from your own mouth." 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Edie, " that's what I ca' fair play ; I'se do that 
 without loss o' time — Sae, neighbour, ye may just write down, that 
 Edie Ochiltree, the declarant, stands up for the liberty — na, I 
 maunna say that neither — I am nae liberty-boy — -I hae fought again' 
 them in the riots in Dublin — ^besides, I have ate the King's bread 
 mony a day. — Stay, let me see. — ^Ay — write that Edie Ochiltree, 
 the Blue-Gown, stands up for the prerogative — (see that ye spell 
 that word right — ^it's a lang ane) — for the prerogative of the subjects 
 of the land, and winna answer a single word that sail be asked at 
 him this day, unless he sees a reason for't. — Put down that, 
 young man." 
 
 " Then, Edie," said the magistrate, " since you will give me no 
 information on the subject, I must send you back to prison till you 
 shall be delivered in due course of law." 
 
 "Aweel, sir, if it's Heaven's will and man's will, nae doubt I 
 maun submit," replied the mendicant. " I hae nae great objection 
 to the prison, only that a body canna win out o't ; and if it wad 
 please you as weel. Bailie, I wad gie you my word to appear afore 
 the Lords at the Circuit, or in ony other court ye like, on ony day ye 
 are pleased to appoint." 
 
 " I rather think, my good friend," answered Bailie Littlejohn, 
 " your word might be a slender security where your neck may be in 
 some danger. I am apt to think you would suffer the pledge to be 
 forfeited. — If you could give me sufficient security, indeed" 
 
 At this moment the Antiquary and Captain M'Intyre entered the 
 apartment. — " Good morning to you, gentlemen," said the magis- 
 
3IO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 trate ; " you find me toiling in my usual vocation — looking after the 
 iniquities of the peopk — labouring for the res-publica, Mr. Oldbuck 
 — serving the King our master, Captain M'Intyre, — for I suppose 
 you know I have taken up the sword ^ " 
 
 " It is.one of the emblems of justice, doubtless," answered the 
 Antiquary ; " but I should have thought the scales vifould have 
 suited you better, Bailie, especially as you have them ready in the 
 warehouse." 
 
 " Very good, Monkbams — excellent ! but I do not take the sword 
 up as justice, but as a soldier — indeed I should rather say the 
 musket and bayonet — there they stand at the elbow of my gouty 
 chair, for I am scarce fit for drill yet — a slight touch of our old 
 acquaintance ;podagra — I can keep my feet, however, while our 
 sergeant puts me through the manual. I should like to know. 
 Captain M'Intyre, if he follows the regulations correctly — he brings 
 us but awkwardly to the present!' And he hobbled towards his 
 weapon to illustrate his doubts and display his proficiency." 
 
 " I rejoice we have such zealous defenders, Bailie," replied 
 Mr. Oldbuck ; " and I dare say Hector will gratify you by com- 
 municating his opinion on your progress in this new calling. Why, 
 you rival the Hecatd of the ancients, my good sir — a merchant on 
 the Mart, a magistrate in the Townhouse, a soldier on the Links — 
 quid non pro f atria ? But my business is with the justice ; so let 
 commerce and war go slumber." 
 
 "Well, my good sir," said the Bailie, "and what commands have 
 you for me ? " 
 
 " Why, here's an old acquaintance of mine, called Edie Ochil- 
 tree, whom some of your myrmidons have mewed up in jail on 
 account of an alleged assault on that fellow Dousterswivel, of 
 whose accusation I do not believe one word." 
 
 The magistrate here assumed a very grave countenance. " You 
 ought to have been informed that he is accused of robbery, as well 
 as assault ; a very serious matter indeed — it is not often such 
 criminals come under my cognizance." 
 
 " And," replied Oldbuck, " you are tenacious of the opportunity 
 of making the very most of such as occur. But is this poor old 
 man's case really so very bad ? " 
 
 " It is rather out of rule," said the Bailie ; " but as you are in the 
 commission, Monkbams, I have no hesitation to show you Douster- 
 swivel's declaration, and the rest of the precognition." And he 
 put the papers into the Antiquary's hands, who assumed his 
 spectacles, and sat down in a corner to peruse them. 
 
 The officers, in the meantime, had directions to remove their 
 prisoner into another apartment; but before they could do so, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 3ti 
 
 M'lntyre took an opportunity to greet old Edie, and to' slip a guinea 
 into his hand. 
 
 " Lord bless your honour ! " said the old man ; " it's a young 
 soldier's gift, and it should surely thrive wi' an auld ane. I'se no 
 refuse it, though it's beyond my rules ; for if they Steele me up 
 here, my friends are like eneugh to forget me — out o' sight out o' 
 mind, is a true proverb — And it wadna be creditable for me, that 
 am the King's bedesman, and entitled to beg by word of mouth, to 
 be fishing for bawbees out at the jail window wi' the fit o' a stocking 
 and a string." As he made this observation he was conducted out 
 of the apartment. 
 
 Mr. Dousterswivel's declaration contained an exaggerated ac- 
 count of the violence he had sustained, and also of his loss. 
 
 " But what I should have liked to have asked him," said Monk- 
 barns, " would have been his purpose in frequenting the ruins of 
 St. Ruth, so lonely a place, at such an hour, and with such a com- 
 panion as Edie Ochiltree. There is no road lies that way, and 
 I do not conceive a mere passion for the picturesque would carry 
 the German thither in such a night of storm and wind. Depend 
 upon it, he has been about some roguery, and in all piobability 
 hath been caught in a trap of his own setting — Nee lex justitior 
 ulla." 
 
 The magistrate allowed there was something mysterious in that 
 circumstance, and apologized for not pressing Dousterswivel, as 
 his declaration was voluntarily emitted. But for the support of the 
 main charge, he showed the declaration of the Aikwoods concerning 
 the state in which Dousterswivel was found, and establishing the 
 important fact that the mendicant had left the barn in which he 
 was quartered, and did not return to it again. Two people 
 belonging to the Fairport undertaker, who had that night- been 
 employed in attending the funeral of Lady Glenallan, had also 
 given declarations, that, being sent to pursue two suspicious 
 persons who left the ruins of St. Ruth as the futieral approached, 
 and who, it was supposed, might have been pillaging some of the 
 ornaments prepared for the ceremony, they had lost and regained 
 sight of them more than once, owing to the nature of the ground, 
 which was unfavourable for riding, but had at length fairly lodged 
 them both in Mucklebackit's cottage. And one of the men added, 
 that " he, the declarant, having dismounted from his horse, and 
 gone close up to the window of the hut, he saw the old Blue-Gown 
 and young Steenie Mucklebackit, with others, eating and drinking 
 in the inside, and also observed the said Steenie Mucklebackit 
 show a pocketbook to the others ; and declarant has no doubt that 
 Ochiltree and Steenie Mucklebackit were the persons whom he and 
 
312 THE ANTIQUARY, 
 
 his comrade had pursued, as above mentioned." And being inter- 
 rogated -why he did not enter the said cottage, declares, " he had 
 no warrant so to do ; and that as Mucklebackit and his family 
 were understood to be rough-handed folk, he, the declarant, had no 
 desire to meddle or make with their affairs. Causa scientia patet. 
 All which he declares to be truth," &c. 
 
 " What do you say to that body of evidence against your friend .? " 
 said the magistrate, when he had observed the Antiquary had 
 turned the last leaf. 
 
 " Why, were it in the case of any other person, I own I should 
 say it ladktd, prima facie, a little ugly ; but I cannot allow anybody 
 to be in the wrong for beating Dousterswivel — Had I been an hour 
 younger, or had but one single flash of your warlike genius, Bailie, 
 I should have done it myself long ago — He is nebulo nebulonum, 
 an impudent, fraudulent, mendacious quack, that has cost me 
 a hundred pounds by his roguery, and my neighbour Sir Arthur, 
 God knows how much — ^And besides. Bailie, I do not hold him to 
 be a sound friend to Government." 
 
 " Indeed ? " said Bailie Littlejohn ; " if I thought that, it would 
 alter the question considerably." 
 
 " Right ; for, in beating him," observed Oldbuck, " the bedesman 
 must have shown his gratitude to the king by thumping his 
 enemy ; and in robbing him, he would only have plundered an 
 Egyptian, whose wealth it is lawful to spoil. Now, suppose this 
 interview in the ruins of St. Ruth had relation to politics, — and 
 this story of hidden treasure, and so forth, was a bribe from the 
 other side of the water for some great man, or the funds destined 
 to maintain a seditious club ? " 
 
 " My dear sir," said the magistrate, catching at the idea, " you 
 hit my very thoughts ! How fortunate should I be if I could 
 become the humble means of sifting such a matter to the bottom ! 
 — Don't you think we had better call out the volunteers, and put 
 them on duty ? " 
 
 " Not just yet, while podagra deprives them of an essential 
 member of their body. — But will you let me examine Ochiltree?" 
 
 " Certainly ; but you'll make nothing of him. He gave me 
 distinctly to understand he knew the danger of a judicial declara- 
 tion on the part of an accused person, which, to say the truth, has 
 hanged many an honester man than he is." 
 
 " Well, but, Bailie," continued Oldbuck, " you have no objection 
 to let me try him ? " 
 
 " None in the world, Monkbarns. — I hear the sergeant below, — 
 111 rehearse the manual in the meanwhile. — Babby, carry my gun 
 and bayonet down to the room below — it makes less noise there 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 373 
 
 when we ground arms." — And so exit the martial ma^strate, with 
 his maid behind him bearing his weapons. 
 
 "A good squire that wench for a gouty champion," observed 
 Oldbuck. — " Hector, my lad, hook on, hook on — Go with him, boy 
 —keep him employed, man, for half an hour or so — ^butter him 
 with some warlike terms — praise his dress and address." 
 
 Captain M'Intyre, who, like many of his profession, looked down 
 with infinite scorn on those citizen soldiers, who had assumed arms 
 v/ithout any professional title to bear them, rose with great re- 
 luctance, observing that he should not know what to say to 
 Mr. Littlejohn; and that to see an old gouty shopkeeper at- 
 tempting the exercise and duties of a private soldier, was really too 
 ridiculous. 
 
 " It may be so. Hector," said the Antiquary, who seldom agreed 
 with any person in the immediate proposition which was laid down, 
 — " it may possibly be so in this and some other instances ; but at 
 present the country resembles the suitors in a small-debt court, 
 where parties plead in person, for lack of cash to retain the pro- 
 fessed heroes of the bar. I am sure in the one case we never 
 regret the want of the acuteness and eloquence of the lawyers ; and 
 so, I hope, in the other, we may manage to make shift with our 
 hearts and muskets, though we shall lack soijie of the discipline of 
 you martinets." 
 
 " I have no objeption, I am sure, sir, that the whole world should 
 fight if they please, if they will but allow me to be quiet," said 
 Hector, rising with dogged reluctance. 
 
 " Yes, you are a very quiet personage indeed," said his uncle, 
 " whose ardour for quarrelling cannot pass so much as a ^oor phoca 
 sleeping upon the beach ! "' ' , 
 
 But Hector, who saw which way the conversation was tending, 
 and hated all allusions to the foil he had sustained from the fish, 
 made his escape before the Antiquary concluded the sentence. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Well, well, at worst, 'tis neither theft nor coinage, 
 Granting I knew all that you charge me with. 
 What tho' the tomb hath borne a second birth. 
 And given the wealth to one that knew not on't, 
 Yet fair exchange was never robbery. 
 
 Far less pure bounty. Old Play. 
 
 The Antiquary, in order to avail himself of the permission given 
 him to question the accused party, chose rather to go to the apart- 
 
314 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 ment in which Ochiltree was detained, than to make the examina- 
 tion appear formal by bringing him again into the magistrate's 
 office. He found the old man seated by a window which looked 
 out on the sea ; and as he gazed on that prospect, large tears found 
 their way, as if unconsciously, to his eye, and from thence trickled 
 down his cheeks and white beard. His features were, nevertheless, 
 calm and composed, and his whole posture and mien indicated 
 patience and resignation. Oldbuck had approached him without 
 being observed, and roused him out of his musing, by saying 
 kindly, " I am sorry, Edie, to see you so much cast down about 
 this matter." 
 
 The mendicant started, dried his eyes very hastily with the 
 sleeve of his gown, and endeavouring to recover his usual tone of 
 indifference and jocularity, answered, but with a voice more tremu- 
 lous than usual, " I might weel hae judged, Monkbarns, it was you, 
 or the like o' you, was coming in to disturb me — for it's ae great 
 advantage o' prisons and courts o' justice, that ye may greet your 
 een out an ye like, and nane o' the folk that's concerned about 
 them will ever ask you what it's for." 
 
 " Well, Edie," replied Oldbuck, " I hope your present cause of 
 distress is not so bad but it may be removed." 
 
 " And I had hoped, Monkbarns," answered the mendicant, in a 
 tone of reproach, " that ye had ken'd me better than to think that 
 this bit trifling trouble o' my ain wad bring tears into my auld een, 
 that hae seen far different kind o' distress. — Na, na ! — But here's 
 been the puir lass, Caxon's. daughter, seeking comfort, and has 
 gotten unco little — there's been nae speerings o' Taffril's gunbrig 
 since the last gale ; and folk report on the key that a king's ship 
 had struck on the Reef of Rattray, and a' hands lost — God forbid ! 
 for as sure as you live, Monkbarns, the puir lad Lovel, that ye 
 liked sae weel, must have perished." 
 
 " God forbid indeed ! " echoed the Antiquary, turning pale ; " I 
 would rather Monkbarns-House were on fire. My poor dear friend 
 and coadjutor ! — I wiU down to the quay instantly." 
 
 "I'm sure ye'll learn naething mair than I hae tauld ye, sir,'' 
 said Ochiltree, " for the officer-folk here were very civil (that is, for 
 the like o' them), and lookit up a' their letters and authorities, and 
 could throw nae light on't either ae way or another." 
 
 " It can't be true— it shall not be true ! " said the Antiquary, 
 " and I won't beUeve it if it were ! — Taffril's an excellent seaman — 
 and Lovel (my poor Lovel ! ) has all the qualities of a safe and 
 pleasant companion by land or by sea — one, Edie, whom, from the 
 ingenuousness of his disposition, I would choose, did I ever go a 
 sea voyage (which I never do, unless across the ferry), fragilem 
 
TBE ANTIQUARY. '315 
 
 mecum solvere pkaselum, to be the companion of my rist, as one 
 against whom the elements could nourish no vengeance. No, Edie, 
 it is not, and cannot be true — it is a fiction of the idle jade Rumour, 
 whom I wish hanged with her trumpet about her neck, that serves 
 only with its screech-owl tones to fright honest folks out of their 
 senses. — Let me know how you got into this scrape of your own." 
 
 " Are ye axing me as a magistrate, Monkbarns, or is it just for 
 your ain satisfaction ? " 
 
 " For my own satisfaction solely," replied the Antiquary. 
 
 " Put up your pocketbook and your keelyvine pen then, for I 
 downa speak out an ye hae writing materials in your hands — 
 they're a scaur to unlearned folk like me — Od, ane o' the clerks in 
 the neist room will clink down, in black and white, as muckle as 
 wad hang a man, before ane kens what he's saying." 
 
 Monkbarns complied with the old man's humour, and put up his 
 memorandum-book. 
 
 Edie then went with great frankness through the part of the 
 story already known to the reader, informing the Antiquary of the 
 scene which he had witnessed between Dousterswivel and his 
 patron in the ruins of St. Ruth, and frankly confessing that he 
 could not resist the opportunity of decoying the adept once more 
 to visit the tomb of Misticot, with the purpose of taking a comic 
 revenge upon him for his quackery. He had easily persuaded 
 Steenie,. who was a bold thoughtless young fellow, to engage in the 
 frolic along with him, and the jest had been inadvertently carried a 
 great deal farther than was designed. Concerning the pocket-book, 
 he explained that he had expressed his surprise and sorrow as soon 
 as he found it had been inadvertently brought off ; and that publicly, 
 before all theanmates of the cottage, Steenie had undertaken to 
 return it the next day, and had only been prevented by his un- 
 timely fate. 
 
 The Antiquary pondered a moment, and then said, "Your 
 account seems very probable, Edie, and I believe it from what I 
 know of the parties — but I think it likely that you know a great 
 deal more than you have thought it proper to tell me, about this 
 matter of the treasure-trove — I suspect you have acted the part of 
 the Lar Familiaris in Plautus — a sort of Brownie, Edie, to speak 
 to your comprehension, who watched over hidden treasures. — I do 
 bethink me you were the first person we met when Sir Arthur made 
 his successful attack upon Misticot's grave, and also that when the 
 labourers began to flag, you, Edie, were again the first to leap into 
 the trench, and to make the discovery of the treasure. Now you 
 must explain all this to me, unless you would have me use you as 
 iU as Eudio does Staphyla in the Atilularia" 
 
3i6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "Lordsake, sir,'' replied the mendicant, "what do I ken about 
 your Howlowlaria? — it's mair like a dog's language than a 
 man's." 
 
 " You knew, however, of the box of treasure being there ? " con- 
 tinued Oldbuck. 
 
 " Dear sir," answered Edie, assuming a countenance of great 
 simplicity, " what likelihood is there o' that .■' d'ye think sae puir 
 an auld creature as me wad hae kend o' sic a like thing without 
 getting some gude out o't? — and ye wot weel I sought nane 
 and gat nane, like Michael Scott's man. What concern could I 
 hae wi't?" 
 
 " That's just what I want you to explain to me," said Oldbuck ; 
 " for I am positive you knew it was there." 
 
 " Your honour's a positive man, Monkbarns — and, for a positive 
 man, I must needs allow ye're often in the right." 
 
 " You allow, then, Edie, that my belief is well founded ? " 
 
 Edie nodded acquiescence. 
 
 " Then please to explain to me the whole affair from beginning 
 to end," said the Antiquary. 
 
 " If it were a secret o' mine, Monkbarns,'' replied the beggar, 
 " ye suldna ask twice ; for I hae aye said ahint your back, that, for 
 a' the nonsense maggots that ye whiles take into your head, ye are 
 the maist wise and discreet o' a' our country gentles. But I'se een 
 be open-hearted wi' you, and tell you that this is a friend's secret, 
 and that they suld draw me wi' wild horses, or saw me asunder, as 
 they did the children of Ammon, sooner than I would speak a 
 word mair about the matter, excepting this, that there was nae 
 ill intended, but muckle gude, and that the purpose was to serve 
 them that are worth twenty hundred o' me. But there's nae law, I 
 trow, that makes it a sin to ken where ither folk's siller is, if we 
 dinna pit hand till't oursell ? " 
 
 Oldbuck walked once or twice up and down the room in pro- 
 found thought, endeavouring to find some plausible reason for 
 transactions of a nature so mysterious, but his ingenuity was 
 totally at fault. He then placed himself before the prisoner. 
 
 " This story of yours, friend Edie, is an absolute enigma, and 
 would require a second CEdipus to solve it — who CEdipus was, I 
 will tell you some other time, if you remind me — However, 
 whether it be owing to the wisdom or to the maggots with which 
 you compliment me, I am strongly disposed to believe that you 
 have spoken the truth, the rather that you have not made any of 
 those obtestations of the superior powers, which I observe you and 
 your comrades always make use of when you mean to depeive 
 folks." (Here Edie could not suppress a smile.) " If, therefore, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 317 
 
 you will answer me one question, I will endeavour to procure 
 your liberation." 
 
 " If ye'll let me hear the question," ^aid Edie, with the caution 
 of a canny Scotchman, " I'll tell you whether I'll answer it or no." 
 
 " It is simply," said the Antiquary, " Did Dousterswivel know 
 anything about the concealment of the chest of bullion ? " 
 
 " He, the ill-fa'ard loon ! " answered Edie, with much frankness 
 of manner, " there wad hae been little speerings o't had Dustan- 
 snivel ken'd it was there — it wad hae been better in the black 
 dog's hause." 
 
 " I thought as much," said Oldbuck. "Well, Edie, if I procure 
 your freedom, you must keep your day, and appear to clear me of 
 the bail-bond, for these are not times for prudent men to incur 
 forfeitures, unless you can point out another Aulain auri ple7iam 
 quadrilibre77i — another Search No. /." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the beggar, shaking his head, " I doubt the bird's 
 flown that laid thae golden eggs — for I winna ca' her goose, 
 though that's the gait it stands in the story-buick — But I'll keep 
 my day, Monkbarns ; ye'se- no loss a penny by me — And troth I 
 wad fain be out again, now the weather's fine — and then I hae the 
 best chance o' hearing the first news o' my friends." 
 
 " Well, Edie, as the bouncing and thumping beneath has some- 
 what ceased, I presume Bailie Littlejohn has dismissed his military 
 preceptor, and has retired from the labours of Mars to those of 
 Themis — I will have some conversation with him — But I cannot 
 and will not believe any of those wretched news you were 
 telling me." 
 
 " God send your honour may be right ! " said the mendicant, as 
 Oldbuck left the room. 
 
 The Antiquary found the magistrate, exhausted with the fatigues 
 of the drill, reposing in his gouty chair, humming the air, " How 
 merrily we live that soldiers be ! " and between each bar comforting 
 himself with a spoonful of mock-turtle soup. He ordered a similar 
 refreshment for Oldbuck, who declined it, observing, that, not being 
 a military man, he did not feel inclined to break his habit of keep- 
 ing regular hours for meals — "Soldiers like you. Bailie, must 
 snatch their food as they find means and time. But I am sorry to 
 hear ill news of young Taffril's brig." 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow ! " said the Bailie, " he was a credit to the 
 town — much distinguished on the first of June." 
 
 " But," said Oldbuck, " I am shocked to hear you talk of him in 
 the preterite tense." 
 
 " Troth, I fear there may be too much reason for it, Monkbarns ; 
 and yet let us hope the best. The accident is said to have 
 
3i8 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 happened in the Rattray reef 'of rocks, about twenty miles to the 
 northward, near Dirtenalan Bay — I have sent to inquire about it 
 — and your nephew run out himself as if he had been flying to get 
 the Gazette of a victory." 
 
 Here Hector entered, exclaiming as he 5ame in, " I believe it's 
 aU a damned lie — I can't find the least authority for it, but general 
 rumour." 
 
 "And pray, Mr. Hector," said his uncle, "if it had been true, 
 whose fault would it have been that Lovel was on board ? " 
 
 " Not mine, I am sure," answered Hector ; " it would have been 
 only my misfortune." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said his uncle ; " I should not have thought of 
 that." 
 
 " Why, sir, with all your inclination to find me in the wrong," 
 replied the young soldier, " I suppose you will own my intention 
 was not to blame in this case. I did my best to hit Lovel, and if 
 I had been successful, 'tis clear my scrape would have been his, and 
 his scrape would have been mine." 
 
 " And whom or what do you intend to hit now, that you are 
 lugging with you that leathern magazine there, marked Gun- 
 powder ? " 
 
 " I must be prepared for Lord Glenallan's moors on the twelfth, 
 sir," said M'Intyre. 
 
 " Ah, Hector ! thy great chasse, as the French call it, would take 
 place best — 
 
 'Omne cum Proteus pecus egit altos 
 Visere montes ' ■ — 
 
 Could you meet but with a martial fhoca, instead of an unwarlike 
 heath-bird." 
 
 " The devil take the seal, sir, or phoca, if you choose to call it 
 so — It's rather hard one can never hear the end of a little piece of 
 folly like that." 
 
 " Well, well," said Oldbuck, " I am glad you have the grace to 
 be ashamed of it — ^As I detest the whole race of Nimrods, I wish 
 them all as well matched — Nay, never start off at a jest, man — I 
 have done with the/^oca — though, I dare say, the Bailie could tell 
 us the value of seal-skins just now." 
 
 " They are up," said the magistrate, " they are well up — the 
 fishing has been unsuccessful lately." 
 
 " We can bear witness to that," said the tormenting Antiquary, 
 who was delighted with the hank this incident had given him over 
 the young sportsman : " One word more. Hector, and 
 
 ' We'll hang a seal-skin on thy recreant limbs,' 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 319 
 
 Aha, my boy — Come, never mind it ; I must go to business. — 
 Bailie, a word with you — you must take bail — moderate bail — you 
 understand — for old Ochiltree's appearance." 
 
 " You don't consider what you ask," said the Bailie ; " the 
 offence is assault and robbery." 
 
 " Hush ! not a word about it," said the Antiquary. " I gave you a 
 hint before — I will possess you more fully hereafter — I promise 
 you, there is a secret." 
 
 " But, Mr. Oldbuck, if the state is concerned, I, who do the 
 whole drudgery business here, really have a title to be consulted, 
 and until I am " 
 
 "Hush! hush!" said the Antiquary, winking and putting his 
 finger to his nose, — "you shall have the full credit, the entire 
 management, whenever matters are ripe. But this is an obstinate 
 old fellow, who will not hear of two people being as yet let into 
 his mystery, and he has not fully acquainted me with the clew to 
 Dousterswivel's devices." 
 
 " Aha ! so we must tip that fellow the alien act, I suppose? " 
 
 " To say truth, I wish you would." 
 
 " Say no more," said the magistrate ; "it shall forthwith be 
 done ; he shall be removed tanquam suspect — I think that's one 
 of your own phrases, Monkbarns ? " 
 
 " It is classical, Bailie — you improve." 
 
 "Why, public business has of late pressed upon me so much, that I 
 have been obliged to take my foreman into partnership. — I have had 
 two several correspondences with the Under Secretary of State — 
 one on the proposed tax on Riga hemp-seed, and the other on 
 putting down political societies. So you might as well communi- 
 cate to me as much as you know of this old fellow's discovery of a 
 plot against the state." 
 
 " I will, instantly, when I am master of it," replied Oldbuck — 
 " I hate the trouble of managing such matters myself — Remember, 
 however, I did not say decidedly a plot against the state ; I only 
 say, I hope to discover, by this man's means, a foul plot." 
 
 " If it be a plot at all, there must be treason in it, or sedition at 
 least," said the Bailie — "Will you bail him for four hundred 
 merks ? " 
 
 " Four Hundred merks for an old Blue-Gown ! Think on the act 
 1701 I'egulating bail-bonds ! — Strike off a cipher from the sum — I 
 am content to bail hiha for forty merks." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Oldbuck, everybody in Fairport is always willing to 
 oblige you — and besides, I know that you are a prudent man, and 
 one that would be as unwilling to lose forty, as four hundred 
 merks. So I will accept your bail — meopericido — what say you to 
 
3=o THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 that law phrase again ? — I had it from a learned counsel — I will 
 vouch it, my lord, he said, meo periculo" 
 
 "And I will vouch for Edie Ochiltree, meo periculo, in like 
 manner,'"' said Oldbuck. "So let your cterk draw out the bail- 
 bond, and I will sign it." 
 
 When this ceremony had been performed, the Antiquary com- 
 municated to Edie the joyful tidings that he was once more at 
 liberty, and directed him to make the best of his way to Monk- 
 barns-House, to which he himself returned with his nephew, after 
 having perfected their good work. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 Full of wise saws and modern instances. 
 
 As You Like it. 
 
 " I WISH to Heaven, Hector," said the Antiquary, next morning 
 after breakfast, "you would spare our nerves, and not be keeping 
 snapping that arquebuss of yours." 
 
 " Well, sir, I'm sure I'm sorry to disturb you," said his nephew, 
 still handling his fowling-piece ; " but it's a capital gun ; it's a Joe 
 Manton, that cost forty guineas.'' 
 
 " A fool and his money are soon parted, nephew — there is a Joe 
 Miller for your Joe Manton," answered the Antiquary ; " I am glad 
 you have so many guineas to throw away." 
 
 " Every one has their fancy, uncle, — you are fond of books." 
 
 " Ay, Hector," said the uncle, " and if my collection were yours, 
 you would make it fly to the gunsmith, the horse-market, the dog- 
 ireaker, — Coemptos undique nobiles libros — mutare loricis Iberis." 
 
 "1 could not use your books, my dear uncle," said the young 
 soldier, " that's true ; and you will do well to provide for their 
 being in better hands. — But don't let the faults of my head fall on 
 my heart — I would not part with a Cordery that belonged to an old 
 friend, to get a set of horses like Lord Glenallan's." 
 
 " I don't think you would, lad, I don't think you would," said his 
 softening relative—" I love to teaze you a little sometimes ; it keeps 
 up the spirit of discipline and habit of subordination — You will pass 
 your time happily here having me to command you, instead of Cap- 
 tain, or Colonel, or ' Knight in Arms,' as Milton has it ; and instead 
 of the French," he continued, relapsing into his ironical humour, 
 "you have the Gens humidaponti — for, as Virgil says, 
 
 ' Sternunt se somno diversse in littore phocae,' 
 
 which might be rendered, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 321 
 
 ' Here phocae slumber on the beach, 
 Within our Highland Hector's reach.' 
 
 Nay, if you grow angry I have done. — Besides, I see old Edie in 
 the court-yard, with whom I have business, Good-by, Hector — 
 Do you remember how she splashed into the sea like her master 
 Proteus, et sejactu dedit aquor in altum f" 
 
 M'Intyre, — waiting, however, till the door was shut, — then gave 
 way to the natural impatience of his temper. 
 
 " My uncle is the best man in the world, and in his way the 
 kindest ; but rather than hear any more about that cnrs&d. phoca, as 
 he is pleased to call it, I would exchange for the West Indies, and 
 never see his face again." 
 
 Miss M'Intyre, gratefully attached to- her uncle, and passionately 
 fond of her brother, was, on such occasions, the usual envoy of 
 reconciliation. She hastened to meet her uncle on his return, beforfe 
 he entered the parlour. 
 
 " Well, now. Miss Womankind, what is the meaning of that im- 
 ploring countenance.'' — -has Juno done any more mischief?" 
 
 " No, uncle ; but Juno's master is in such fear of your joking 
 him about the seal — I assure you, he feels it much more than you 
 would wish ; — it's very silly of him, to be sure ; but th'en you can 
 turn everybody so sharply into ridicule " 
 
 " Well, my dear," answered Oldbuck, propitiated by the compli- 
 ment, " I will rein in my satire, and, if possible, speak no more of 
 thsphoca — I will not even speak of sealing, a letter, but say umphf 
 and give a nod to you when I want the wax-light — I am not moni- 
 ioribus asper, but. Heaven knows, the most mild, quiet, and easy of 
 human beings, whom sister, niece, and nephew, guide just as 
 best pleases them." 
 
 With this little panegyric on his own docility, Mr. Oldbuck 
 entered the parlour, and piroposed to his nephew a walk to the 
 Mussel-crag. " I have some questions to ask of a" woman at 
 Mucklebackit's cottage," he observed, " and I would willingly have 
 a sensible witness with me — so, for fault of a better. Hector, I must 
 be contented with you." 
 
 "There is old Edie, sir, or Caxon — could not they do better 
 than me?" answered M'Intyre, feeling somewhat .alarmed at the 
 prospect of a long tete-k-tSte with his uncle. 
 
 " Upon my word, young man, you turn me over to pretty com- 
 panions, and I am quite sensible of your politeness," replied Mr. 
 Oldbuck. " No, sir, I intend the old Blue-Gown shall go with me 
 — not as a competent witness, for he is at present; as our friend 
 Bailie Littlejohn says (blessings on his learning ]), tanquam sus- 
 pechis, and you are suspicione major, as our law has it." 
 
 X 
 
32a THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " I wish I were a major, sir," said Hector, catching only the last 
 and, to a soldier's ear, the most impressive word in the sentence, — 
 " but, without money or interest, there is little chance of getting the 
 step." 
 
 " Well, well, most doughty son of Priam," said the Antiquary, 
 "be ruled by your friends, and there's no saying what may happen — 
 Come away with me, and you shall see what may be useful to you 
 should you ever sit upon a court-martial, sir." 
 
 " I have been on many a regimental court-martial, sir,'' answered 
 Captain M'Intyre. — " But here's a new cane for you." 
 
 " Much obliged, much obliged." 
 
 " I bought it from our drum-major," added Mac-Intyre, " who 
 came into our regiment from the Bengal army when it came down 
 the Red Sea. It was cut on the banks of the Indus, I assure 
 you." 
 
 " " Upon my word, 'tis a fine ratan, and well replaces that which the 
 ^h Bah ! what was I going to say ? " 
 
 The party, consisting of the Antiquary, his nephew, and the old 
 beggar, now took the sands towards Mussel-crag — the former in the 
 very highest mood of communicating information, and the others, 
 under a sense of former obligation, and some hope for future favours, 
 decently attentive to receive it. The uncle and nephew walked 
 together, the mendicant about a step and a half behind, just near 
 enough for his patron to speak to him by a slight inclination of his 
 neck, and without the trouble of turning round. Petrie, in his Essay 
 on Good-breeding, dedicated to the magistrates of Edinburgh, 
 recommends, upon his own experience, as tutor in a family of dis- 
 tinction, this attitude to all led captains, tutors, dependents, and 
 bottle-holders of every description. Thus escorted, the , Antiquary 
 moved along full of his learning, like a lordly man of war, and every 
 now and then yawing to starboard and larboard to discharge a 
 broadside upon his followers. 
 
 " And so it is your opinion," said he to the mendicant, " that this 
 windfall — this area auri, as Plautus has it, will not greatly avail 
 Sir Arthur in his necessities ? " 
 
 " Unless he could find ten times as much," said the beggar, " and 
 that I am sair doubtful of; — I heard Puggie Horrock, and the tother 
 thief of a sheriff-officer, or messenger, speaking about it — and 
 things are ill aff when the like o' them can speak crousely about 
 ony gentleman's affairs. I doubt Sir Arthur will be in stane 
 wa's for debt, unless there's swift help and certain.?' 
 
 " You speak like a fool,'.' said the Antiquary. — " Nephew, it is a 
 remarkable thing, ,that in this happy country no man can be 
 legally imprisoned for debt." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 323 
 
 " Indeed, sir ?" said M'Intyre ; " 1 never knew that before — that 
 part of our law would suit some of our mess well." 
 
 " And if they arena confined for debt," said Ochiltree, " what is't 
 that tempts sae mony puir creatures to bide in the tolbooth o' 
 Fairport yonder i* — they a' say they were put there by their credi- 
 tors — Od ! they maun like it better than I do, if the/re there o' free 
 will." 
 
 " A very natural observation, Edie, and many of your betters 
 would make the same ; but it is founded entirely upon ignorance 
 of the feudal system — Hector, be so good as to attend, unless you 
 are looking out for another ^Ahem ! " (Hector compelled him- 
 self to give attention at this hint.) — " And you, Edie, it may be 
 useful to you, rerum cognoscere causas. The nature and origin 
 of warrant for caption is a thing hand alienum a Scavolce studiis. 
 You must know then, once more, that nobody can be arrested in 
 Scotland for debt." 
 
 " I haena muckle concern wi' that, Monkbarns," said the old 
 man, " for naebody wad trust a bodle to a gaberlunzie." 
 
 " I pr'ythee, peace, man As a compulsitor, therefore, of pay- 
 ment — that being a thing to wh^ch no debtor is naturally inclined, 
 as I have too much reason to warrant from the experience I have 
 had with my own, — we had first the letters of four forms, a sort of 
 gentle invitation, by which our sovereign lord the king, interesting 
 himself, as a monarch should, in the regulation of his subjects' pri- 
 vate aifairs, at first by mild exhortation, and afterwards by letters 
 
 of more strict enjoyment and more hard compulsion What do 
 
 you see extraordinary about that bird, Hector.? — it's but aseamaw." 
 
 " It's a pictarnie, sir," said Edie. 
 
 " Well, what an if it were — what does that signify at present ? — 
 But I see you're impatient ; so I will waive the letters of four forms, 
 and come to the modern process of diligence. — -You, suppose, now, 
 a man's committed to prison because he cannot pay his debt? 
 Quite otherwise : the truth is the king is so good as to interfere at 
 the request of the creditor, and to send the debtor his royal com- 
 mand to do him justice within a certain time — fifteen days, or six, 
 as the case may be. Well, the man resists and disobeys:;— what 
 follows ? Why, that he be lawfully and rightfully declared a rebel to 
 our gracious sovereign, whose command he has disobeyed, and that 
 by three blasts of a horn at the market-place of Edinburgh, the 
 metropolis of Scotland. And he is then legally imprisoned, not on 
 account of any civil debt, but because of his ungrateful contempt of 
 the royal mandate. What say you to that. Hector ? — there's some- 
 thing you never knew before ? " * 
 
 " No, uncle ; but, I own, if I wanted money to pay my debts, I 
 
 X 2 
 
324 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 would rather thank the king to send me some, than to declare me a 
 rebel for not doing what I could not do." 
 
 "Your education hals not led you to consider these things," 
 replied his uncle ; " you are incapable of estimating the elegance of 
 the legal fiction, and the manner in which it reconciles that duress, 
 which, for the protection of commerce, it has been found necessary 
 to extend towards refractory debtors, with the most scrupulous 
 attention to the liberty of the subject." 
 
 " I don't know, sir," answered the unenlightened Hector ; " but if a 
 man must pay his debt or go to jail, it signifies but little whether he' 
 goes as a debtor or a rebel, I should think. But you say this 
 command of the king's gives a licence of so many days — Now, 
 egad, were I in the scrape, I would beat a march and leave the 
 king and the creditor to settle it among themselves before they 
 came to extremities." 
 
 " So wad I," said Edie ; " I wad gie them leg-bail to a cer- 
 tainty." 
 
 " True," replied Monkbarns ; "but those whom the law suspects 
 of being unwilling to abide her formal visit, she proceeds with by 
 means of a shorter and more unceremonious call, as dealing with 
 persons on whom patience and favour would be utterly thrown 
 away." 
 
 " Ay," said Ochiltree, " that will be what they ca' the fugie- war- 
 rants — I hae some skeel in them. There's Border-warrants too in ■ 
 the south country, unco rash uncanny things ; — I was taen up on 
 ane at Saint James's Fair, and keepit in the auld kirk at Kelso the 
 haill day and night ; and a cauld goustie place it was, I'se assure 
 ye. — But whatna wife's this, wi' her creel on her back ? — It's puir 
 Maggie hersell, I'm thinking." 
 
 It was so. The poor woman's sense of her loss, if not diminished, 
 was become at least mitigated by the inevitable necessity of attend- 
 ing to the means of supporting her family ; and her salutation to 
 Oldbuck was made in an odd mixture between the usual language 
 of solicitation with which she plied her customers, and the tone of 
 lamentation for her recent calamity. 
 
 " How's a' wi' ye the day, Monkbarns ? — I havena had the grace 
 yet to come down to thank your honour for the credit ye did puir 
 Steenie, wi' laying his head in a rath grave, puir fallow." — Here she' 
 whimpered and wiped her eyes with the corner of her blue apron — 
 " But the fishing comes on no that ill, though the gudeman hasna 
 had the heart to gang to sea himsell— Atweel I wad fain tell him it 
 wad do him gude to put a hand to wark— but I'm maist fear'd to 
 speak to him — and it's an unco thing to hear ane o' us speak 
 that gate o' a man — However, I hae some dainty caller baddies, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 325 
 
 and they sail be but three shillings the dozen, for I hae nae pith 
 to drive a bargain e'ennow, and maun just tak what ony Christian 
 body will gie, wi' few words and nae flyting." 
 
 " What shall we do, Hector ? " said Oldbuck, pausing : " I got 
 into disgrace with my womankind for making a bad bargain with 
 hgr before. These maritime animals, Hector, are unlucky to our 
 family." 
 
 " Pooh, sir, what woujd you do ? — give poor Maggie what she 
 asks, or allow me to send a dish of fish up to Monkbarns.'' 
 
 And he held out the money to her ; but Maggie drew back her 
 Jiand. " Na, na. Captain ; ye're ower young and ower free o' your 
 siller — ye should never tak a fish-wife's first bode ; and troth I think 
 maybe a flyte wi' the auld housekeeper at Monkbarns, or Miss 
 Grizel, would do me some gude — And I want to see what that helli- 
 ■cate quean Jenny Ritherout's doing — folk said she wasna weel — 
 She'll be vexing hersell about Steenie, the silly tawpie, as if 
 he wad ever hae lookit ower his shouther at the like o' her ! — Weel, 
 -Monkbarns, they're braw caller baddies, and they'll bid me unco 
 little indeed at the house if ye want crappit-heads the day." 
 
 And so on she paced with her burden, grief, gratitude for the 
 sympathy of her betters, and the habitual love of traffic and of 
 gain, chasing each other through her thoughts. 
 
 " And now that we are before the door of their hut," said Ochil- 
 tree, " I wad fain ken, Monkbarns, what has gar'd ye plague yoursell 
 wi' me a' this length ? I tell ye sincerely I hae nae pleasure in 
 ganging in there. I downa bide to think how the young hae fa'en 
 on a' sides o' me, and left me an useless auld stump wi' hardly a 
 green leaf on't." 
 
 " This old woman," said Oldbuck, " sent you on a message to 
 the Earl of Glenallan, did she not?" 
 
 " Ay ! " said the surprised mendicant ; " how ken ye that sae 
 weel?" 
 
 " Lord Glenallan told me himself," answered the Antiquary.; 
 " so there is no delation — no breach of trust on your part ; and as 
 he wishes me to take her evidence down on some important family 
 matters, I chose to bring you with me, because in her situation, 
 hovering between dotage and consciousness, it is possible that your 
 voice and appearance may awaken trains of recollection which I 
 should otherwise have no means of exciting. The human mind 
 what are you about, Hector ? " 
 
 " I was only whistling for the dog, sir," replied the Captain ; 
 ^' she always roves too wide — I knew I should be troublesome to 
 you." 
 
 " Not at all, not at all," said Oldbuck, resuming the subject of his 
 
326 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 disquisition. — " The human mind is to be treated like a skein of 
 ravelled silk, where you must cautiously secure one free end before 
 you can make any progress in disentangling it." 
 
 " I ken naething about that," said the gaberlunzie ; "but an my auld 
 acquaintance be herseU, or onythiiig like hersell, she may come to 
 wind us a pirn. It's fearsome baith to see and hear her when she 
 wampishes about her arms, and gets to her English, and speaks as 
 if she were a prent book, let a-be an auld fisher's wife. But, indeed, 
 she had a grand education, and was muckle taen out afore she 
 married an unco bit beneath hersell. She's aulder than me by half 
 a score years — but I mind weel eneugh they made as muckle wark 
 about her making a half-merk marriage wi' Simon Mucklebackit, 
 this Saunders's father, as if she had been ane of the gentry. But 
 she got into favour again, and then she lost it again, as I hae heard 
 her son say, when he was a muckle chield ; and then they got 
 muckle siller, and left the Countess's land, and settled here. But 
 things never throve wi' them. Howsomever, she's a weel-educate 
 woman, and an she win to her English, as I hae heard her do 
 at an orra time, she may come to fickle us a'." 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Life ebbs from such old age, unmark'd and silent, 
 
 As the slow neap-tide leaves yon stranded galley. — 
 
 Late she rock'd merrily at the least impulse 
 
 That wind or wave could give ; but jiow her keel 
 
 Is settling on the sand, her mast has ta'en 
 
 An angle with the sky, from which it shifts not. 
 
 Each wave receding shakes her less and less, 
 
 Till, bedded on the strand, she shall remain 
 
 Useless as motionless. Old Play. 
 
 As the Antiquary lifted the latch of the hut, he was surprised 
 to hear the shrill tremulous voice of Elspeth chanting forth an 
 old ballad in a wild and doleful recitative. 
 
 " The herring loves the merry moonlight, 
 The mackerel loves the wind, 
 But the oyster loves the dredging sang. 
 For they come of a gentle kind." 
 
 A diligent collector of these legendary scraps of ancient poetry, 
 his foot refused to cross the threshold when his ear was thus 
 arrested, and his hand instinctively took pencil and memorandum- 
 book. From time to time the old woman spoke as if to the 
 children — " O ay, hinnies, whisht ! whisht ! and I'll begin a bonnier 
 ane than that— 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 3''7 
 
 " Now haud your tongue, baith wife and carle, 
 And listen, great and sma'. 
 And I will sing of Glenallan's Earl 
 That fought on the red Harlaw. 
 
 " The cronach's cried on Bennachie, 
 And doun the Don an a', 
 And hieland and lawland may mournfu' be 
 ■For the sair field of Harlaw. 
 
 I dinna mind the neist verse wee! — my memory's failed, and there's 
 unco thoughts come ower me — God keep us frae temptation ! " 
 
 Here her voice sunk in indistinct muttering. 
 
 "It's a historical ballad," said Oldbuck, eagerly, "a genuine 
 and undoubted fragment o"f minstrelsy ! — Percy would admire its 
 simplicity- — Ritson could not impugn its authenticity." 
 
 " Ay, but it's a sad thing," said Ochiltree, " to see human na- 
 ture sae far owertaen as to be skirling at auld sangs on the back of 
 a loss like hers." 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! " said the Antiquary — " she has gotten the thread 
 of the story again." — ^And as he spoke, she sung — 
 
 " They saddled a hundred milk-white steeds, 
 They hae bridled a hundred black. 
 With a chafron of steel on each horse's head, 
 And a good knight upon his back." — 
 
 " Chafron ! " exclaimed the Antiquary, — " equivalent, perhaps, to 
 cheveronj — the word's worth a dollar," — and down it went in his 
 red book. > ' 
 
 " They hadna ridden a mile, a mile, 
 A mile, but barely ten. 
 When Donald came branking down the brae, 
 Wi' twenty thousand men. 
 
 " Their tartans they were waving wide. 
 Their glaives were glancing clear, 
 The pibrochs rung frae side to side, 
 Would deafen ye to hear. 
 
 " The great Earl in his stirrups stood 
 That Highland host to see : 
 ' Now here a knight that's stout and good 
 May prove a jeopardie : 
 
 " * What wouldst thou do, my squire so gay, 
 That rides beside my reyne. 
 Were ye Glenallan's Earl the day, 
 And I were Roland Cheyne ? 
 
328 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " ' To turn the rein were sin and shame, 
 To fight were wondrous peril, 
 What would ye do now, Roland Cheyne, 
 Were ye Glenallan's Earl?' 
 
 Ye maun ken, hinnies, that this Roland Cheyne, for as poor and 
 auld as I sit in the chimney-neuk, was my forbear, and an awfu' 
 man he was that day in the fight, -but specially after the Earl had 
 fa'en, for he blamed himsell for the counsel he gave, to fight before 
 Mar came up wi' Mearns, and Aberdeen, and Angus." 
 
 Her voice rose and became more animated as she recited the 
 warlike counsel of her ancestor — 
 
 " ' Were I Glenallan's Earl this tide. 
 And ye were Roland Cheyne, 
 The spur should be in my horse's side. 
 And the bridle upon his mane. 
 
 " ' If they hae twenty thousand blades, 
 And we twice ten times ten. 
 Yet they hae but their tartan plaids. 
 And we are mail-clad men. 
 
 " ' My horse shall ride through ranks sae rude. 
 As through the moorland fern, 
 Then ne'er let the gentle Norman blude 
 Grow cauld for Highland kerne.' " 
 
 I 
 
 " Do you hear that, nephew.?" said Oldbuck ; "you observe your 
 Gaelic ancestors were not held in high repute formerly by the Low- 
 land warriors." 
 
 " I hear," said Hector, "a silly old woman sing a silly old song. 
 I am surprised, sir, that you, who will not listen to Ossian's songs 
 of Selma, can be pleased with such trash ; I vow, I have not seen 
 or heard a worse halfpenny ballad ; I don't believe you could match 
 it in any pedlar's pack in the country. I should be ashamed to 
 think that the honour of the Highlands could be affected by such 
 doggrel." — And, tossing up his head, he snuffed the air in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 Apparently the old woman heard the sound of their voices ; for, 
 ceasing her song, she called out, " Come in, sirs, come in — good- 
 will never halted at the door-stane." 
 
 They entered, and found to their surprise Elspeth alone, sitting 
 " ghastly on the hearth," like the personification of Old Age in the 
 Hunter's song of the Owl,* " wrinkled, tattered, vile, dim-eyed, dis- 
 coloured, torpid." 
 
 " They're a' out," she said, as they entered ; " but an ye will sit 
 a blink, somebody, will be in. If ye hae business wi' my gude- 
 
THE ANTIQUARY; 329 
 
 daughter, or my son, they'll be in belyve, — I never speak on busi- 
 ness mysell — Bairns, gie them seats — the bairns are a' gane out, I 
 trow," — looking around her ; — " I was crooning to keep them quiet 
 a wee while since ; but they hae cruppen out some gate — Sit down, 
 sirs, they'll be in belyve ; " and she dismissed her spindle from her 
 hand to twirl upon the floor, and soon seemed exclusively occupied 
 in regulating its motion, as unconscious of the presence of the 
 strangers as she appeared indifferent to their rank or business 
 there. 
 
 " I wish," said Oldbuck, '' she would resume that canticle, or 
 legendary fragment— I always suspected there was a skirmisli of 
 cavalry before the main battle of the Harlaw." * 
 
 " If your honour pleases," said Edie, " had ye not better proceed 
 to the business that brought us a' here ? I'se engage to get ye the 
 sang ony time." 
 
 " I believe you are right, 'Edis—rDo man7U — -I submit. But how 
 shall we manage ? She sits there, the very image of dotage — speak 
 to her, Edie — try if you can make her recollect having sent you to 
 Glenallan-House." 
 
 Edie rose accordingly, and crossing the floor, placed himself in 
 the same position which he had occupied during his former conver- 
 sation with her. " I'm fain to see ye looking sae weel, cummer ; 
 the mair, that the black ox has tramped on ye since I was aneath 
 your roof-tree." 
 
 " Ay," said Elspeth ; but rather from a general idea of misfor- 
 tune, than any exact recollection of what had happened, — " thei-e 
 has been distress amang us of late — I wonder how younger folk 
 bide it — I bide it ill — I canna hear the wind whistle, and the sea 
 roar, but I think I see the coble whombled keel up, and some o' 
 them struggling in the waves ! — Eh, sirs ! sic weary dreams as folk 
 hae between sleeping and waking, before they win to the lang sleep 
 and the sound ! — I could amaist think whiles my son, or else 
 Steenie, my oe, was dead, and that I had seen the burial. Isna 
 that a queer dream for a daft auld carline .? What for should ony 
 o' them dee before me? — it's out o' the pourse o' nature, ye 
 ken." 
 
 " I think you will make very little of this stupid old woman," 
 said Hector, who still nourished, perhaps, some feelings of the dis- 
 like excited by the disparaging mention of his countrymen in her 
 lay — " I think you'll make but little of her, sir ; and it's wastijig 
 our time to sit here and listen to her dotage." 
 
 " Hector," said the Antiquary indignantly, " if you do not respect 
 her misfortunes, respect at least her old age and grey hairs — this 
 is the last stage of existence, so finely treated by the Latin poet 
 
330 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 ' ' Omni 
 
 Membrorum damno major dementia, quae nee 
 Nomina servorum, nee vultus agnoscit amici, 
 Cum queis preterita cosnavit nocte, nee illos 
 Quos genuit, quos eduxit.' " 
 
 " That's Latin ! " said Elspeth, rousing herself as if she at- 
 tended to the hnes, which the Antiquary recited with great pomp of 
 diction — " that's Latin ! " and she cast a wild glance around her — 
 " Has there a priest fund me out at last?" 
 
 " You see, nephew, her comprehension is almost equal to your 
 own of that fine passagfe." 
 
 " I hope you think, sir, that I knew it to be Laitin as well as she 
 did ! " 
 
 " Why, as to that But stay, she is about to speak." 
 
 " I will have no priest — none," said the beldam, with impotent 
 vehemence ; — " as I have lived I will die — none shall say that I be- 
 trayed my mistress, though it were to save my soul ! " 
 
 " That bespoke a foul conscience," said the mendicant ; " I wuss 
 she wad mak a clean breast, an it were but for her ain sake ; " and 
 he again assailed her. 
 
 " Weel, gudewife, I did your errand to the Yerl." 
 
 " To what Earl ? I ken nae Earl ; —I ken'd a Countess ance — 
 I wish to Heaven I had never ken'd her ! for by that acquaintance, 
 neighbour, there cam " — and she counted her withered fingers as 
 she spoke — " first Pride, then Malice, then Revenge, then False 
 Witness ; and Murder tirl'd at the door pin, if he camna ben. And 
 werena thae pleasant guests, think ye, to take up their quarters in 
 ae woman's heart ? I trow there was routh o' company." 
 
 " But, cutnmer," continued the beggar, " it wasna the Countess 
 of Glenallan' I meant, but her son, him that was Lord Geraldin." 
 
 " I mind it now," she said ; " I saw him no that lang syne, and 
 we had a heavy speech thegither. — Eh, sirs ! the comely young 
 lord is turned as auld and frail as I am — it's muckle that sorrow and 
 heartbreak, and crossing of true love, will do wi' young blood — But 
 suldna his mither hae lookit to that bersell ? — We were but to do 
 her bidding, ye ken — I am sure there's naebody can blame me — he 
 Avasna my son, and she was my mistress — Ye ken bow the rhyme 
 says — I hae maist forgotten how to sing, or else the tune's left my 
 auld head : 
 
 ' He turn'd him right and round again, 
 Said, Scorn na at my mither ; 
 Light loves I may get mony a ane. 
 But minnie ne'er anither.' 
 
 Then he was but of the half blude, ye ken, and hers was the right 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 33' 
 
 Glenallan after a'. Na, na, I maun never maen doing and suffering 
 for the Countess Jocelin. Never will I maen ioi that." 
 
 Then drawing her flax from the distaff, with the dogged air of 
 one who is resolved to confess nothing, she resumed her interrupted 
 occupation. 
 
 " I hae heard," said the mendicant, taking his cue from what 
 Oldbuckhad told him of the family history — " I hae heard, cummer, 
 that some ill tongue suld hae come between the Earl, that's Lord 
 Geraldin, and his young bride." 
 
 " 111 tongue ? " she said, in hasty alarm ; " and what had she to 
 fear frae an ill tongue ? — she was gude and fair eneugh — at least a' 
 body said sae. — But had she keepit her ain tongue aff ither folk, she 
 might hae been living like a leddy for a' that's come and gane yet." 
 
 " But I hae heard sae, gudewife," continued Ochiltree, " there was 
 a clatter in the country, that her husband and her were ower sibb 
 when they married." 
 
 " Wha durst speak o' that .'' " said the old woman hastily ; 
 "wha durst say they were married? — Wha kend o' that! — not 
 the Countess — not I — If they wedded in secret, they were severed 
 in secret — They drank of the fountains of their ain deceit." 
 
 " No, wretched beldam ! " exclaimed Oldbuck, who could keep 
 silence no longer, " they drank the poison that you and your wicked 
 mistress prepared for them." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " she- replied, " I aye thought it would come to this — 
 it's but sitting silent when they examine me — there's nae torture in 
 our days — and if there is, let them rend me ! It's ill o' the vassal's 
 mouth that betrays the bread it eats." 
 
 " Speak to her, Edie," said the Antiquary ; " she knows your 
 voice, and answers to it most readily." 
 
 " We shall mak naething mair out o' her,'' said Ochiltree. "When 
 she has clinkit hersell down that way, and faulded her arms, she 
 winna speak a word, they say, for weeks thegither. And besides, 
 to my thinking, her face is sair changed since we cam in. However, 
 I'se try her aince mair to satisfy your honour. So ye canna keep in 
 mind, cummer, that your auld mistress, the Countess Jocelin, has 
 been removed?" 
 
 " Removed ! " she exclaimed ; for that name never failed to pro- 
 duce its usual effect upon her ; " then we maun a' follow — A' maun 
 ride when she is in the saddle— tell them to let Lord Geraldin ken 
 we're on before them — brmg my hood and scarf — ye wadna hae me 
 gang in the carriage wi' my leddy, and my hair in this fashion ? " 
 
 She raised her shrivelled arms, and seemed busied like a woman 
 who puts on her cloak to go abroad, then dropped them slowly and 
 stiffly; and the same idea of a journey still floating apparently 
 
53» THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 through her head, she proceeded, in a hurried and interrupted 
 manner, — "Call Miss vNeville — What do you mean by Lady 
 Geraldin ? I said Eveline Neville — not Lady Geraldin — there's 
 no Lady Geraldin — tell her that, and bid her change her vi^et gown, 
 and no' look sae pale — Bairn ! what should she do wi' a bairn ? — 
 maidens hae nane, I trow. — Teresa — Teresa — my lady calls us ! — 
 Bring a candle ; the grand staircase is as mirk as a Yule midnight 
 — We are coming, my lady ! " With these words she sank back on 
 the settle, and from thence sidelong to the floor.* 
 
 Edie ran to support her, but hardly got her in his arms before he 
 said, " It's a' ower, she has passed away even with that last word." 
 
 " Impossible," said Oldbuck, hastily advancing, as did his 
 nephew. But nothing was more certain. She had expired with 
 the last hurried word that left her lips ; and all that remained 
 before them were the mortal relics of the creature who had so long 
 struggled with an internal sense of concealed guilt, joined to all the 
 distresses of age and poverty. 
 
 " God grant that she be gane to a better place ! " said Edie, as he 
 looked on the lifeless body ; " but oh ! there was something lying 
 hard and heavy at her heart. I have seen mony a ane dee, baith in 
 the field o' battle, and a fair-strae death at hame ; but I wad rather 
 see them a ower again, as sic a fearfu' flitting as hers ! " 
 
 " We must call in the neighbours," said Oldbuck, when he had 
 somewhat recovered his horror and astonishment, "and give warning 
 of this additional calamity — I wish she could have been brought to a 
 confession. And, though of far less consequence, I could have wished 
 to transcribe that metrical fragment. But Heaven'swillmustbedone!" 
 
 They left the hut accordingly, and gave the alarm in the hamlet, 
 whose matrons instantly assembled to compose the limbs and 
 arrange the body of her who might be considered as the mother of 
 their settlement. Oldbuck promised his assistance for the funeral. 
 
 " Your honour," said Alison Breck, who was next in age to the 
 deceased, " suld send doun something to us for keeping up our 
 hearts at the lyke-wake, for a' Saunders's gin, puir man, was drucken 
 out at the burial o' Steenie, and we'll no get mony to sit dry-lipped 
 aside the corpse. Elspeth was unco clever in her young days, as I 
 can mind right weel, but there was aye a word o' her no being that 
 chancy — Ane suldna speak ill o' the dead — mair by token, o' ane's 
 cummer and neighbour — but there was queer things said about a 
 leddy and a bairn or she left the Craigburnfoot. And sae, in gude 
 troth, it will be a puir lyke-wake, unless your honour sends us 
 something to keep us cracking." 
 
 " You shall have some whisky," answered Oldbuck, " the rather 
 that you have preserved the proper word for that ancient custom of 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 333 
 
 watching the dead. — You observe, Hector, this is genuine Teutonic, 
 from the Gothic Leichnam, a corpse. It is quite erroneously called 
 I^ate-wake, though Brand favours that modern corruption and 
 derivation." 
 
 " I believe,'' said Hector to himself, " my uncle would give away 
 Monkbarns to any one who would come to ask it in genuine 
 Teutonic ! Not a drop of whisky would the old creatures have 
 got, had their president asked it for the use of the Late-wake" 
 
 While Oldbuckwas giving some further directions, and promising 
 assistance, a servant of Sir Arthur's came riding very hard along 
 the sands, and stopped his horse when he saw the Antiquary. 
 " There had something," he said, " very particular happened at the 
 Castle" (he could not, or would not, explain what), "and Miss 
 Wardour had sent him off express to Monkbarns, to beg that Mr. 
 Oldbuck would come to them without a moment's delay." 
 
 " I am afraid," said the Antiquary, " his course also is drawing to 
 a close — What can I do ? " 
 
 " Do, sir ? " exclaimed Hector, with his characteristic impa- 
 tience, — " get on the horse, and turn his head homeward — you will 
 be at Knockwinnock Castle in ten minutes." 
 
 " He is quite a free goer," said the servant, dismounting to adjust 
 the girths and stirrups, — " he only pulls a little if he feels a dead 
 weight on him." 
 
 " I should soon be a dead weight off him, my friend," said the 
 Antiquary. — " What the devil, nephew, are you weary of me ? or do 
 you suppose me weary of my life, that I should get on the back of 
 such a Bucephalus as that ? No, no, my friend, if I am to be at 
 Knockwinnock to-day, it must be by walking quietly forward on my 
 own feet, which I will do with as little delay as possible. Captain 
 M'Intyre may ride that animal himself, if he pleases." 
 
 " I have little hope I could be of any use, uncle, but I cannot 
 think of their distress without wishing to show sympathy at least — ■ 
 so I will ride on before, and announce to them that you are coming, 
 — I'll trouble you for your spurs, my friend." 
 
 " You will scarce need them, sir," said the man, taking them off 
 at the same time, and buckling them upon Captain M'Intyre's 
 heels ; " he's very frank to the road." 
 
 Oldbuck stood astonished at this last act of temerity. " Are you 
 mad, Hector ! " he cried, " or have you forgotten what is said by 
 Quintus Curtius, with whom, as a soldier you must needs be familiar, 
 Nobilis equus umbra quidem virgcs regitur ; ignavus ne calcari 
 quidem excitari potest j which plainly shows that spurs are useless 
 in every case, and, I may add, dangerous in most ? " 
 
 But Hector, who cared little for the opinion of either Quintiis 
 
334 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Curtius or of the Antiquary, upon such a topic, only answered with 
 a heedless " Never fear, never fear, sir." 
 
 " With that he gave his able horse the head, 
 And, bending forward, struck his armed heels 
 Against the panting sides of his poor jade. 
 Up to the rowel-head ; and starting so. 
 He seem'd in running to devour the way, 
 Staying no longer question." 
 
 " There they go, well matched," said Oldbuck, looking after them 
 as they started — " a mad horse and a wild boy, the two most unruly 
 creatures in Christendom ! and all to get half an hour sooner to a 
 place where nobody wants him ; for I doubt Sir Arthur's griefs are 
 beyond the cure of our light-horseman. It must be the viUany of 
 Dousterswivel, for whom . Sir Arthur has done so much ; for I 
 cannot help observing, that, with some natures, Tacitus's maxim 
 holdeth good : Beneficia eo usque lata sunt dum videntur exsolvi 
 j>ossej ubi multum ante venere, pro gratia odium redditur, — from 
 which a wise man might take a caution, not to oblige any man 
 beyond the degree in which he may expect to be requited, lest he 
 should make his debtor a bankrupt in gratitude." 
 
 Murmuring to himself such scraps of cynical philosophy, our 
 Antiquary paced the sands towards Knockwinnock ; but it is 
 necessary we should outstrip him for the purpose of explaining the 
 reasons of his being so anxiously summoned thither. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 So, while the Goose, of whom the fable told. 
 
 Incumbent, brooded o'er her eggs of gold. 
 
 With hand outstretch'd, impatient to destroy 
 
 Stole on her secret nest the cruel Boy, 
 
 Whose gripe rapacious changed her splendid dream, 
 
 — For wings vain fluttering, and for dying scream. 
 
 The Loves of the Sea-weeds. 
 
 From the time that Sir Arthur Wardour had become possessor 
 of the treasure found in Misticot's grave, he had been in a state of 
 mind more resembling ecstasy than sober sense. Indeed, at one 
 time his daughter had become seriously apprehensive for his intel- 
 lect J for, as he had no doubt that he had the secret of possessing 
 himself of wealth to an unbounded extent, his language and carriage 
 were those of a man who had acquired the philosopher's stone. He 
 talked of buying contiguous estates, that would have led him from 
 one side of the island to the other, as if he were determined to 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 33S 
 
 brook no neighbour save the sea. He corresponded with an 
 , architect of eminence, upon a plan of renovating the castle of his 
 forefathers, on a style of extended magnificence that might have 
 rivalled that of Windsor, and laying out the grounds on a suitable 
 scale. Troops of liveried menials were already, in fancy, mar- 
 shalled in his halls, and — for what may not unbounded wealth 
 authorise its possessor to aspire to ? — the coronet of a marquis, 
 perhaps of a duke, was glittering before his imagination.. His 
 daughter — to what matches might she not look forward? Even an 
 alliance with the blood-royal was not beyond the sphere of his 
 hopes. His son was already a general — and he himself whatever 
 ambition could dream of in its wildest visions. 
 
 In this mood, if any one endeavoured to bring Sir Arthur down 
 to the regions of common life, his replies were in the vein of 
 Ancient Pistol : 
 
 " A fico for the world, and worldlings base ! 
 I speak of Africa and golden joys ! " 
 
 The reader may conceive the amazement of Miss Wardour, when, 
 instead of undergoing an investigation concerning the addresses of 
 Lovel, as she had expected from the long conference of her father 
 with Mr. Oldbuck, upon the morning of the fated day when the 
 treasure was discovered, the conversation of Sir Arthur announced 
 an imagination heated with the hopes of possessing the most un- 
 bounded wealth. But she was seriously alarmed when Douster- 
 swivel was sent for to the Castle, and was closeted with her father — 
 his mishap condoled with — his part taken, and his loss compen- 
 sated. AH the suspicions which she had long entertained respect- 
 ing this man became strengthened, by observing his pains to keep 
 up the golden dreams of her father, and to secure for himself, under 
 various pretexts, as much as possible out of the windfall which had 
 so strangely fallen to Sir Arthur's share. 
 
 Other evil symptoms began to appear, following close on each 
 other. Letters arrived every post, which Sir Arthur, as soon as he 
 had looked at the directions, flung into the fire without taking the 
 trouble to open them. Miss Wardour could not help suspecting 
 that these epistles, the contents of which seemed to be known to 
 her father by a sort of intuition, came from pressing creditors. In 
 the meanwhile, the temporary aid which he had received from the 
 treasure, dwindled fast away. By far the greater part had been 
 swallowed up by the necessity of paying the bill of six hundred 
 pounds, which had threatened Sir Arthur with instant distress. Of 
 the rest, some part was given to the adept, some wasted upon 
 extravagances which seemed to the poor knight fully authorised by 
 
336 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 his, full-blown hopes, — and some went to stop for a time the moufhs 
 of such claimants as, being weary of fair promises, had become of 
 opinion with Harpagon, that it was necessary to touch something 
 substantial. At length circumstances, announced but too plainly, 
 that it was all expended within two or three days after its discovery ; 
 and there appeared no prospect of a supply. Sir Arthur, naturally 
 impatient, now taxed Dousterswivel anew with breach of those 
 promises through which he had hoped to convert all his lead into 
 gold. But that worthy gentleman's turn was now served ; and as he 
 had grace enough to wish to avoid witnessing the fall of the house 
 which he had undermined, he was at the trouble of bestowing a few 
 learned terms of art upon Sir Arthur, that at least he might not be 
 tormented before his time. He took leave of him, with assurances 
 that he would return to Knockwinnock the next morning, with 
 such information as would not fail to relieve Sir Arthur from all his 
 distresses. 
 
 " For, since I have consulted in such matters, I ave never," said 
 Mr. Herman Dousterswivel, " approached so near de arcanum, 
 what you call de great mystery, — de Panchresta — de Polychresta — 
 I do know as much of it as Pelaso de Taranta, or Basilius — and 
 either I will bring you in two and tree days de No. III. of Mr. 
 Mishdigoat, or you shall call me one knave myself, and never look 
 me in de face again no more at all." 
 
 The adept departed with this assurance, in the firm resolution of 
 making good the latter part of the proposition, and never again 
 appearing before his injured patron. Sir Arthur remained in a 
 doubtful and anxious state of mind. The positive assurances of 
 the philosopher, with the hard words Panchresta, Basilius, and so 
 forth, produced some effect on his mind. But he had been too 
 often dehided by such jargon, to be absolutely relieved of his doubt, 
 and he retired for the evening into his library, in the fearful state of 
 one who, hanging over a precipice, and without the means of retreat, 
 perceives the stone on which he rests gradually parting from the 
 rest of the crag, and about to give way with him. 
 
 The visions of hope decayed, and there increased in proportion 
 that feverish agony of anticipation with which a man, educated in 
 a sense of consequence, and possessed of opulence, — the supporter 
 of an ancient name, and the father of two promising children, — 
 foresaw the hour approaching which should deprive him of all the 
 splendour which time had made familiarly necessary to him, and 
 send him forth into the world to struggle with poverty, with rapacity, 
 and with scorn. Under these dire forebodings, his temper, ex- 
 hausted by the sickness of delayed hope, became peevish and 
 fretful, and his words and actions sometimes expressed a reckless 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 337 
 
 desperation, which alarmed Miss Wardour extremely. We have 
 seen, on a former occasion, that Sir Arthur was a man of passions 
 lively and, quick, in proportion to the weakness of his character in 
 other respects ; he was unused to contradiction, and if he had been 
 hitherto, in general, good-humoured and cheerful, it was probably 
 because the course of his life had afforded no such frequent provo- 
 cation as to render his irritability habitual. 
 
 On the third morning after Dousterswivel's departure, the servant, 
 as usual, laid on the breakfast table the newspaper and letters of 
 the day. Miss Wardour took up the former to avoid the continued 
 ill-humour of her father, who had wrought himself into a violent 
 passion, because the toast was over-browned. 
 
 " I perceive how it is," was his concluding speech on this inte- 
 resting subject, — " my servants, who have had their share of my 
 fortune, begin to think there is little to be made of me in future. 
 But while I am the scoundrels' master I will be so, and permit no 
 neglect — no, nor endure a hair's-breadth diminution of the respect 
 I am entitled to exact from them." 
 
 " I am ready to leave your honour's service this instant," said the 
 domestic upon whom the fault had been charged, " as soon as you 
 order payment of my wages." 
 
 Sir Arthur, as if stung by a serpent, thrust his hand into his 
 pocket, and instantly drew out the money which it contained, but 
 which was short of the man's claim. " What money have you got, 
 Miss Wardour 'i " he said, in a tone of affected calmness, but which 
 concealed violent agitation. 
 
 Miss Wardour gave him her purse ; he attempted to count the 
 bank notes which it contained, but could not reckon them. After 
 twice miscounting the sum, he threw the whole to his daughter, and 
 saying, in a stern voice, " Pay the rascal, and let him leave the 
 house instantly ! " he strode out of the room. 
 
 The mistress and servant stood alike astonished at the agitation 
 and vehemence of his manner. 
 
 " 1 am sure, ma'am, if I had thought I was particularly wrang, I 
 wadna hae made ony answer when Sir Arthur challenged me — I 
 liae been lang in his service, and he has been a kind master, and 
 you a kind mistress, and I wad like ill ye should think I wad start 
 for a hasty word — I am sure it was very wrang o' me to speak about 
 wages to his honour, when maybe he has something to vex him. I 
 had nae thoughts o' leaving the family in this way." 
 
 " Go downstairs, Robert," said his mistress — " something has 
 happened to fret my father — go downstairs, and let Alick answer 
 the bell." 
 
 When the man left the room, Sir Arthur re-entered, as if he had 
 
 Y 
 
338 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 been watching his departure. " What's the meaning of this ? " he 
 said hastily, as he observed the notes lying still on the table — 
 " Is he not gone ? Am I neither to be obeyed as a master or a 
 father?" 
 
 " He is gone to give up his charge to the housekeeper, sir, — I 
 thought there was not such instant haste." 
 
 " There is haste, Miss Wardour," answered her father, interrupt- 
 ing her ; — " What I do henceforth in the house of my forefathers, 
 must be done speedily, or never." 
 
 He then sat down, and took up with a trembling hand the basin 
 of tea prepared for him, protracting the swallowing of it, as if to 
 delay the necessity of opening the post-letters which lay on the 
 table, and which he eyed from time to time, as if they had been a 
 nest of adders ready to start into life and spring upon him. 
 
 "You will be happy to hear," said Miss Wardour, willing to 
 withdraw her father's mind from the gloomy reflections in which he 
 appeared to be plunged, " you will be happy to hear, sir, that 
 Lieutenant Taffril's gun-brig has got safe intO' Leith Roads — I ob- 
 serve there had been apprehensions for his safety — I am glad we 
 did not hear them till they were contradicted." 
 
 " And what is Taffril and his gun-brig to me ?" 
 
 " Sir ! " said Miss Wardour in astonishment ; for Sir Arthur, in 
 his ordinary state of mind, took a fidgety sort of interest in all the 
 gossip of the day and country. 
 
 " I say," he repeated, in a higher and still more impatient key, 
 "what do I care who is saved or lost? — It's nothing to me, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " I did not know you were busy, Sir Arthur ; and thought, as 
 Mr. Tafifril is a brave man, and from our country, you would be 
 happy to hear " 
 
 " Oh, I am happy — as happy as possible — and, to make you'happy 
 too, you shall have some of my good news in return." And he 
 caught up a letter. " It does not signify which I open first— they 
 are all to the same tune." 
 
 He broke the seal hastily, run the letter over, and then threw it 
 to his daughter.—" Ay ; I could not have lighted more happily !— 
 this places the copestone." 
 
 Miss Wardour, in silent terror, took up the letter. " Read it- 
 read it aloud ! " said her father ; " it cannot be read too often ; it 
 will serve to break you in for other good news of the same 
 kind." 
 
 She began to read with a faltering voice, " Dear Sir." 
 
 " He dears me too, you see — this impudent drudge of a writer's 
 office, who, a twelvemonth since, was not fit company for my 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 339 
 
 second table — I suppose I shall be 'dear Knight' with him by- 
 and-by." 
 
 " Dear Sir," resumed Miss Wardour ; but, interrupting herself, 
 " I see the contents are unpleasant, sir — it will only vex you my 
 reading then: aloud." 
 
 " If you will allow me to know my own pleasure, Miss Wardour, 
 I entreat you to go on — I presume, if it were unnecessary, I should 
 not ask you to take the trouble." 
 
 " Having been of late taken into copartnery," continued Miss 
 Wardour, reading the letter, "by Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn, son of 
 your late correspondent and man of business, Girnigo Greenhorn, 
 Esq., writer to the signet, whose business I conducted as parlia- 
 -ment-house clerk for many years, which business will in future be 
 carried on under the firm of Greenhorn and Grinderson (which I 
 memorandum for the sake of accuracy in addressing your future 
 letters), and having had of late favours of yours, directed to my 
 aforesaid partner, Gilbert Greenhorn, in consequence of his absence 
 at the Lamberton races, have the honour to reply to your said 
 favours." 
 
 " You see my friend is methodical, and commences by explaining 
 the causes which have procured me so modest and elegant a corre- 
 spondent. — ^^Go on — I can bear it" 
 
 And he laughed that bitter laugh which is perhaps the most 
 fearful expression of mental misery. Trembling to proceed, and 
 yet afraid to disobey. Miss Wardour continued to read : " I am, 
 for myself and partner, sorry we cannot oblige you by looking out 
 for the sums you mention, or applying for a suspension in the case 
 of Goldiebirds' bond, which would be more inconsistent, as we have 
 been employed to act as the said Goldiebirds' procurators and 
 attorneys, in which capacity we have taken out a charge of horning 
 against you, as you must be aware by the schedule left by the 
 messenger, for the sum of four thousand seven hundred and fifty- 
 six pounds five shillings and sixpence one-fourth of a penny Sterling, 
 which, with annual rent and expenses eifeiring, we presume will be 
 settled during the currency of the charge, to prevent further trouble. 
 Same time, I am under the necessity to observe our own account, 
 amounting to seven hundred and sixty-nine pounds ten shillings 
 and sixpence, is also due, and settlement would be agreeable ; but 
 as we hold your rights, title-deeds, and documents in hypothec, 
 shall have no objection to give reasonable time — say till the 
 next money term. I am, for myself and partner, concerned to add, 
 that Messrs. Goldiebirds' instructions to us are to proceed /^r^wz/- 
 torie and sine mora, of which I have the pleasure to advise you, to 
 prevent future mistakes, reserving to ourselves otherwise to agd as 
 
340 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 accords. I am, for self and partner, dear Sir, your obliged humble 
 servant, Gabriel Grinderson, for Greenhorn and Grinderson." 
 
 " Ungrateful villain ! " said Miss Wardour. 
 
 " Why, no ; it's in the usual rule, I suppose ; the blow could not 
 have been perfect if dealt by another hand — it's all just as it 
 should be," answered the poor Baronet, his affected composure 
 sorely belied by his quivering lip and rolling eye — " But here's a 
 postscript I did not notice — come, finish the epistle." 
 
 " 1 have to add (not for self but partner), that Mr. Greenhorn 
 will accommodate you by taking your service of plate, or the bay 
 horses, if sound in wind and limb, at a fair appreciation, in part 
 payment of your accompt." 
 
 " G — d confound him ! " said Sir Arthur, losing all command of 
 himself at this condescending proposal : " his grandfather shod my 
 father's horses, and this descendant of a scoundrelly blacksmith 
 proposes to swindle me out of mine ! But I will write him a proper 
 answer." 
 
 And he sat down and began to write with great vehemence, 
 then stopped and read aloud : — "Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn, in answer 
 to two letters of a late date, I received a letter from a person call- 
 ing himself Grinderson, and designing himself as your partner. 
 When I address any one, I do not usually expect to be answered 
 by deputy — I think I have been useful to your father, and friendly 
 and civil to yourself, and therefore am now surprised — And yet," 
 said he, stopping short, " why should I be surprised at that or any- 
 thing else ? — or why should I take up my time in writing to such a 
 scoundrel ? — I shan't be always kept in prison, I suppose ; and to 
 break that puppy's bones when I get out, shall be my first employ- 
 ment." 
 
 " In prison, sir ? " said Miss Wardour, faintly. 
 
 " Ay, in prison, to be sure. Do you make any question about 
 that ? — Why, Mr. What's-his-name's fine letter for self and partner 
 seems to be thrown away on you, or else you have got four thousand 
 so many hundred pounds, with the due proportion of shillings, 
 pence, and half-pence, to pay that aforesaid demand, as he calls it." 
 
 " I, sir ? — O if I had the means ! — But where's my brother ? — why 
 does he not come, and so long in Scotland? He might do some- 
 thing to assist us." 
 
 " Who, Reginald ? — I suppose he's gone with Mr. Gilbert Green- 
 horn, or some such respectable person, to the Lamberton races — I 
 have expected him this week past — but I cannot wonder that my 
 children shojild neglect me as well as every other person. But I 
 should beg your pardon, my love, who never either neglected or 
 offended me in your life," 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 341 
 
 And kissing her cheek as she threw her arms round his neck, he 
 experienced that consolation which a parent feels, even in the most 
 distressed state, in the assurance that he possesses the affection of 
 a child. 
 
 Miss Wardour took the advantage of this revulsion of feeling, to 
 endeavour to soothe her father's mind to composure. She reminded 
 him that he had many friends. 
 
 " I had many once," said Sir Arthur ; " but of some I have ex- 
 hausted their kindness with my frantic projects — others are unable 
 to assist me — others are unwilling — It is all over with me — I only 
 hope Reginald will take example by my folly." 
 
 " Should I not send to Monkbams, sir ? " said his daughter. 
 
 " To what purpose ? He cannot lend me such a sum, and 
 would not if he could, for he knows I am otherwise drowned in 
 debt ; and he would only give me scraps of misanthropy and quaint 
 ends of Latin." 
 
 " But he is shrewd and sensible, and was bred to business, and, I 
 am sure, always loved this family." 
 
 " Yes, I believe he did — It is a fine pass we are come to when the 
 affection of an Oldbuck is of consequence to a Wardour !— But 
 when matters come to extremity, as I suppose they presently will — 
 it may be as well to send for him — ^And now go take your walk, my 
 dear — my mind is more composed than when I had this cursed dis- 
 closure to make. You know the worst, and may daily or hourly 
 expect it. Go take your walk — I would willingly be alone for a 
 little while." 
 
 When Miss Wardour left the apartment, her first occupation was 
 to avail herself of the half-permission granted by her father, by 
 dispatching to Monkbams the messenger, who, as we have 
 already seen, met the Antiquary and his nephew on the sea- 
 beach. 
 
 Little recking, and indeed scarce knowing, where she was wander- 
 ing, chance directed her into the walk beneath the Briery Bank, as 
 it was called. A brook, which in former days had supplied the 
 castle-moat with water, here descended through a narrow dell, up 
 which Miss Wardour's taste had directed a natural path, which was 
 rendered neat and easy of ascent, without the air of being formally 
 made and preserved. It suited well the character of the little glen, 
 which was overhung with thickets and underwood, chiefly of larch 
 and hazel, intermixed with the usual varieties of the thorn and 
 brier. In this walk had passed that scene of explanation between 
 Miss Wardour and Lovel which was overheard by old Edie Ochil- 
 tree. With a heart softened by the distress which approached her 
 'amily, Miss Wardour now recalled every word and argument which 
 
342 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Lovel had urged in support of his suit, and could not help confessing 
 to herself, it was no small subject of pride to have inspired a young ^^ 
 man of his talents with a passion so strong and disinterested. 
 That he should have left the pursuit of a profession in which he was 
 said to be rapidly rising, to bury himself in a disagreeable place 
 like Fairport, and brood over an unrequited passion, might be 
 ridiculed by others as romantic, but was naturally forgiven as an 
 excess of affection by the person who was the object of his attach- 
 ment. Had he possessed an independence, however moderate, or 
 ascertained a clear and undisputed claim to the rank in society 
 he was well qualified to adorn, she might now have had it in her 
 power to offer her father, during his misfortunes, an asylum in an 
 establishment of her own. These thoughts, so favourable to the 
 absent lover, crowded in, one after the other, with such a minute 
 recapitulation of his words, looks, and actions, as plainly intimated 
 that his former repulse had been dictated rather by duty than incli- 
 nation. Isabella was musing alternately upon this subject, and 
 upon that of her father's misfortunes, when, as the path winded 
 round a little hillock covered with brushwood, the old Blue-Gown 
 suddenly met her. 
 
 With an air as if he had something important and mysterious to 
 communicate, he doffed his bonnet, and assumed the cautious step 
 and voice of one who would not willingly be overheard. " I hae 
 been wishing muckle to meet wi' your leddyship — for ye ken I 
 darena come to the house for Dousterswivel." 
 
 " I heard indeed," said Miss Wardour, dropping an alms into the 
 bonnet, " I heard that you had done a very foolish, if not a very bad 
 thing, Edie, and I was sorry to hear it." 
 
 " Hout, my bonny leddy — fulish ? A' the warld's fules — and how 
 should auld Edie Ochiltree be aye wise ? — ^And for the evil — let 
 them wha deal wi' Dousterswivel tell whether he gat a grain mair 
 than his deserts." 
 
 " That may be true, Edie, and yet," said Miss Wardour, " you 
 may have been very wrong." 
 
 " Weel, weel, we'se no dispute that e'ennow — it's about yoursel 
 I'm gaun to speak — Div ye ken what's hanging ower the house of 
 Knockwinnock ? " 
 
 " Great distress, I fear, Edie," answered Miss Wardour ; " but I 
 am surprised it is already so public." 
 
 " Public ! — Sweepclean, the messenger, will be there the day wi 
 a' his tackle. I ken it frae ane o' his concurrents, as they ca' them, 
 that's warned to meet him — and they'll be about their wark 
 belyve — whare they clip, there needs nae^kame — they sheer close 
 eneugh." 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 343 
 
 " Are you sure this bad hour, Edie, is so very near ? — come, I 
 know, it will." 
 
 " It's e'en as I tell you, leddy ! but dinna be cast down— there's a 
 heaven ower your head here, as weel as in that fearful night atween 
 the Ballyburghness and the Halket-head. D'ye think He, wha re- 
 buked the waters, canna protect you against the wrath of men, 
 though they be armed with human authority ? " 
 
 " It is, indeed, all we have to trust to." 
 
 " Ye dinna ken — ye dinna ken — when the night's darkest, the 
 dawn's nearest. If I had a gude horse, or could ride him when I 
 had him, I reckon there wad be help yet — I trusted to hae gotten 
 a cast wi' the Royal Charlotte, but she's coupit yonder, it's like, at 
 Kittlebrig. There was a young gentleman on the box, and he 
 behuved to drive ; and Tarn Sang, that suld hae mair sense, he 
 behuved to let him, and the daft callant couldna tak the turn at 
 the corner o' the brig ; and od ! he took the curbstane, and he's 
 whomled her as I wad whomle a toom bicker — it was a' luck I 
 hadna gotten on the tap o' her — Sae I came down atween hope and 
 despair, to see if ye wad send me on." 
 
 " And, Edie — where would ye go ? " said the young lady. 
 
 " To Tannonburgh, my leddy " (which was the first stage from 
 Fairport, but a good deal nearer to Knockwinnock), "and that 
 without delay — it's«a' on your ain business." 
 
 " Our business, Edie ? Alas ! I give you all credit for your good 
 meaning; but" 
 
 " There's nae buts about it, my leddy, for gang I maun," said the 
 persevering Blue-Gown. 
 
 " But what is it that you would do at Tannonburgh ? — or how can 
 your going there benefit my father's affairs ? " > 
 
 "Indeed, my sweet leddy," said the gaberlunzie, ",ye maun just 
 trust that bit secret to auld Edie's grey pow, and ask nae questions 
 about it — Certainly if I wad hae wared my life for you yon night, I 
 can hae nae reason to play an ill pliskie t'ye in the day o' your 
 distress." 
 
 "Well, Edie, follow me then," said Miss Wardour, "and I will 
 try to get you sent to Tannonburgh." 
 
 " Mak haste then, my bonny leddy, mak haste, for the love of 
 goodness ! " — and he continued to exhort her to expedition until 
 they reached the Castla 
 
344 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 Let those go see who will — I like it not— 
 For, say he was a slave to rank and pomp, 
 And all the nothings he is now divorced from 
 By the hard doom of stern necessity ; 
 Yet is it sad to mark his alter'd brow, 
 Where Vanity adjusts her flimsy veil 
 O'er the deep wrinkles of repentant anguish. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 When Miss Wardour arrived in the court of the Castle, she was 
 apprized by the first glance, that the visit of the officers of the law 
 had already taken place. There was confusion, and gloom, and 
 sorrow, and curiosity among the domestics, while the retainers of 
 the law went from place to place, making an inventory of the goods 
 and chattels falling under their warrant of distress, or poinding, as 
 it is called in the law of Scotland. Captain M'Intyre flew to her, 
 as, struck dumb with the melancholy conviction of her father's ruin, 
 she paused upon the threshold of the gateway. 
 
 " Dear Miss Wardour," he said, " do not make yourself uneasy ; 
 my uncle is coming immediately, and I am sure he will find some 
 way to clear the house of these rascals." 
 
 "Alas ! Captain M'Intyre, I fear it will be too late." 
 
 " No," answered Edie, impatiently — " could I but get to Tannon- 
 burgh. In the name of Heaven, Captain, contrive some way to get 
 me on, and ye'U do this poor ruined family the best day's doing 
 that has been done them since Redhand's days — for as sure as e'er 
 an old saw came true, Knockwinnock house and land will be lost 
 and won this day." 
 
 " Why, what good can you do, old man ?" said Hector. 
 
 But Robert, the domestic with whom Sir Arthur had been so 
 much displeased in the morning, as if he had been watching for an 
 opportunity to display his zeal, stepped hastily forward, and said to 
 his mistress, " If you please, ma'am, this auld man, Ochiltree, is 
 very skeely and auld-farrant about mony things, as the diseases of 
 cows and horse, and sic like, and I am sure he disna want to be at 
 Tannonburgh the day for naething, since he insists on't this gate ; 
 and, if your leddyship pleases, I'll drive him there in the taxed cart 
 in an hour's time. — I wad fain be of some use — I could bite my 
 very tongue out when I think on this morning." 
 
 " I am obhged to you, Robert," said Miss Wardour ; " and if you 
 really think it has the least chance of being useful " 
 
 " In the name of God," said the old man, " yoke the cart, Robie, 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 34S 
 
 and if I am no o' some use, less or mair, I'll gie ye leave to fling 
 me ower Kittlebrig as ye come back again. But, O man, haste ye, 
 for time's precious this day." 
 
 Robert looked at his mistress as she retired into the house, and 
 seeing he was not prohibited, flew to the stable-yard, which was 
 adjacent to the court, in order to yoke the carriage ; for, though an 
 old beggar was the personage least likely to render effectual assist- 
 ance in a case of pecuniary distress, yet there was among the 
 common people of Edie's circle a general idea of his prudence and 
 sagacity, which authorized Robert's conclusion that he would not so 
 earnestly have urged the necessity of this expedition had he not been 
 convinced of its utility. But so soon as the servant took hold of a 
 horse to harness him for the taxed cart, an officer touched him on 
 the shoulder — " My friend, you must let that beast alone, he's down 
 in the schedule." 
 
 " What ? " said Robert, " am I not to take my master's horse to 
 go my young ledd^s errand ? " 
 
 " You must remove nothing here," said the man of office, " or you 
 will be liable for all consequences." 
 
 " What the devil, sir," said Hector, who, having followed ■^ to 
 examine Ochiltree more closely on the nature of his hopes and 
 expectations, already began to bristle like one of the terriers of his 
 own native mountains, and sought but a decent pretext for venting 
 his displeasure, " have you the impudence to prevent the young 
 lady's servant from obeying her orders ? " 
 
 There was something in the air and tone of the young soldier, 
 -which seemed to argue that his interference was not likely to be 
 confined to mere expostulation ; and which, if it promised finally 
 the advantages of a process of battery and deforcement, would 
 certainly commence with the unpleasant circumstances necessary 
 for founding such a complaint. The legal officer, confronted with 
 him of the military, grasped with one doubtful hand the greasy 
 bludgeon which was to enforce his authority, and with the other 
 produced his short official baton, tipped with silver, and having a 
 movable ring upon it — " Captain M'Intyre, — Sir, I have no quarrel 
 with you, — but if you interrupt me in my duty, I will break the 
 wand of peace, and declare myself deforced." 
 
 " And who the devil cares," said Hector, totally ignorant of the 
 words of judicial action, " whether you declare yourself divorced 
 or married? — And as to breaking your wand, or breaking the 
 peace, or whatever you call it, all I know is, that I will break your 
 bones if you prevent the lad from harnessing the horses to obey 
 his mistress's orders." 
 
 " I take all who stand here to witness," said the messenger, 
 
346 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " that I showed him my blazon, and explained my character. — He 
 that will to Cupar maun to Cupar," — and he slid his. enigmatical 
 ring from one end of the baton to the other, being the appropriate 
 symbol of his having been forcibly interrupted in the discharge of 
 his duty. 
 
 Honest Hector, better accustomed to the artillery of the field 
 than to that of the law, saw this mystical ceremony with great 
 indifference ; and with like unconcern beheld the messenger sit 
 down to write out an execution of deforcement. But at this 
 moment, to prevent the well-meaning hot-headed Highlander from 
 running the risk of a severe penalty, the Antiquary arrived puffing 
 and blowing, with his handkerchief crammed under his hat, and 
 his wig upon the end of his stick. 
 
 "What the deuce is the matter here?" he exclaimed, hastily 
 adjusting his head-gear ; " I have been following' you iii fear of 
 finding your idle loggerhead knocked against one rock or other, 
 and here I find you parted with your Bucephalus, and quarrelling 
 with Sweepclean. A messenger, Hector, is a worse foe than a 
 phoca, whether it be the phoca. barbata or the phoca vitulina of 
 your late conflict." 
 
 "D — n the ;phoca, sir," said Hector, "whether it be the one or 
 the other — I say d — n them both particularly ! — I think you would 
 not have me stand quietly by and see a scoundrel like this, because 
 he calls himself a king's messenger, forsooth — (I hope the king has 
 many better for his meanest errands) — insult a young lady of 
 family and fashion like Miss Wardour ? " 
 
 " Rightly argued. Hector," said the Antiquary ; " but the king, 
 like other people, has now and then shabby errands, and, in your 
 ear, must have shabby fellows to do them. But even supposing 
 you imacquainted with the statutes of William the Lion, in which 
 capite quarto versu quinto, this crime of deforcement is termed 
 despectus Domini Regis, a contempt, to wit, of the king himself, in 
 whose name all legal diligence issues, could you not have inferred, 
 from the information I took so much pains to give you to-day, that 
 those who interrupt officers who conje to execute letters of caption, 
 are tanquam participes criminis rebellion-is ? seeing that he who 
 aids a rebel, is himself, quodammodo, an accessory to rebellion — 
 But 111 bring you out of the scrape." 
 
 He then spoke to the messenger, who, upon his arrival, had laid 
 aside all thoughts of making a good by-job out of the deforcement, 
 and accepted Mr. Oldbuck's assurances that the horse and taxed 
 cart should be safely returned in the course of two or three hours. 
 
 " Very well, sir," said the Antiquary, " since you are disposed to 
 be so civil, you shall have another job in your own best way — a 
 
THF ANTIQUARY. 347 
 
 little cast of state politics — a crime punishable per Legem Juliam, 
 Mr. Sweepclean — Hark thee hither." 
 
 And, after a whisper of five minutes, he gave him a slip of paper, 
 on receiving which, the messenger mounted his horse, and, with 
 one of his assistants, rode away pretty sharply. The fellow who 
 remained seemed to delay his operations purposely, proceeded in 
 the rest of his duty very slowly, and with the caution and precision 
 of one who feels himself overlooked by a skilful and severe in- 
 spector. 
 
 In the meantime, Oldbuck, taking his nephew by the arm, led 
 him into the house, and they were ushered into the presence of Sir 
 Arthur Wardour, who, in a flutter between wounded pride, agonized 
 apprehension, and vain attempts to disguise both under a show of 
 indifference, exhibited a spectacle of painful interest. 
 
 " Happy to see you, Mr. Oldbuck — always happy to see my 
 friends in fair weather or foul," said the poor baronet, struggling, 
 not for composure, but for gaiety, an affectation which was strongly 
 contrasted by the nervous and protracted grasp of his hand, and 
 the agitation of his whole demeanour ; '< I am happy to see you.- — ■ 
 You are riding, I see — I hope in this confusion your horses are 
 taken good care of — I always like to have my friends' horses 
 looked after — Egad ! they will have all my care now, for you see 
 they are like to leave me none of my own — he ! he ! he ! eh, 
 Mr. Oldbuck?" 
 
 This attempt at a jest was attended by a hysterical giggle, which 
 poor Sir Arthur intended should sound as an indifferent laugh. 
 
 " You know I never ride, Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; but sure I saw your nephew arrive on 
 horseback a short time since. We must look after officers' horses, 
 and his was as handsome a grey charger as I have seen." 
 
 Sir Arthur was about to ring the bell, when Mr. Oldbuck said, 
 " My nephew came on your own grey horse. Sir Arthur." 
 
 " Mine ! " said the poor Baronet ; " mine, was it i" — then the sun 
 had been in my eyes. — Well, I'm not worthy having a horse any 
 longer, since I don't know my own when I see him." 
 
 " Good Heaven ! " thought Oldbuck, " how is this man altered 
 from the formal stolidity of his usual manner ! — he grows wanton 
 under adversity — Sed pereunti mille figurce" — He then proceeded 
 aloud ; " Sir Arthur, we must necessarily speak a little on business." 
 
 " To be sure," said Sir Arthur ; — " but it was so good that 
 I should not know the horse I have ridden these five years — ha ! 
 ha! ha!" 
 
 " Sir Arthur," said the Antiquary, " don't let us waste time which 
 is precious ; we shall have, I hope, many better seasons for jesting 
 
348 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 — desipere in loco is the maxim of Horace — I more than suspect 
 this has been brought on by the villany of Dousterswivel." 
 
 "Don't mention his name, sir!" said Sir Arthur; and his 
 manner entirely changed from a fluttered affectation of gaiety to 
 all the agitation of fury ; — his eyes sparkled, his mouth foamed, his 
 hands were clenched ; " don't mention his name, sir," he voci- 
 ferated, "unless you would see me go mad in your presence!— 
 That I should have been such a miserable dolt — such an infatuated 
 idiot — such a beast, endowed with thrice a beast's stupidity, to be 
 led and driven and spur-galled by such a rascal, and under such 
 ridiculous pretences ! — Mr. Oldbuck, I could tear myself when I 
 think of it." 
 
 " I only meant to say," answered the Antiquary, " that this 
 fellow is like to meet his reward ; and I cannot but think we shall 
 frighten something out of him that may be of service to you. — He 
 has certainly had some unlawful correspondence on the other side 
 of the water." 
 
 " Has he ? — ^has he ? — has he, indeed ? — then d— n the household- 
 goods, horses, and so forth — I will go to prison a happy man, 
 Mr. Oldbuck. — I hope in Heaven there's a reasonable chance of 
 his being hanged ? " 
 
 "Why, pretty fair," said Oldbuck, willing to encourage this 
 diversion, in hopes it might mitigate the feelings which seemed 
 like to overset the poor man's understanding ; " honester men have 
 stretched a rope, or the law has been sadly cheated — But this 
 unhappy business of yours — can nothing be done? — Let me see 
 the charge." 
 
 He took the papers ; and, as he read them, his countenance 
 grew hopelessly dark and disconsolate. Miss Wardour had by 
 this time entered the apartment, and fixing her eyes on Mr. Old- 
 buck, as if she meant to read her fate in his looks, easily perceived, 
 from the change in his eye and the dropping of his nether-jaw, how 
 little was to be hoped. 
 
 "We are then irremediably ruined, Mr. Oldbuck?" said the 
 young lady. 
 
 " Irremediably ? — I hope not — but the instant demand is very 
 large, and others will, doubtless, pour in." 
 
 "Ay, never doubt that, Monkbams," said Sir Arthur; "where 
 the slaughter is, the eagles will be gathered together. — I am like a 
 sheep which I have seen fall down a precipice, or drop down from 
 sickness — if you had not seen a single raven or hooded crow for a 
 fortnight before, he wiU not lie on the heather ten minutes before 
 half-a-dozen will be picking out his eyes " (and he drew his hand 
 over his own), " and tearing at his heartstrings before the poor 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 349 
 
 devil has time to die. But that d — d long-scented vulture that 
 dogged me so long — you have got him fast, I hope ? " 
 
 " Fast enough," said the Antiquary ; " the gentleman wished to 
 take the wings of the morning, and bolt in the what d'ye call it, — 
 the coach and four there. But he would have found twigs limed 
 for him at Edinburgh. As it is, he never got so far, for the coach 
 being overturned — as how could it go safe with such a Jonah ? — he 
 has had an infernal tumble, is carried into a cottage near Kittle- 
 brig, and, to prevent all possibility of escape, I have sent your 
 friend Sweepclean to bring him back to Fairport in nomine regis, 
 or to act as his sick-nurse at Kittlebrig, as is most fitting. — And 
 now. Sir Arthur, permit me to have some conversation with you on 
 the present unpleasant state of your affairs, that we my see what 
 can be done for their extrication ; " and the Antiquary led the way 
 into the library, followed by the unfortunate gentleman. 
 
 They had been shut up together for about two hours, when Miss 
 Wardour interrupted them with her cloak on, as if prepared for a 
 journey. Her countenance was very pale, yet expressive of the 
 composure which characterised her disposition. 
 
 " The messenger is returned, Mr. Oldbuck." 
 
 " Returned ? — What the devil ! he has not let the fellow go ? " 
 
 " No — I understand he has carried him to confinement ; and 
 now he is returned to attend my father, and says he can wait no 
 longer." 
 
 A loud wrangling was now heard on the staircase, in which the 
 voice of Hector predominated. " You an officer, sir, and these 
 ragamuffins a party ! a parcel of beggarly tailor fellows — tell your- 
 selves off by nine, and we shall know your effective strength." 
 
 The grumbling voice of the man of law was then heard indis- 
 tinctly muttering a reply, to which Hector retorted — " Come, come, 
 sir, this won't do ; march your party, as you call them, out of this 
 house directly, or 1'U send you and them to the right about 
 presently." 
 
 " The devil take Hector," said the Antiquary hastening to the 
 scene of action ; " his Highland blood is up again, and we shall 
 have him fighting a duel with the bailiff. — Come, Mr. Sweepclean, 
 you must give us a little time — I know you would not wish to hurry 
 Sir Arthur." 
 
 "By no means, sir," said the messenger, putting his hat off, 
 which he had thrown on to testify defiance of Captain M'Intyre's 
 threats ; " but your nephew, sir, holds very uncivil language, and 
 1 have borne too much of it already^; and I am not justified in 
 leaving my prisoner any longer after the instructions I received, 
 unless I am to get payment of the sums contained in my diligence." 
 
3S0 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 And he held out the caption, pointing with the awful truncheon 
 which he held in his right hand, to the formidable line of figures 
 jotted upon the back thereof. 
 
 Hector, on the other hand, though silent from respect to his 
 uncle, answered this gesture by shaking his clenched fist at the 
 messenger with a frown of Highland wrath. 
 
 " Foolish boy, be quiet," said Oldbuck, " and come with me into 
 the room — the man is doing his miserable duty, and you will only 
 make matters worse by opposing him. — 1 fear. Sir Arthur, you 
 must accompany this man to Fairport ; there is no help for it in 
 the first instance — I will accompany you, to consult what farther 
 can be done — My nephew will escort Miss Wardour to Monkbarns, 
 which I hope she will make her residence until these unpleasant 
 matters are settled." 
 
 " I go with my father, Mr. Oldbuck," said Miss Wardour, firmly 
 — " I have prepared his clothes and my own — I suppose we shall 
 have the use of the carriage ? " 
 
 " Anything in reason, madam," said the messenger, " I have 
 ordered it out, and it's at the door — I wiU go on the box with the 
 coachman — I have no desire to intrude — but two of the con- 
 currents must attend on horseback." 
 
 " I will attend too," said Hector, and he ran down to secure 
 a horse for himself. , 
 
 " We must go then," said the Antiquary. 
 
 " To jail," said the Baronet, sighing involuntarily. " And what 
 of that?" he resumed in a tone affectedly cheerful — "it is only a 
 house we can't get out of, after all — Suppose a fit of the gout, and 
 Knockwinnock would be the same — Ay, ay, Monkbarns, we'll call 
 it a fit of the gout without the d — d pain." 
 
 But his eyes swelled with tears as he spoke, and his faltering 
 accent marked how much this assumed gaiety cost him. The 
 Antiquary wrung his hand, and, like the Indian Banians, who drive 
 the real terms of an important bargain by signs, while they are 
 apparently talking of indifferent matters, the hand of Sir Arthur, 
 by its convulsive return of the grasp, expressed his sense of grati- 
 tude to his friend, and the real state of his internal agony. They 
 stepped slowly down the magnificent staircase — every well-known 
 object seeming to the unfortunate father and daughter to assume a 
 more prominent and distinct appearance than usual, as if to press 
 themselves on their notice for the last time. 
 
 At the first landing-place, Sir Arthur made an agonised pause ; 
 and as he observed the Antiquary look at him anxiously, he said 
 with assumed dignity — " Yes, Mr. Oldbuck, the descendant of an 
 ancient line — the representative of Richard Redhand and Gamelyn 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 351 
 
 de Guardover, may be pardoned a sigh when he leaves the castle of 
 his fathers thus poorly escorted. When I was sent to the Tower 
 with my late father, in the year 1745, it was npon a charge becom- 
 ing our birth — Upon an accusation of high treason, Mr. Oldbuck ; 
 — ^we were escorted from Highgate by a troop of life-guards, and 
 committed upon a secretary of state's warrant ; and now, here I 
 am, in my old age, dragged from my household by a miserable 
 creature like that" (pointing to the messenger), "and for a paltry 
 concern of pounds, shillings, and pence." 
 
 " At least," said Oldbuck,, " you have now the company of a du- 
 tiful daughter, and a sincere friend, if you will permit me to say so, 
 and that may be some consolation, even without the certainty that 
 there can be no hanging, drawing, or quartering, on the present 
 occasion. — But I hear that choleric boy as loud as ever. I hope to 
 God he has got into no new broil ! — it was an accursed chance that 
 brought him here at all." 
 
 In fact, a sudden clamour, in which the loud voice and somewhat 
 northern accent of Hector was again pre-eminently distinguished, 
 broke off this conversation. The cause we must refer to the next 
 chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Fortune, you say, flies from us — She but circles, 
 
 Like the fleet sea-bird round the fowler's skiff, — 
 
 Lost in the mist one moment, and the next 
 
 Brushing the white sail with her whiter wing. 
 
 As if to court the aim. — Experience watches, 
 
 And has her on the wheel. Old Play. 
 
 The shout of triumph in Hector's warlike tones was not easily 
 distinguished from that of battle. But as he rushed upstairs with 
 a packet in his hand, exclaiming, " Long life to an old soldier ! 
 here comes Edie with a whole budget of good news ! " it became 
 obvious that his present cause of clamour was of an agreeable 
 nature. He delivered the letter to Oldbuck, shook Sir Arthur 
 heartily by the hand, and wished Miss Wardour joy, with all the 
 frankness of Highland congratulation. The messenger, who had 
 a kind of instmctive terror for Captain M'Intyre, drew towards his 
 prisoner, keeping an eye of caution on the soldier's motions. 
 
 " Don't suppose I shall trouble myself about you, you dirty fel- 
 low," said the soldier ; " there's a guinea for the fright I have given 
 you ; and here comes an old forty-two man, who is a fitter match 
 for you than I am." 
 
 The messenger (one of those dogs who are not too scornful to eat 
 
3S2 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 dirty puddings) caught in his hand the guinea which Hector 
 chucked at his face ; and abode warily and carefully the turn which 
 matters were now to take. All voices meanwhile were loud in in- 
 quiries, which no one was in a hurry to answer. 
 
 "What is the matter, Captain M'Intyre?" said Sir Arthur. 
 
 " Ask old Edie," said Hector ; " I only know all's safe and 
 well." 
 
 " What is all this, Edie ? " said Miss Wardour to the mendicant. 
 
 " Your leddyship maun ask Monkbarns, for he has gotten the 
 yepistolary correspondensh." 
 
 " God save the king ! " exclaimed the Antiquary, at the iirst 
 glance of the contents of his packet, and surprised at once out of 
 decorum, philosophy, and phlegm, he skimmed his cocked-hat in 
 the air, from which it descended not again, being caught in its fall 
 by a branch of the chandelier. He next, looking joyously round, 
 laid a grasp on his wig, which he perhaps would have sent after 
 the beaver, had not Edie stopped his hand, exclaiming, " Lord- 
 sake ! he's gaun gyte ! — mind Caxon's no here to repair the 
 damage." 
 
 Every person now assailed the Antiquary, clamouring to know 
 the cause of so sudden a transport, when, somewhat ashamed of 
 his rapture, he fairly turned tail, like a fox at the cry of a pack of 
 hounds, and, ascending the stair by two steps at a time, gained 
 the upper landing-place, where, turning round, he addressed the 
 astonished audience as follows : — 
 
 " My good fr;ends, favete Unguis — To give you information, I 
 must first, according to logicians, be possessed of it myself; and, 
 therefore, with your leaves, I will retire into the library to examine 
 these' papers — Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour will have the good- 
 ness to step into the parlour — Mr. Sweepclean, secede paulisper, or, 
 in your own language, grant us a supersedere of diligence for five 
 minutes — Hector, draw off your forces, and make your bear-garden 
 flourish elsewhere — And, finally, be all of good cheer till my return, 
 which will be instanter." 
 
 The contents of the packet were indeed so little expected, that 
 the Antiquary might be pardoned, first his ecstacy, and next his 
 desire of delaying to communicate the intelligence they conveyed, 
 until it was arranged and digested in his own mind. 
 
 Within the envelope was a letter addressed to Jonathan Old- 
 buck, Esq., of Monkbarns, of the following purport : — 
 
 " Dear Sir, — To you, as my father's proved and valued friend, I 
 ver^ture to address myself, being detained here by military duty of 
 a very pressing nature. You must by this time be acquainted with 
 the entangled state of our affairs ; and I know it will give you great 
 
H 
 
 ■s" 
 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 353 
 
 pleasure to learn, that I am as fortunately as unexpectedly placed 
 in a situation to give effectual assistance for extricating them. I 
 understand Sir Arthur is threatened with severe measures by per- 
 sons who acted formerly as his agents ; and, by advice of a credit- 
 able man of business here, I have procured the enclosed writing, 
 which I understand will stop their proceedings until their claim 
 shall be legally discussed, and brought down to its proper amount. 
 I also enclose bills to the amount of one thousand pounds to pay 
 any other pressing demands, and request of your friendship to 
 apply them according to your discretion. You will be surprised I 
 give you this trouble, when it would seem more natural to address 
 my father directly in his own affairs. But I have yet had no assur- 
 ance that his eyes are opened to the character of a person against 
 whom you have often, I know, warned him, and whose baneful in- 
 fluence has been the occasion of these distresses. And as I owe the 
 means of relieving Sir Arthur to the generosity of a niatchless 
 friend, it is my duty to take the most certain measures for the sup- 
 plies being devoted to the purpose for which they were destined, 
 and I know your wisdom and kindness will see that it is done. My 
 friend, as he claims an interest in your regard, will explain some 
 views of his own in the enclosed letter. The state of the post-office 
 at Fairport being rather notorious, I must send this letter to Tan- 
 nonburgh ; but the old man Ochiltree, whom particular circum- 
 stances have recommended as trustworthy, has information when 
 the packet is likely to reach that place, and will take care to for- 
 ward it. I expect to have soon an opportunity to apologize in per- 
 son for the trouble I now give, and have the honour to be your very 
 faithful servant, Reginald Gamelyn Wardour. — Edinburgh, 
 6th August 179—." 
 
 The Antiquary hastily broke the seal of the enclosure, the con- 
 tents of which gave him equal surprise and pleasure. When he 
 had in some measure composed himself after such unexpected 
 tidings, he inspected the other papers carefully, which all related to 
 business — put the bills into his pocket-book, and wrote a short ac- 
 knowledgment to be dispatched by that day's post, for he was ex- 
 tremely methodical in money matters — and lastly, fraught with all 
 the importance of disclosure, he descended to the parlour, 
 
 " Sweepclean," said he, as he entered, to the officer who stood 
 respectfully at the door, " you must sweep yourself clean out of 
 Knockwinnock Castle with all your followers, tag-rag and bob-tail, 
 See'st thou this paper, man ?" 
 
 " A sist on a bill o' suspension,'* said the messenger, with a dis- 
 appointed look ; " I thought it would be a queer thing if ultimate 
 diligence was to be done against sic a gentleman as Sir Arthur — 
 
 z 
 
3S4 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Weel, sir, I'se go my ways with my party — And who's to pay my 
 charges ? " 
 
 " They who employed thee," replied Oldbuck, " as thou full well 
 dost know. — But here comes another express : this is a day of news, 
 I think." 
 
 This was Mr. Mailsetter on his mare from Fairport, with a letter 
 for Sir Arthur, another to the messenger, both of which, he said, he 
 was directed to forward instantly. The messenger opened his, ob- 
 serving, that Greenhorn and Grinderson were good enough men for 
 his expenses, and here was a letter from them desiring him to stop 
 the diligence. Accordingly, he immediately left the apartment, and 
 staying no longer than to gather his posse together, he did then, in 
 the phrase of Hector, who watched his departure as a jealous mastiff 
 eyes the retreat of a repulsed beggar, evacuate Flanders. 
 
 Sir Arthur's letter was from Mr. Greenhorn, and a curiosity in its 
 way. We give it, with the worthy Baronet's comments. 
 
 " Sir — [Oh ! I am dear sir no longer ; folks are only dear to 
 Messrs Greenhorn and Grinderson when they are in adversity] — ■ 
 Sir, I am much concerned to learn, on my return from the country, 
 where I was called on particular business [a bet on the sweep- 
 stakes, I suppose], that my partner had the impropriety, in my ab- 
 sence, to undertake the concerns of Messrs. Goldiebirds in prefer- 
 ence to yours, and had written to you in an unbecoming manner. I 
 beg to make my most humble apology, as well as Mr. Grinderson's 
 — [come, I see he can write for himself and partner too], and trust 
 it is impossible you can think me forgetful of, or ungrateful for, the 
 constant patronage which my family {his family ! curse him for a 
 puppy !] have uniformly experienced from that of Knockwinnock. 
 I am sorry to find, from an interview I had this day with Mr. War- 
 dour, that he is much irritated, and, I must own, with apparent 
 reason. But, in order to remedy as much as in me lies the mistake 
 of which he complains [pretty mistake, indeed ! to clap his patron 
 into jail], I have sent this express to discharge all proceedings 
 against your person or property ; and at the same time to transmit 
 my respectful apology. I have only to add, that Mr. Grinderson is of 
 opinion, that, if restored to your confidence, he could point out 
 circumstances connected with Messrs. Goldiebirds' present claim 
 which would greatly reduce its amount [so, so, willing to play the 
 rogue on either side ;] and that there is not the slightest hurry in 
 settling the balance of your accompt with us ; and that I am, for 
 Mr. G. as well as myself. Dear Sir [O ay, he has written himself 
 into an approach to familiarity], your much obliged, and most 
 humble servant, Gilbert Greenhorn." 
 
 " Well said, Mr. Gilbert Greenhorn," said Monkbams ; " I see 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 35S 
 
 now there is some use in having two attorneys in one firm. Their 
 movements resemble those of the man and woman in a Dutch 
 baby-house. When it is fair weather with the dient, out comes the 
 gentleman partner to fawn like a spaniel ; when it is foul, forth 
 bolts the operative brother to pin like a bull-dog — Well, I thank 
 God that my man of business still wears an equilateral cocked hat, 
 has a house in the Old Town, is as much afraid of a horse as I am 
 myself, plays at golf of a Saturday, goes to the kirk of a Sunday, 
 and, in respect he has no partner, hath only his own folly to apolo- 
 gize for." 
 
 " There are some writers very honest fellows," said Hector ; " I 
 should like to hear any one say that my cousin, Donald M'Intyre, 
 Strathtudlem's seventh son (the other six are in the army), is not as 
 honest a fellow " 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt. Hector, all the M'Intyres are so ; they 
 have it by patent, man— But I was going to say, that in a profes- 
 sion where unbounded trust is necessarily reposed, there is nothing 
 surprising that fools should neglect it in their idleness, and trick- 
 sters abuse it in their knavery. But it is the more to the honour of 
 those (and I will vouch for many) who unite integrity with skill and 
 attention, and walk honourably upright where there are so many 
 pitfalls and stumbling blocks for those of a different character. To 
 such men their fellow-citizens may safely intrust the care of pro- 
 tecting their patrimonial rights, and their country the more sacred 
 charge of her laws and privileges.'' 
 
 " They are best aff, however, that hae least to do with them," 
 said Ochiltree, who had stretched his neck into the parlour door ; 
 for the general confusion of the family not having yet subsided, 
 the domestics, like waves after the fall of a hurricane, had not yet 
 exactly regained their due limits, but were roaming wildly through 
 the house. 
 
 "Aha, old Truepenny, art thou there?" said the Antiquary; 
 " Sir Arthur, let me bring in the messenger of good luck, though 
 he is but a lame one. You talked of the raven that scented but 
 the slaughter from afar ; but here's a blue pigeon (somewhat of the 
 oldest and toughest, I grant) who smeUed the good news six or 
 seven miles off, flew thither in the taxed-cart, and returned with the 
 oUve branch." 
 
 " Ye owe it a' to puir Robie that drave me ; — puir fallow," said 
 the beggar, "he doubts he's in disgrace wi' my leddy and 
 Sir Arthur." 
 
 Robert's repentant and bashful face was seen over the mendi- 
 cant's shoulder. 
 
 " In disgrace with me?" said Sir Arthur — "how so?" — for the 
 
 z 2 
 
3S6 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 irritation into which he had worked himself on occasion of the 
 toast had been long forgotten.—" Oh, I recollect — Robert, I was 
 angry, and you were wrong ; — go about your work, and never 
 answer a master that speaks to you in a passion." 
 
 "Nor any one else," said the Antiquary; "for a soft answer 
 turneth away wrath." 
 
 " And tell your mother, who is so ill with the rheumatism, to 
 come down to the housekeeper to-morrow," said Miss Wardour, 
 " and we will see what can be of service to her." 
 
 " God bless your leddyship," said poor Robert, " and his honour 
 Sir Arthur, and the young laird, and the house of Knockwinnock 
 in a' its branches, far and near! — it's been a kind and a gude 
 house to the puir this mony hundred years." 
 
 "There"— said the Antiquary to Sir Arthur— "we won't dispute — 
 but there you see the gratitude of the poor people naturally 
 turns to the civil virtues of your family. You don't hear them 
 talk of Redhand, or Hell-in-Harness. For me, I must say, Odi 
 accipiirem qui semper vivit in armis—so let us eat and drink in 
 peace, and be joyful. Sir Knight." 
 
 A table was quickly covered in the parlour, where the party sat 
 joyously down to some refreshment. At the request of Oldbuck, 
 Edie Ochiltree was permitted to sit by the sideboard in a great 
 leathern chair, which was placed in some measuie behind a 
 screen. 
 
 " I accede to this the more readily," said Sir Arthur, " because 
 I remember in my father's days that chair was occupied by Ailshie 
 Gourlay, who, for aught I know, was the last privileged fool, or 
 jester, maintained by any family of distinction in Scotland." 
 
 " Aweel, Sir Arthur," replied the beggar, who never hesitated an 
 instant between his friend and his jest, " mony a wise man sits in a 
 fule's seat, and mony a fule in a wise man's, especially in families 
 o' distinction." 
 
 Miss Wardour, fearing the effect of this speech (however worthy 
 of Ailshie Gourlay, or any other privileged jester) upon the nerves 
 of her father, hastened to inquire whether ale and beef should not 
 be distributed to the servants and people whom the news had 
 assembled around the castle. 
 
 " Surely, my love," said her father ; " when was it ever otherwise 
 in our families when a siege had been raised ? " 
 
 " Ay, a siege laid by Saunders Sweepclean the bailiff, and raised 
 by Edie Ochiltree, the gaberlunzie, par nobile fratrum" said Old- 
 buck, " and well pitted against each other in respectability. But 
 never mind. Sir Arthur — these are such sieges and such reliefs 
 as our time of day admits of— and our escape is not less worth 
 
THK ANTIQUARY. 357 
 
 commemorating m a glass of this excellent wine — Upon my credit, 
 it is Burgundy, I think." 
 
 " Were there anything better in the cellar," said Miss Wardour, 
 "it would be all too little to regale you after your friendly 
 exertions." 
 
 " Say you so ? " said the Antiquary — " why, then, a cup of thanks 
 to you, my fair enemy, and soon may you be besieged as ladies 
 love best to be, and sign terms of capitulation in the chapel of 
 Saint Winnox ! " 
 
 Miss Wardour blushed. Hector coloured, and then grew pale. 
 
 Sir Arthur answered, " My daughter is much obliged to you, 
 Monkbarns ; but unless you'll accept of her yourself, I really do 
 not know where a poor knight's daughter is to seek for an 
 alliance in these mercenary times." 
 
 " Me, mean ye, Sir Arthur ? — No, not I ; I will claim the privilege 
 of the duello, and, as being unable to encounter my fair enemy 
 myself, I will appear by my champion — But of this matter here- 
 after. — What do you find in the papers there. Hector, that you 
 hold your head down over them as if your nose were bleeding .'' " 
 
 " Nothing particular, sir ; but only that, as my arm is now almost 
 quite well, I think I shall relieve you of my company in a day 
 or two, and go to Edinburgh. I see Major Neville is arrived there. 
 I should like to see him." 
 
 "Major whom ?" said his uncle. 
 
 " Major Neville, sir," answered the young soldier. 
 
 "And who the devil is Major Neville?" demanded the Anti- 
 quary. 
 
 " O, Mr. Oldbuck," said Sir Arthur, " you must remember his 
 name frequently in the newspapers — a very distinguished young 
 officer indeed. But I am happy to say that Mr. M'Intyre need 
 not leave Monkbarns to see him, for my son writes that the 
 Major is to come with him to Knockwinnock, and I need not 
 say how happy I shall be to make the young gentlemen acquainted, 
 — unless, indeed, they are known to each other already." 
 
 "No, not personally," answered Hector, "but I have had oc- 
 casion to hear a good deal of him, and we have several mutual 
 friends — your son being one of them. But I must go to Edin- 
 burgh ; for I see my uncle is beginning to grow tired of me, and 
 I am afraid " 
 
 " That you will grow tired of him ? " interrupted Oldbuck, — " I 
 fear that's past praying for. But you have forgotten that the 
 ecstatic twelfth of August approaches, and that you are engaged 
 to meet one of Lord Glenallan's gamekeepers, God knows where, 
 to persecute the peaceful feathered creation." 
 
3Sff THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 " True, true, uncle — I had forgot that," exclaimed the volatile 
 Hector ; " but you said something just now that put everything out 
 of my head." 
 
 "An it like your honours," said old Edie, thrusting his white 
 head from behind the screen, where he had been plentifully 
 regaling himself with ale and cold meat — " an it like your honours, 
 I can teU ye something that will keep the Captain wi' us amaist as 
 wee! as the pouting — Hear ye na the French are coming ? " 
 
 " The French, you blockhead ? " answered Oldbuck— " Bah ! " 
 
 " I have not had time," said Sir Arthur Wardour, " to look over 
 my lieutenancy correspondence for the week — indeed, I generally 
 make a rule to read it only on Wednesdays, except in pressing 
 cases, — for I do everything by method ; — but from the glance I 
 took of my letters, I observed some alarm was entertained." 
 
 "Alarm?" said Edie, — "troth there's alarm, for the provost's 
 gar'd the beacon light on the Halket-head be sorted up (that suld 
 hae been sorted half a year syne) in an unco hurry, and the council 
 hae named nae less a man than auld Caxon himsell to watch the 
 light. Some say it was out o' compliment to Lieutenant Taffril, — 
 for its neist to certain that he'll marry Jenny Caxon — some say 
 it's to please your honour and Monkbarns that wear wigs — and 
 some say there's some auld story about a periwig that ane o' the 
 bailies got and ne'er paid for — Onyway, there he is, sitting cockit 
 up like a skart upon the tap o' the craig, to skirl when foul 
 weather comes." 
 
 " On mine honour, a pretty warder," said Monkbarns ; " and 
 what's my wig to do all the while ? " 
 
 " I asked Caxon that very question," answered Ochiltree, " and 
 he said he could look in ilka morning, and gie't a totich afore he 
 gaed to his bed, for there's another man to watch in the day-time, 
 and Caxon says he'll frizz your honour's wig as weel sleeping as 
 wauking." 
 
 This news gave a different turn to the conversation, which ran 
 upon national defence, and the duty of fighting for the land we 
 live in, until it was time to part. The Antiquary and his nephew 
 resumed their walk homeward, after parting from Knockwinnock 
 with the warmest expressions of mutual regard, and an agreement 
 to meet again as soon as possible. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 359 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 Nay, if she love me not, I care not for her : 
 Shall I look pale because the maiden blooms ? 
 Or sigh because she smiles, and smiles on others? 
 Not I, by Heaven ! — I hold my peace too dear, 
 To let it, like the plume upon her cap. 
 Shake at each nod that her caprice shall dictate. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 " Hector," said his uncle to Captain M'Intyre, in the course of 
 their walk homeward, " I am sometimes inclined to suspect that, 
 in one respect, you are a fool." 
 
 " If you only think me so in one respect, sir, I am sure you do 
 me more grace than I expected or deserve." 
 
 " I mean in one particular ^ar excellence" answered the 
 Antiquary. " I have sometimes thought that you have cast your 
 eyes upon Miss Wardour." 
 
 "Well, sir," said M'Intyre, with much composure. 
 
 " Well, sir ! " echoed his uncle, " deuce take the fellow ! he 
 answers me as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, 
 that he, a captain in the army, and nothing at all besides, should 
 marry the daughter of a baronet." 
 
 " I presume to think, sir," said the young Highlander, " there 
 would be no degradation on Miss Wardour's part in point of 
 family." 
 
 " O, Heaven forbid we should come on that topic ! — No, no, 
 equal both — both on the table-land of gentility, and qualified to 
 look down on every roturier in Scotland." 
 
 " And in point of fortune we are pretty even, since neither of us 
 have got any," continued Hector. " There may be an error, but 
 I cannot plead guilty to presumption." 
 
 ■" But here lies the error, then, if you call it so," replied his 
 uncle : " she won't have you. Hector." " Indeed, sir ? " 
 
 "It is very sure. Hector; and to make it double sure, I must 
 inform you that she likes another man. She misunderstood some 
 words I once said to her, and I have since been able to guess 
 at the interpretation she put on them. At the time I was unable 
 to account for her hesitation and blushing'; but, my poor Hector, I 
 now understand them as a death-signal to your hopes and pre- 
 tensions. — So I advise you to beat your retreat, and draw off your 
 forces as well as you can, for the fort is too well garrisoned for you 
 to storm it." 
 
 " I have no occasion to beat any retreat, uncle," said Hector, 
 
 holding himself very upright, and marching with a sort of dogged 
 
 , and offended solemnity ; " no man needs to retreat that has never 
 
36o THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 advanced. There are women in Scotland besides Miss Wardour, 
 of as good family " 
 
 " And better taste," said his uncle ; "doubtless there are, Hector; 
 and though I cannot say but that she is one of the most accom- 
 plished as well as sensible girls I have seen, yet I doubt much of her 
 merit would be cast away on you. A showy figure, now, with two 
 cross feathers above her noddle — one green, one blue ; who would 
 wear a riding-habit of the regimental complexion, drive a gig one 
 day, and the next review the regiment on the grey trotting pony 
 which dragged that vehicle, hoc erat invotis. — These are the 
 qualities that would subdue you, especially if she had a taste for 
 natural history, and loved a specimen of a phoca." 
 
 " It is a little hard, sir," said Hector, " I must have that cursed 
 seal thrown into my face on all occasions — but I care little about 
 it — and I shall not break my heart for Miss Wardour. She is free 
 to choose for herself, and I wish her all happiness." 
 
 " Magnanimously resolved, thou prop of Troy.' Why, Hector, I 
 was afraid of a scene. — Your sister told me you were desperately in 
 love with Miss Wardour." 
 
 " Sir," answered the young man, " you would not have me des- 
 perately in love with a woman that does not care about me ? " 
 
 " Well, nephew," said the Antiquary, more seriously, " there is 
 doubtless much sense in what you say ; yet I would have given a 
 great deal, some twenty or twenty-five years since, to have been 
 able to think as you do." 
 
 " Anybody, I suppose, may think as they please on such sub- 
 jects," said Hector. 
 
 " Not according to the old school," said Oldbuck ; " but, as I 
 said before, the practice of the modern seems in this case the most 
 prudential, though, I think, scarcely the most interesting. But tell 
 me your ideas now on this prevailing subject of an invasion. — The 
 cry is still. They come." 
 
 Hector, swallowing his mortification, which he was peculiarly 
 anxious to conceal from his uncle's satirical observation, readily 
 entered into a conversation which was to turn the Antiquary's 
 thoughts from Miss Wardour and the seal. When they reached 
 Monkbarns, the communicating to the ladies the events which had 
 taken place at the Castle, with the counter-information of how 
 long dinner had waited before the womankind had ventured to eat 
 it in their absence, averted these delicate topics of discussion. 
 
 The next morning the Antiquary arose early, and, as Caxon had 
 not yet made his appearance, he began mentally to feel the 
 absence of the petty news and small talk of which the ex-peruquier 
 was a faithful reporter, and which habit had made as necessary to 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 361 
 
 the Antiquary as his occasional pinch of snufF, although he held, 
 or affected to hold, both to be of the same intrinsic value. The 
 feeling of vacuity peculiar to such a deprivation, was alleviated by 
 the appearance of old Ochiltree, sauntering beside the clipped yew 
 and holly hedges, with the air of a person quite at home. In- 
 deed, so familiar had he been of late, that even Juno did not 
 bark at him, but contented herself with watching him with a close 
 and vigilant eye. Our Antiquary tepped out in his night-gown, 
 and instantly received and returned bis greeting. 
 
 " They are coming now, in good earnest, Monkbarns. — I just cam 
 £rae Fairport to bring ye the news, and then I'll step away back 
 again. — The Search has just come into the bay, and they say she's 
 been chased by a French fleet." 
 
 " The Search ? " said Oldbuck, reflecting a moment. " Oho ! " 
 
 " Ay, ay, Captain Taffril's gun-brig, the Search." 
 
 " What ! any relation to Search, No. II. ?" said Oldbuck, catch- 
 ing at the light which the name of the vessel seemed to throw on 
 the mysterious chest of treasure. 
 
 The mendicant, like a man detected in a frolic, put his bonnet 
 before his face, yet could not help laughing heartily. — " The deil's 
 in you, Monkbarns, for garring odds and evens meet. — Wha thought 
 ye wad hae laid that and that thegither ? — Od, I am clean catch'd." 
 
 " I see it all," said Oldbuck, " as plain as the legend on a medal 
 of high preservation — the box in which the bullion was found 
 belonged to the gun-brig, and the treasure to my phoenix ? " — (Edie 
 nodded assent.) — " And was buried there that Sir Arthur might 
 receive relief in his difficulties ? " 
 
 "By me," said Edie, "and twa o' the brig's men — but they didna 
 ken its contents, and thought it some bit smuggling concern o' the 
 Captain's. I watched day and night till I saw it in the right hand ; 
 and then, when that German deevil was glowering at the lid o' the 
 kist (they liked mutton weel that licket where the yowe lay), I 
 think some Scottish deevil put it into my head to play him yon 
 ither cantrip.— Now, ye see, if I had said mair or less to Bailie 
 Littlejohn, I behoved till hae come out wi' a' this story ; and vexed 
 would Mr. Lovel hae been to have it brought to light — sae I thought 
 I would stand to onything rather than that." 
 
 " I must say he has chosen his confidant well," said Oldbuck, 
 " though somewhat strangely." 
 
 " 1 say this for mysell, Monkbarns," answered the mendicant, 
 " that I am the fittest man in the haill country to trust wi' siller, for 
 I neither want it, nor wish for it, nor could use it if I had it. But 
 the lad hadna muckle choice in the matter, for he thought he was 
 leaving the country for ever (I trust he's mistaen in that though) ; 
 
363 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 and the night was set in when we learned, by a strange chance, Sir 
 Arthur's sair distress, and Lovel was obliged to be on board as the 
 day dawned. But five'nights afterwards the brig stood in to the bay, 
 and I met the boat by appointment, and we buried the treasure 
 where ye fand it." 
 
 " This was a very romantic, foolish exploit," said Oldbuck : — "why 
 not trust me, or a.ny other friend ? " 
 
 " The blood o' your sister's son," replied Edie, "was on his hands, 
 and him maybe dead outright — ^what time had he to take counsel? 
 — or how could he ask it of you, by onybody ?" 
 
 "You are right. — But what if D ousters wivel had come before 
 you?" 
 
 " There was little fear o' his coming there without Sir Arthur — 
 he had gotten a sair gliff the night afore, and never intended to look 
 near the place again, unless he had been brought there sting and 
 ling. — He ken'd weel the first pose was o' his ain hiding, and how 
 could he expect a second ? He just havered on about it to make 
 the mair o' Sir Arthur." 
 
 "Then how," said Oldbuck, " should Sir Arthur have come there 
 unless the German had brought him ? " 
 
 " Umph ! " answered Edie dryly. " I had a story about Misticot 
 wad hae brought him forty miles, or you either. Besides, it was to be 
 thought he would be for visiting the place he fand the first siller in 
 — he ken'd na the secret o' that job. In short, the siller being in 
 this shape. Sir Arthur in utter difficulties, and Lovel determined he 
 should never ken the hand that helped him, — for that was what he 
 insisted maist upon, — we couldna think o' a better way to fling the 
 gear in his gate, though we simmered it and wintered it e'er sae 
 lang. And if by ony queer mischance Doustercivil had got his 
 claws on't, I was instantly to hae informed you or the Sheriff o' the 
 haill story." 
 
 " Well, notwithstanding all these wise precautions, I think your 
 contrivance succeeded better than such a clumsy one deserved, 
 Edie. But how came Lovel by such a mass of silver ingots ? " 
 
 " That's just what I canna tell ye — But they were put on board 
 wi' his things at Fairport, it's. like, and we stowed them into ane o' 
 the ammunition-boxes o' the brig, baith for concealment and con- 
 venience of carriage." 
 
 " Lord ! " said Oldbuck, his recollection recurring to the earlier 
 part of his acquaintance with Lovel ; " and this young fellow, who 
 was putting hundreds on so strange a hazard, I must be reconv 
 mending a subscription to him, and paying his bill at the Ferry ! \ 
 never will pay any person's bill again, that's certain. — And you 
 kept up a constant correspondence with Lovel, I suppose ? " , 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 363 
 
 " I just gat ae bit scrape o' a pen frae him, to say there wad, as 
 yesterday fell, be a packet at Tannonburgh, wi' letters o' great 
 consequence to the Knockwinnock folk ; for they jaloused the open- 
 ing of our letters to Fairport — And that's as true, I hear Mrs. 
 Mailsetter is to lose her office for looking after other folk's busi- 
 ness and neglecting her ain." 
 
 " And what do you expect now, Edie, for being the adviser, and 
 messenger, and guard, and confidential person in all these matters ? " 
 
 " Deil haet do I expect — excepting that a' the gentles will come 
 to the gaberlunzie's burial ; and maybe ye'll carry the head your- 
 sell, as ye did puir Steenie Mucklebackit's.— What trouble was't to 
 me ? I was ganging about at ony rate — O t)ut I was blythe when I 
 got out of prison, though ; for I thought, what if that weary letter 
 should come when I am closed up here like an oystei', and a' should 
 gang wrang for want o't ? and whiles I thought I maun make - a 
 clean breast and tell you a' about it ; but then I couldna weel do 
 that without contravening Mr. Level's positive orders ; and I 
 reckon he had to see somebody at Edinburgh afore he could do 
 what he wussed to do for Sir Arthur and his family." 
 
 "Well, and to your public news, Edie — So they are still coming, 
 are they ? " 
 
 "Troth they say sae, sir ; and there's come down strict orders for 
 the forces and volunteers to be alert ; and there's a clever young 
 officer to come here forthwith, to look at our means o' defence — I 
 saw the Bailie's lass cleaning his belts and white breeks — I gae her 
 a hand, for ye maun think she wasna ower clever at it, and sae I 
 gat a' the news for my pains." 
 
 " And what think you, as an old soldier ? " 
 
 " Troth, I kenna — an they come sae mony as they speak o' 
 they'll be odds against us — But there's mony yauld chields amang 
 thae volunteers ; and I maunna say muckle about them that's no 
 weel and no very able, because I am something that gate mysell — 
 But we'se do our best." 
 
 "What ! so your martial spirit is rising again, Edie ? 
 
 ' Even in our ashes glow their wonted fires ! ' 
 
 I would not have thought you, Edie, had so much to fight for ? " 
 
 "Me no muckle to fight for, sir?— isna there the country to fight 
 for, and the burnsides that I gang daundering beside, and the 
 hearths o' the gudewives that gie me my bit bread, and the bits o' 
 weans that come toddling to play wi' me when I come about a land- 
 ward town? — Deil ! " he continued, grasping his pikestaff with great 
 emphasis, " an I had as gude pith as I hae gude-will, and a gude 
 cause, I should gie some o' them a day's kemping." 
 
364 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "Bravo, bravo, Edie ! The country's in little ultimate danger, when 
 the beggar's as ready to fight for his dish as the laird for his land." 
 
 Their further conversation reverted to the particulars of the night 
 passed by the mendicant and Lovel in the ruins of St. Ruth ; by the 
 details of which the Antiquary was highly amused. 
 
 " I would have given a guinea," he said, " to have seen the 
 scoundrelly German under the agonies of those terrors, which it is 
 part of his own quackery to inspire into others ; and trembling 
 alternately for the fury of his patron, and the apparition of some 
 hobgoblin." 
 
 " Troth," said the beggar, " there was time for him to be cowed ; 
 for ye wadhae thought the very spirit of Hell-in-Harness had taken 
 possession o' the body o' Sir Arthur. — But what will come o' the 
 land-louper ? " 
 
 " I have had a letter this morning, from which I understand he 
 has acquitted you of the charge he brought against you, and offers to 
 make such discoveries as will render the settlement of Sir Arthur's 
 affairs a more easy task than we apprehended — So writes the 
 Sheriff; and adds, that he has given some private information of 
 importance to Government, in consideration of which, I understand 
 he will be sent back to play the knave in his own country." 
 
 "And a' the bonny engines, and wheels, and the coves, and 
 sheughs, doun at Glenwithershins yonder, what's to come o'them?" 
 said Edie. 
 
 " I hope the men, before they are dispersed, will make a bonfire 
 of their gimcracks, as an army destroy their artillery when forced to 
 raise a siege. And as for the holes, Edie, I abandon them as rat- 
 traps, for the benefit of the next wise men who may choose to drop 
 the substance to snatch at a shadow." 
 
 " Hech, sirs ! guide us a' ! to burn the engines ! that's a great 
 waste — Had ye na better try to get back part o' your hundred 
 pounds wi' the sale o' the materials ? " he continued, with a tone of 
 affected condolence. 
 
 " Not a farthing," said the Antiquary, peevishly, taking a turn 
 from him, and making a step or two away. Then returning, half- 
 smiling at his own pettishness, he said, " Get thee into the house, 
 Edie, and remember my counsel : never speak to me about a mine, 
 nor to my nephew Hector about a phoca, that is a sealgh, as vou 
 call it." 
 
 " I maun be ganging my ways back to Fairport," said the wan- 
 derer ; " I want to see what they're saying there about the invasion ; 
 — but I'll mind what your honour says, no to speak to you about a 
 sealgh, or to the Captain about the hundred pounds that you gied 
 to Douster "—— 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 365 
 
 " Confound thee ! — I desired thee not to mention that to me." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Edie, with affected surprise ; " weel, I thought 
 there was naething but what your honour could hae studden in the 
 way o' agreeable conversation, unless it was about the Prjetorian 
 yonder, or the bodle that the packman sauld to ye for an auld coin." 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! " said the Antiquary, turning from him hastily, 
 and retreating into the house. 
 
 The mendicant looked after him a moment, and, with a chuckling 
 laugh, such as that with which a magpie or parrot applauds a success- 
 ful exploit of mischief, he resumed once more the road to Fairport. 
 His habits had given him a sort of restlessness, much increased by 
 the pleasure he took in gathering news ; and in a short time he had 
 regained the town which he left in the morning, for no reason that 
 he knew himself, unless just to " hae a bit crack wi' Monkbarns." 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Red glared the beacon on Pownell, 
 
 On Skiddaw there were three ; 
 The bugle-horn on moor and fell 
 
 Was heard continually. James Hogg. 
 
 The watch who kept his watch on the hill, and looked towards 
 Birnam, probably conceived himself dreaming when he first beheld 
 the fated grove put itself into motion for its march to Dunsinane. 
 Even so old Caxon, as, perched in his hut, he qualified his thoughts 
 upon the approaching marriage of his daughter, and the diginity of 
 being father-in-law to Lieutenant Taffril, with an occasional peep 
 towards the signal-post with which his own corresponded, was not 
 a little surprised by observing a light in that direction. He rubbed 
 his eyes, looked again, adjusting his observation by a cross-staff 
 which had been placed so as to bear upon the point. And behold, 
 the light increased, like a comet to the eye of the astronomer, 
 " with fear of change perplexing nations." ^ 
 
 " The Lord preserve us ! " said Caxon, "what's to be done now ? 
 — But there will be wiser heads than mine to look to that, sae I'se 
 e'en fire the beacon." 
 
 And he lighted the beacon accordingly, which threw up to the 
 sky a long wavering train of light, starthng the sea-fowl from their 
 nests, and reflected far beneath by the reddening billows of the sea. 
 The brother warders of Caxon being equally diligent, caught and 
 repeated his signal. The lights glanced on headlands and capes 
 and inland hills, and the whole district was alarmed by the signaJ 
 of invasion.* 
 
S66 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 Our Antiquary, his head wrapped warm in two double night-caps, 
 was quietly enjoying his repose, when it was suddenly broken by 
 the screams of his sister, his niece, and two maid-servants. 
 
 " What the devil is the matter ? " said he, starting up in his 
 bed — " womankind in my room at this hour of night !— 7are ye all 
 mad ? " 
 
 " The beacon, uncle ! " said Miss M'Intyre. 
 
 " The French coming to murder us ! " screamed Miss Griselda. 
 
 " The beacon ! the beacon ! — the French ! the French ! — murder ! 
 murder ! andwaur than murder ! " — cried the two handmaidens, like 
 the chorus of an opera. 
 
 " The French ? " said Oldbuck, starting up ; — " get out of the 
 room, womankind that you are, till I get my things on — And, hark 
 ye, bring me my sword." 
 
 " Whilk o' them, Monkbarns ? " cried his sister, offering a Roman 
 falchion of brass with the one hand, and with the other an Andrea 
 Ferrara without a handle. 
 
 " The langest, the langest," cried Jenny Rintherout, dragging in 
 a two-handed sword of the twelfth century. 
 
 " Womankind," said Oldbuck, in great agitation, " be composed, 
 and do not give way to vain terror — Are you sure they are come ?" 
 
 " Sure — sure ! " exclaimed Jenny — " ower sure ! — a' the sea 
 fencibles, and the land fencibles, and the volunteers and yeomanry 
 are on fit, and driving to Fairport as hard as horse and man can 
 gang — and auld Mucklebackit's gane wi' the lave — muckle gude 
 he'll do ! — Hech, sirs ! — h^ll be missed the morn wha wad hae 
 served king and country weel ! " 
 
 " Give me," said Oldbuck, " the sword which my father wore in 
 the year forty-five — it hath no belt or baldrick — but we'll make 
 shift." 
 
 So saying, he thrust the weapon through the cover of his 
 breeches pocket. At this moment Hector entered, who had been 
 to a neighbouring height to ascertain whether the alarm was 
 actual. 
 
 " Where are your arms, nephew ? " exclaimed Oldbuck — " where 
 is your double-barrelled gun, that was never out of your hand when 
 there was no occasion for such vanities ? " 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! sir," said Hector, "who ever took a fowling-piece 
 on action ? — I have got my uniform on, you see — I hope I shall be 
 of more use if they will give me a command, than I could be with 
 ten double-barrels. — ^And you, sir, must get to Fairport, to give di- 
 rections for the quartering and maintaining the men and horses, 
 and preventing confusion." 
 
 " You are right. Hector,— I believe I shall do as much with my 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 36^ 
 
 head as my hand too. — But here comes Sir Arthur, who, between 
 ourselves, is not fit to accomplish much either one way or other." 
 
 Sir Arthur was probably of a different opinion ; for, dressed in 
 his lieutenancy uniform, he was also on the road to Fairport, and 
 called in his way to take Mr. Oldbuck with him, having had his 
 original opinion of his sagacity much confirmed by late events. And 
 in spits of all the entreaties of the womankind that the Antiquary 
 would stay to garrison Monkbarns, Mr. Oldbuck, with his nephew, 
 instantly accepted Sir Arthur's offer. 
 
 Those who have witnessed such a scene can alone conceive the 
 state of bustle in Fairport. The windows were glancing with a 
 hundred lights, which, appearing and disappearing rapidly, indi- ■ 
 cated the confusion within doors. The women of 'lower rank 
 assembled and clamoured in the market-place. The yeomanry, 
 pouring from their different glens, galloped through the streets, 
 some individually, some in parties of five or six, as they had met 
 on the road. The drums and fifes of the volunteers beating to 
 arms, were blended with the voice of the officers, the sound of the 
 bugles, and the tolling of the bells from the steeple. The ships in 
 the harbour were lit up, and boats from the armed vessels added 
 to the bustle, by landing men and guns destined to assist. in the 
 defence of the place. This part of the preparations was superin- 
 tended by Taffril with much activity. Two or three light vessels 
 had akeady slipped their cables and stood out to sea, in order to 
 discover the supposed enemy. 
 
 Such was the scene of general confusion, when Sir Arthur 
 Wardour, Oldbuck, and Hector, made their way with difficulty into 
 the principal square, where the town-house is situated. It was 
 lighted up, and the magistracy, with many of the neighbouring 
 gentlemen, were assembled. And here, as upon other occasions of 
 the like kind in Scotland, it was remarkable how the good sense 
 and firmness of the people supplied almost all the deficiencies 
 of inexperience. 
 
 The magistrates were beset by the quarter-masters of the different 
 corps for billets for men and horses. " Let us," said Bailie Little- 
 john, " take the horses into our warehouses, and the men into our 
 parlours — share our supper with the one, and our forage with the 
 other. We have made ourselves wealthy under a free and paternal 
 government, and now is the time to show we know its value." 
 
 A loud and cheerful acquiescence was given by all present, and 
 the substance of the wealthy, with the persons of those of all ranks, 
 were unanimously devoted to the defence of the country. 
 
 Captain M'Intyre acted on this occasion as mihtary adviser and 
 aid-de-camp to the principal magistrate, and displayed a degree of. 
 
368 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 presence of mind, and knowledge of his profession, totally unex- 
 pected by his uncle, who, recollecting his usual insouciance and 
 impetuosity, gazed at him with astonishment from time to time, as 
 he remarked the calm and steady manner in which, he explained 
 the various measures of precaution that his experience suggested, 
 and gave directions for executing them. He found the different 
 corps in good order, considering the irregular materials of which 
 they were composed, in great force of numbers, and high confidence 
 and spirits. And so much did military experience at that moment 
 overbalance all other claims to consequence, that even old Edie, 
 instead of being left, like Diogenes at Sinope, to roll his tub when 
 all around were preparing for defence, had the duty assigned him 
 of superintending the serving out of the ammunition, which he 
 executed with much discretion. 
 
 Two things were still anxidusly expected — the presence of the 
 Glenallan volunteers, who, in consideration of the importance of 
 that family, had been formed into a separate corps, and the arrival 
 of the officer before announced, to whom the measures of defence 
 on that coast had been committed by the commander-in-chief, and 
 whose commission would entitle him to take upon himself the full 
 disposal of the military force. 
 
 At length the bugles of the Glenallan yeomanry were heard, and 
 the Earl himself, to the surprise of all who knew his habits and 
 state of health, appeared at their head in uniform. They formed a 
 very handsome and well-mounted squadron, formed entirely oift of 
 the Earl's Lowland tenants, and were followed by a regiment of 
 five hundred men, completely equipped in the Highland dress, 
 whom he had brought down from the upland glens, with their pipes 
 playing in the van. The clean and serviceable appearance of this 
 band of feudal dependents called forth the admiration of Captain 
 M'lntyre ; but his uncle was still more struck by the manner in 
 which, upon this crisis, the ancient military spirit of his house 
 seemed to animate and invigorate the decayed frame of the Earl, 
 their leader. He claimed, and obtained for himself and his fol- 
 lowers, the post most likely to be that of danger, displayed great 
 alacrity in making the necessary dispositions, and showed aqua! 
 acuteness in discussing their propriety. Morning broke in upon 
 the military councils of Fairport, while all concerned were still 
 eagerly engaged in taking precautions for their defence. 
 
 At length a cry among the people announced, " There's the brave 
 Major Neville come at last, with another officer; " and their post- 
 chaise and four drove into the square, amidst the huzzas of the 
 volunteers and inhabitants. The magistrates, with their assessors 
 of the lieutenancy, hastened to the door of their town-house to 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. ■ 369 
 
 receive him ; but what was the surprise of all present, but most 
 especially that of the Antiquary, when they became aware that the 
 handsome uniform and military cap disclosed the person and 
 features of the pacific Lovel ! A warm embrace, and a hearty 
 shake of the hand, were necessary to assure him that his eyes were 
 doing him justice. Sir Arthur was no less surprised to reqognise 
 his son,' Captain Wardour, in Level's, or rather Major Neville's 
 company. The first words of the young officers were a positive 
 assurance to all present, that the courage and zeal which they had 
 displayed were entirely thrown away, unless in so far as they 
 afforded an acceptable proof of their spirit and promptitude. 
 
 " The watchman at Halket-head," said Major Neville, " as we 
 discovered by an investigation which we made in our route hither, 
 was most naturally misled by a bonfire which some idle people had 
 made on the hill above Glenwithershins, just in the line of the 
 beacon with which his corresponded. 
 
 Oldbuck gave a conscious look to Sir Arthur, who returned it 
 with one equally sheepish, and a shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 " It must have been the machinery which we condemned to the 
 flames in our wrath," said the Antiquary, plucking up heart, though 
 not a little ashamed of having been the cause of so much disturb- 
 ance — " The devil take Dousterswivel with all my heart ! — I think 
 he has bequeathed us a legacy of blunders and mischief, as if he 
 had lighted some train of fireworks at his departure. — I wonder 
 what cracker will go off next amopg our shins. — But yonder comes 
 the prudent Caxon. — Hold up your head, you ass — your betters 
 must bear the blame for you — And here, take this what-d'ye-call-it" 
 — (giving him his sword)—"! wonder what I would have said 
 yesterday to any man that would have told me I -sVas to stick 
 such an appendage to my tail." 
 
 Here he found his arm gently pressed by Lord Glenallan, who 
 dragged him into a separate apartment. " For God's sake, who is 
 that young gentleman who is so strikingly like" 
 
 " Like the unfortunate Eveline," interrupted Oldbuck. "I felt 
 my heart warm to him from the first, and your lordship has sug- 
 gested the very cause." 
 
 " But who — who is he ? " continued Lord Glenallan, holding the 
 Antiquary with a convulsive grasp. 
 
 " Formerly I would have called him Lovel, but now he turns out 
 to be Major Neville." 
 
 "Whom my brother brought up as his natural son— whom he 
 made his heir — Gracious Heaven ! the child of my Eveline ! " 
 
 " Hold, my lord— hold ! " said Oldbuck, " do not give too hasty 
 way to such a presumption ;— what probability is there ? " 
 
 A A 
 
370 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 "Probability? none! There is certainty! absolute certainty ! 
 The agent I mentioned to you wrote me the whole story — I received 
 it yesterday, not sooner. — Bring him, for God's sake, that a father's 
 eyes may bless him before he departs." 
 
 " I will ; but for your own sake and his, givehim a few moments 
 for preparation." 
 
 And, determined to make still farther investigation before yield- 
 ing his entire conviction to so strange a tale, he sought out Major 
 Neville, and found him expediting the necessary measures for dis- 
 persing the force which had been assembled. 
 
 "Pray, Major Neville, leave this business for a moment to 
 Captain Wardour and to Hector, with whom, I hope, you are 
 thoroughly reconciled," (Neville laughed, and shook hands with 
 Hector across the table), " and grant me a moment's audience." 
 
 " You have a claim on me, Mr. Oldbuck, were my . business 
 more urgent," said Neville, " for having passed myself upon you 
 under a false name, and rewarding your hospitality by injuring 
 your nephew." 
 
 " You served him as he deserved," said Ol'dbuck ; " though, by 
 the way, he showed as much good sense as spirit to-day — Egad ! if 
 he would rub up his learning, and read Caesar and Polybius, and 
 the Stratagemata Pofyisni, I think he would rise in the army, and 
 I will certainly lend him a lift." 
 
 " He is heartily deserving of it," said Neville ; " and I am glad 
 you excuse me, which you may do the more frankly, when you know 
 that I am so unfortunate as to have no better right to the name of 
 Neville, by which I have been generally distinguished, than to that 
 of Lovel, under which you khew me." 
 
 " Indeed ! then, I trust, we shall find out one for you to which 
 you shall have a firm and legal title." 
 
 " Sir !— I trust you do not think the misfortune of my birth a fit 
 subject " 
 
 " By no means, young man," answered the Antiquary, interrupting 
 him ; — " I believe I know more of your birth than you do yourself 
 — and, to convince you of it, you were educated and known as a 
 natural son of Geraldin Neville of Neville's-burgh, in Yorkshire, 
 and, I presume, as his destined heir ? " 
 
 " Pardon me — no such views were held out to me. I was liberally 
 educated, and pushed forward in the army by money and interest • 
 but I believe my supposed father long entertained some ideas of 
 marriage, though he never carried them into effect." 
 
 " You say your supposed father ?— What leads you to suppose 
 Mr. Geraldin Neville was not your real father ? " 
 
 " I know, Mr. Oldbuck, that you would not ask these questions 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 371 
 
 on a point of such delicacy for the gratification of idle curiosity. I 
 will, therefore, tell you candidly, that last year, while we occupied a 
 small town in French Flanders, I found in a convent, near which I 
 was quartered, a woman who spoke remarkably good EngUsh — She 
 was a Spaniard — ^her name Teresa D'Acunha. In the process of 
 our acquaintance, she discovered who I was, and made herself 
 known to me as the person who had charge of my infancy. She 
 dropped more than one hint of rank to which I was entitled, and of. 
 injustice done to me, promising a more full disclosure in case of 
 the death of a lady in Scotland, during whose lifetime she was 
 determined to keep the secret. She also intimated that Mr. 
 Geraldin Neville was not my father. We were attacked by the 
 enemy, and driven froin the town, which was pillaged with savage 
 ferocity by the republicans. The religious orders were the parti- 
 cular objects of their hate and cruelty. The convent was burned, 
 ahd several nuns perished, among others Teresa — and with her all 
 chance of knowing the story of my birth — tragic by all accounts it 
 must have been." 
 
 " Raro antecedentem scelestum, or, as I may here say, scelestam^' 
 said Oldbuck, " deseruit -pcena — even Epicureans admitted that — 
 and what did you do upon this ? " 
 
 " I reirwnstrated with Mr. Neville by letter, and to no purpose — 
 I then obtained leave of absence, and threw myself at his feet, con- 
 juring him to complete the disclosure which Teresa had begun. He 
 refused, and, on my importunity, indignantly upbraided me with the 
 favours he had already conferred. I thought he abused the power 
 of a benefactor, as he was compelled to admit he had no title to that 
 of a father, and we parted in mutual displeasure. I renounced the 
 name of Neville, and assumed that under which you knew me — It 
 was at this time, when residing with a friend in the north of Eng- 
 land who favoured my disguise, that I became acquainted with Miss 
 Wardour, and was romantic enough to follow her to Scotland. My 
 mind wavered on various plans of life, when I resolved to apply 
 once more to Mr. Neville for an explanation of the mystery of my 
 birth. It was long ere I received an answer ; you were present 
 when it was put into my hands. He informed me of his bad state 
 of health, and conjured me, for my own sake, to inquire no farther 
 into the nature of his connexion with me, but to rest satisfied with 
 his declaring it to be such and so intimate, that he designed to 
 constitute me bis heir. When I was preparing to leave Fairport to 
 join him, a second express brought me word that he was no more. 
 The possession of great wealth was unable to suppress the remorse- 
 ful feelings with which I now regarded my conduct to my bene- 
 factor, and some hints in his letter appearing to intimate that there 
 
 A A 2 
 
372 THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 was on my birth a deeper stain than that of ordinary illegitimacy, 
 I remembered certain prejudices of Sir Arthur." 
 
 "And you brooded over these melancholy ideas until you were 
 ill, instead of coming to me for advice, and telling me the whole 
 story," said Oldbuck. 
 
 " Exactly ; then came my quarrel with Captain M'Intyre, and 
 my compelled departure from Fairport and its vicinity." 
 
 "From love and from poetry— Miss Wardour and the Cale- 
 doniad?" 
 
 " Most true.'' 
 
 " And since that time you have been occupied, I suppose, with 
 plans for Sir Arthur's relief?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; with the assistance of Captain Wardour at Edin- 
 burgh." 
 
 " And Edie Ochiltree here— you see I know the whole story. 
 But how came you by the treasure ? " 
 
 " It was a quantity of plate which had belonged to my uncle, 
 and was left in the custody of a person at Fairport. Some time 
 before his death he had sent orders that it should be melted 
 down. He perhaps did not wish me to see the Glenallan arms 
 upon it." 
 
 " Well, Major Neville — or, let me say — Lovel, being the name in 
 which I rather delight, you must, I believe, exchange both of your 
 aliases for the style and title of the Honourable William Geraldin, 
 commonly called Lord Geraldin." 
 
 The Antiquary then went through the strange and melancholy 
 circumstances concerning his mother's death. 
 
 " I have no doubt," he said, " that your uncle wished the report 
 to be believed, that the child of this unhappy marriage was no more 
 — perhaps he might himself have an eye to the inheritance of his 
 brother — he was then a gay wild young man — But of all intentions 
 against your person, however much the evil conscience of Elspeth 
 might lead her to suspect him from the agitation in which he 
 appeared, Teresa's story and your own fully acquit him. And now, 
 my dear sir, let me have the pleasure of introducing a son to a 
 father." 
 
 We will not attempt to describe such a meeting. The proofs on 
 all sides were found to be complete, for Mr. Neville had left a dis- 
 tinct account of the whole transaction with his confidential steward 
 in a sealed packet, which was not to be opened until the death of 
 the old Countess ; his motive for preserving secrecy so long appear- 
 ing to have been an apprehension of the effect which the discovery, 
 fraught with so much disgrace, must necessarily produce upon her 
 haughty and violent temper. 
 
THE ANTIQUARY. 373 
 
 In the evening of that day, the yeon\anry and volunteers of 
 Glenallan drank prosperity to their young master. In a month 
 afterwards Lord Geraldin was married to Miss Wardour, the Anti- 
 quary making the lady a present of the wedding ring, a massy circle 
 of antique chasing, bearing the motto of Aldobrand Oldenbuck, 
 Kunst macht gunst. 
 
 Old Edie, the most important man that ever wore a blue-gown, 
 bowls away easily from one friend's house to another, and boasts 
 that he never travels unless on a sunny day. Latterly, indeed, he has 
 given some symptoms of becoming stationary, being frequentlyfound 
 in the corner of a snug cottage between Monkbarns and Knock- 
 winnock, to which Caxon retreated upon his daughter's marriage, 
 in order to be in the neighbourhood of the three parochial wigs, 
 which he continues to keep in repair, though only for amusement. 
 Edie has been heard to say, " This is a gey bien place, and it's a 
 comfort to hae sic a corner to sit in in a bad day." It is thought, 
 as he grows stiffer in the joints, he will finally settle there. 
 
 The bounty of such wealthy patrons as Lord and Lady Geraldin 
 flowed copiously upon Mrs. Hadoway and upon the Mucklebackits. 
 By the former it was well employed, by the latter wasted. They 
 continue, however, to receive it, but under the administration of 
 Edie Ochiltree : and they do not accept it without grumbling at 
 the channel through which it is conveyed. 
 
 Hector is rising rapidly in the army, and has been more than 
 once mentioned in the Gazette, and rises proportionally high in 
 his unple's favour. And what scarcely pleases the young soldier less, 
 he has also shot two seals, and thus put an end to the Antiquary's 
 perpetual harping upon the story of \h&phoca. People talk of a 
 marriage between Miss M'Intyre and Captain Wardour ; but this 
 wants confiriilation. 
 
 The Antiquary is a frequent visitor at Knockwinnock and Glen- 
 allan-House, ostensibly for the sake of completing two essays, one 
 on the mail-shirt of the Great Earl, and the other on the left-hand 
 gauntlet of Hell-in-Harness. He regularly inquires whether Lord 
 Geraldin has commenced the Caledoniad, and shakes his head at 
 the answers he receives. En attendant, however, he has completed 
 his notes, which, we believe, will be at the service of any one who 
 chooses to make them public without risk or expense to The 
 Antiquary. 
 
NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 * p. 28. — Ars Topiaria, the art of 
 clipping yew hedges into fantastic 
 figures. A Latin poem, entitled Ars 
 Topiaria, contains a ciurious account 
 of the process. 
 
 * P. 33. — This bibliomaniacal anecdote 
 is literally true; and David Wilson, 
 the author need not tell his brethren 
 of the Roxburghe and Bannatyne 
 Club?, was a real personage. 
 
 * P. 35. — Of this thrice and four times 
 rare broadside, the author possesses 
 an exemplar. 
 
 * P. 38. — ^A bonnet-laird signifies a 
 petty proprietor, wearing the dress, 
 along with the habits of a yeoman. 
 
 * P. 48.^-The reader will understand 
 that this refers to the reign of our late 
 gracious Sovereign, George the Third. 
 
 *P. 84.— The legend' of Mrs. Grizel 
 Oldbuck was partly taken from an 
 extraordinary story which happened 
 about seventy years since, in the 
 South of Scotland, so peculiar in its 
 circumstances, that it merits being 
 
 mentioned in this place. Mr. R d 
 
 of Bowland, a gentleman of landed 
 property in the vale of Gala, was 
 prosecuted for a very considerable 
 sum, the accumulated arrears of teind 
 (or tithe) for which he was said to be 
 indebted to a noble family, the titu- 
 lars (lay impropriators of the tithes.) 
 
 Mr. R d was strongly impressed 
 
 with the belief that his father had, by 
 a form of process peculiar to the law 
 of Scotland, purchased these lands 
 from the titular, and therefore that 
 the present prosecution was ground- 
 less. But, after an industrious search 
 among his father's papers, an investi- 
 gation of the pubhc records, and a 
 careful inquiry among all persons who 
 had transacted law business for his 
 father, no evidence could be re- 
 covered to support his defence. The 
 period was now near at hand when he 
 conceived the loss of his lawsuit to be 
 inevitable, and he had formed his de- 
 termination to ride to Edinburgh next 
 day, . and make the best bargain he 
 could in the way of compromise. He 
 went to bed with this resolution, and, 
 
 with all the circumstances of the case 
 floating upon his mind, had a dream 
 to the foUovring purpose. His father, 
 who had been many years dead, ap- 
 peared to him, he thought, and asked 
 him why he was disturbed in his 
 mind. In dreams men are not sur- 
 
 prised^tsuchapparitions. Mr. R A 
 
 thought that he informed his father of 
 the cause of his distress, adding that 
 the payment of a considerable sum of 
 money was the more unpleasant to 
 him, because he had a strong con- 
 sciousness that it was not due, though 
 he was unable to recover any evidence 
 in support of his belief. "You are 
 right, my son," replied the paternal 
 shade ; " I did acquire right to these 
 teinds, for payment of which you are 
 now prosecuted. The papers relating 
 to the transaction are in the hands of 
 
 Mr. , a writer (or attorney), who 
 
 is now retired from professional busi- 
 ness, and resides at Inveresk, near 
 Edinburgh. He was a person whom 
 I employed on that occasion for a " 
 particular reason, but who never on 
 any other occasion transacted business 
 on my account. It is very possible," 
 
 pursued the vision, "that Mr.- ■ 
 
 may have forgotten a matter which is 
 now of a very old date ; but you may 
 call it to his recollection by this token, 
 that when I came to pay his account, 
 there was difficulty in getting change 
 for a Portugal piece of gold, and that 
 we were forced to drink out the 
 balance at a tavern." 
 
 Mr. R d awaked in the morn- 
 ing with all the words of the vision 
 imprinted on his mind, and thought it 
 worth while to ride across the country 
 to Inveresk, instead of going straight 
 to Edinburgh. When he came there, 
 he waited on the gentleman men- 
 tioned in the dream, a very old man ; 
 without saying anything of the vision, 
 he inquired whether he remembered 
 having conducted such a matter for 
 his deceased father. The old gentle- 
 men could not at first bring the cir- 
 cumstance to his retollection, but on 
 mention of the Portugal piece of 
 
NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 37S 
 
 gold, the whole returned upon his 
 memory; he made an immediate 
 search for the papers, and recovered 
 
 them, — so that Mr. R d carried 
 
 to Edinburgh the documents necessary 
 to gain the cause which he was on the 
 verge of losing. 
 
 The author has often heard this 
 story told by persons who had the best 
 access to know the facts, who were 
 not likely themselves to be deceived, 
 and were certainly incapable of de- 
 ception. He cannot therefore refuse 
 to give it credit, however extraordinary 
 the circumstances may appear. The 
 circumstantial character cif the infor- 
 mation given in the dream takes it out 
 of the general class of impressions of 
 the kind which are occasioned by the 
 fortuitous coincidence of actual events 
 with our sleeping thoughts. On the 
 other hand, few will suppose that the 
 laws of nature were suspended, and a 
 special communication from the dead 
 to the living permitted for the purpose 
 
 of saving Mr. R d a certain 
 
 number of hundred pounds. The 
 author's theory is, that the dream 
 was only the recapitulation of infor- 
 mation, which Mr. R d had 
 
 really received from his father while 
 in life, but which at first he merely 
 recalled as a general impression that 
 the claim was settled. It is not un- 
 common for persons to recover, during 
 sleep, the thread of ideas which they 
 have lost during their waldng hours. 
 
 It may be added, that this remark- 
 able circtimstance was attended with 
 
 bad consequences to Mr. R d ; 
 
 whose health and spirits were after- 
 wards impaired by the attention which 
 he thought himself obliged to pay to 
 the visions of the night. 
 
 * P. 86. — Probably Wordsworth's 
 Lyrical Ballads had not as yet been 
 published. 
 
 * P. 109.— Probably Dr. Hutton, the 
 celebrated geologist. 
 
 * P. 125.— A sort of tally generally 
 used by bakers of the olden time in 
 settling with their customers. Each 
 family had its own nick-stick, and for 
 each loaf as delivered, a notch was 
 made on the stick. Accounts in 
 Exchequer, kept by the same kind of 
 check, may have occasioned the Anti- 
 quary's partiality. In Prior's time 
 the English bakers had the same sort 
 of reckoning. 
 
 " Have you not seen a baker's maid 
 Between two equal panniers sway'd? 
 Her taUies useless lie and idle. 
 If placed exactly in the middle." 
 
 * P. 149.— The outline of this story is 
 taken from the German, though the 
 author is at present unable to say in 
 which of the various collections of the 
 popular legends in that language the 
 original is to be found. 
 
 * P. 150. — The shadow of the person 
 who sees the phantom, being reflected 
 upon a cloud of mist, like the image 
 of the magic lantern upon a white 
 sheet, is supposed to have formed the 
 apparition. 
 
 * P. 180. — ^The king's keys are, in law 
 phrase, the crow-bars and hammers 
 used to force doors and locks, in exe- 
 cution of the king's warrant. 
 
 * P. 184.— A great deal of stuff to the 
 same purpose with that placed iri the 
 mouth of the German adept, may be 
 found in Reginald Scot's Discovery of 
 Witchcraft, Third Edition, folio, 
 London, 1665. The Appendix is en- 
 titled, ' ' An Excellent Discourse of 
 the Nature and Substances of Devils 
 and Spirits, in two Books ; the First 
 by the aforesaid author (Reginald 
 Scot), the second now added in this 
 Third Edition as succedaneous to 
 the former, and conducing to the 
 completing of the whole work." This 
 Second Book, though stated as suc- 
 cedaneous to the first, is, in fact, 
 entirely at variance with it; for the 
 work of Reginald Scot is a compila- 
 tion of the absurd and snperstitio«s 
 ideas concerning witches so generally 
 entertained at the time, and the pre- 
 tended conclusion is a serious treatise 
 on the various means of conjuring 
 astral spirits. 
 
 * P. 191. — The author cannot remem- 
 ber where these lines are to be found ; 
 perhaps in Bishop Hall's Satires. 
 
 * P. 192. — It is, I believe, a piece of 
 free-masonry, or a point of conscience, 
 among the- Scottish lower orders, 
 never to admit that a patient is doing 
 better. The closest approach to re- 
 covery which they can be brought to 
 allow, is, that the party inquired after' 
 is " Nae waur." 
 
 * P. 227. — In the fishing villages on 
 the Friths of Forth and Tay, as well as 
 elsewhere in Scotland, the government 
 is gynecocracy, as described in the 
 text. In the course of the late war. 
 
375 
 
 NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 and during the alarm of invasion, a 
 fleet of transports entered the Frith of 
 Forth, under the convoy of some ships 
 of war which would reply to no sig- 
 nals. A general alarm was excited, 
 in consequence of which, all the 
 fishers, who were enrolled as sea-fen- 
 cibles, got on board the gun-boats, 
 which they were to man as occasion 
 should require, and sailed to oppose 
 the supposed enemy. The foreigners 
 proved to be Russians, with whom we 
 were then at peace. The county gen- 
 tlemen of Mid-Lothian, pleased with 
 the zeal displayed by the sea-fencibles 
 at a critical moment, passed a vote 
 for presenting the community of fish- 
 ers with a ^Iver punch-bowl, to be 
 used on occasions of festivity. But 
 the fisher-women, on hearing what 
 was intended, put in their claim to 
 have some separate share in the in- 
 tended honorary reward. The men, 
 they said, were their husbands ; it 
 was they who would have been suf- 
 ferers if their husbands had been 
 killed, and it was by their permission 
 and injunctions that they embarked on 
 board the gun-boats for the public ser- 
 vice. They therefore clafmed to share 
 the reward in some manner which 
 should distinguish the female patriot- 
 ism which they had shown on the 
 occasion. The gentlemen of the 
 county willingly admitted the claim ; 
 and, without diminishing the value of 
 their compliment to the men, they 
 made the females a present of a valu- 
 able brooch, to fasten the plaid of the 
 queen of the fisher-women for the 
 time. 
 
 It may be farther remarked, that 
 these Nereids are punctilious among 
 themselves, and observe different 
 ranks according to the commodities 
 they deal in. One experienced dame 
 was heard to characterise a younger 
 damsel as "a puir silly thing, who 
 had no ambition, and would never," 
 she prophesied, ' ' rise above the mus- 
 sel-line of business." 
 
 * P. 238. — ^A single soldier means, in 
 Scotch, a private soldier. 
 
 * P. 275. — Massa-mora, an ancient 
 name for a dungeon, derived froin the 
 Moorish language, perhaps as far back 
 as the time of the Crusades. 
 
 * P, 323. — The doctrine of Monkbams 
 on the origin of imprisonment for civil 
 debt in Scotland, may appear some- 
 
 what whimsical, but was referred to, 
 and admitted to be correct, by the 
 Bench of the Supreme Scottish Court, 
 on 5th December, 1828, in the case of 
 Thom V. Black. In fact, the Scottish 
 law is in this particular more jealous 
 of the personal hberty of the subject 
 than any other code in Europe. 
 
 * P. 328. — See Mrs. Grant on the 
 Highland Superstitions, vol. ii. p. 260, 
 for this fine translation from tt.1 
 Gaehc. 
 
 * P. 329. — The great battle of Harlaw, 
 here and formerly referred to, might 
 be said to determine whether the 
 Gaelic or the Saxon race should be 
 predominant in Scotland. Donald, 
 Lord of the Isles, who had at that 
 period the power of an' independent 
 sovereign, laid claim to the Earldom 
 of Ross during the Regency of Robert, 
 Duke of Albany. To enforce his sup- 
 posed right, he ravaged the north 
 with a large army of Highlanders and 
 'Islesmen. He was encountered at 
 Harlaw, in the Garioch, by Alexander, 
 Earl of Mar, at the head of the 
 northern nobihty and gentry of Saxon 
 and Norman descent. The battlp 
 was bloody and indecisive ; but the 
 invader was obliged to retire, in con- 
 sequence of the loss he sustained, and 
 afterwards was compelled to make 
 submission to the Regent, and re- 
 nounce his pretensions to Ross ; so 
 that all the advantages of the field 
 were gained by the Saxons. The bat- 
 tle of Harlaw was fought 24th July, 
 1411. 
 
 * P. 332. — The concluding circum- 
 stance of Elspeth's death is taken 
 from an incident said to have hap- 
 pened at the funeral of John, Duke of 
 Roxburghe. All w^o were acquainted 
 with that accomplished nobleman 
 must remember, that he was not more 
 remarkable for creating and possess- 
 ing a most curious and splendid 
 library, than for his acquaintance with 
 the literary treasures it contained. In 
 arranging his books, fetching and re- 
 placing the volumes which he wanted, 
 and carrying on all the necessary iri- 
 tercourse which a man of letters holds 
 with his library, it was the Duke's 
 custom to employ, not a secretary or 
 librarian, but a livery servant, called 
 Archie, whom habit had made so per- 
 fectly acquainted with the library,- 
 that he knew every book, as a shep- 
 
NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 37? 
 
 herd does the individuals of his flock 
 by what is called headmark, and 
 could bring his master whatever 
 volume he wanted, and afford all the 
 mechanical aid the Duke required in 
 his literary researches. To secure the 
 attendance of Archie, there was a bell 
 hung in his room, which was used on 
 no occasion except to call him indi- 
 vidually to the Duke's study. 
 
 His Graqe died in Saint James's 
 Square, London, in the year 1804 ; the 
 body was to be conveyed to Scotland, 
 to lie in state at his mansion of Fleurs, 
 and to be removed from thence to the 
 family burial-place at Bowden, 
 
 At this time, Archie, who had been 
 long attacked by a liver complaint, 
 was in the very last stage of that 
 disease. Yet he prepared himself to 
 accompany the body of the master 
 whom he had so long and so faithfully 
 waited upon. The medical persons 
 assured him he could not survive the 
 journey. It signified nothing, he said, 
 whether he died in England or Scot- 
 land ; he was resolved to assist in ren- 
 dering the last honours to the kind 
 master from whom he had been in- 
 separable for so many years, even if he 
 should expire in the attempt. The 
 poor invalid was permitted to attend 
 the Duke's body to Scotland ; but 
 when they reached Fleurs hewas totally 
 exhausted, and obliged to keep his 
 bed, in a sort of stupor which an- 
 nounced speedy dissolution. On the 
 morning of the day fixed for removing 
 the dead body of the" Duke to the 
 place of burial, the private bell by 
 which he was wont to summon 
 his attendant to his study, was rung 
 violently. This might easily happen 
 in the confusion of such a scene, 
 although the people of the neighbour- 
 hood prefer believing that the bell 
 sounded of its own aceord. Ring, 
 however, it did ; and Archie, roused 
 by the well-known summons, rose up 
 in his bed, and faltered, in broken 
 accents, *'Yes, my Lord Duke — yes — 
 I will wait on your Grace instantly ; " 
 and with these words on his lips, he 
 is said to have fallen back and ex- 
 pired. 
 
 * P. 366. — The stoiy of the false alarm 
 at Fairport, and the consequences, are 
 taken from a real incident. Those 
 who witnessed the state of Britain, and 
 of Scotland in particular, from the 
 
 period that succeeded the war which 
 commenced in 1803 to the battle of 
 Trafalgar, must recollect those times 
 with feelings which we can hardly 
 hope to malte the rising generation 
 comprehend. Almost every indivi- 
 dual was enrolled either in a military 
 or civil capacity, for the purpose of 
 contributing to resist the long-sus- 
 pended threats of invasion, which were 
 echoed from every quarter. Bea- 
 cons were erected along the coast, 
 and all through the country, to give 
 the signal for every one to repair to 
 the post where his pecuUar duty called 
 him, and men of every description fit 
 to serve held themselves in readiness 
 on the shortest summons. During 
 this agitating period, and on the even- 
 ing of the 2d February 1804, the per- 
 son who kept watch on the command- 
 ing station of Home Castle, being 
 deceived by some accidental fire in the 
 county of Northumberland, which he 
 took for the corresponding signal- 
 light in that county with which his 
 orders were to communicate, Ughted 
 up his own beacon. The signal was 
 immediately repeated through all the 
 valleys on 'the English Border. If 
 the beacon at Saint Abb's head had 
 been fired, the alarm would have run 
 northward, and roused all Scotland. 
 But the watch at this important point 
 judiciously considered, that if therehad 
 been an actual or threatened descent 
 on our eastern sea-coast, the alarm 
 would have come along the coast, and 
 not from the interior of the country. 
 
 Through the Border counties the 
 alarm spread with rapidity, and on no 
 occasion when that country was the 
 scene of perpetual and unceasing war, 
 was the summons to arms more 
 readily obeyed. In Berwickshire, 
 Roxburghshire, and Selkirkshire, the 
 volunteers and militia got under arms 
 with a degree of rapidity and alacrity 
 which, considering the distance indi- 
 viduals lived from each other, had 
 something in it very surprising — they 
 poured to the alarm-posts on the sea- 
 coast in a state so well armed and so 
 completely appointed, with baggage, 
 provisions, &c., as was accounted by 
 the best military judges to render them 
 fit for instant and effectual service. 
 
 There were some particulars in the 
 general alarm which are curious and 
 interesting. The men of Liddesdale, 
 
378' 
 
 NOTES TO THE ANTIQUARY. 
 
 the most remote point to the west- 
 ward to which the alarm reached, 
 were so much afraid of being late in 
 the field, that they put in requisition 
 all the horses they could find, and 
 when they had thus made a forced 
 march out of their own country, they 
 turned their borrowed steeds loose to 
 find their way back through the hills, 
 and they all got safe back to their 
 own stables. Another remarkable cir- 
 cumstance was, the general cry of the 
 inhabitants of the smaller towns for 
 arms, that they might go along with 
 their companions. The Selkirkshire 
 Yeomanry made a remarkable march, 
 for alt(iough some of the individuals 
 lived at twenty and thirty miles from the 
 place where they mustered, they were 
 nevertheless embodied and in order in 
 so short a period, that they were at 
 Dalkeith, which was their alarm-post, 
 about one o'clock of the day succeed- 
 ing the first signal, with men and 
 horses in good order, though the 
 roads were in a bad state, and many 
 of the troopers must have ridden forty 
 or fifty miles without drawing bridle. 
 Two members of the corps chanced 
 to be absent from their homes, and in 
 Edinburgh on private business. The 
 lately married wife of one of these 
 gentlemen, and the widowed mother 
 of the other, sent the arms, uniforms, 
 and chargers of the two troopers, that 
 they might join their companions at 
 Dalkeith. The author was very much 
 struck by the answer made to him by 
 the last-mentioned lady, when he paid 
 her some compHment on the readi- 
 ness which she showed in equipping 
 her son with the means of meeting 
 danger, when she might have left him 
 a fair excuse for remaining absent. 
 " Sir," she replied, with the spirit of a 
 Roman matron, "none can know 
 better than you that my son is the 
 only prop by which, since his father's 
 death, our family is supported. But 
 I would rather see him dead on that 
 hearth, than hear that he had been a 
 horse's length behind his companions 
 in the defence of his king and coun- 
 try." The author mentions what was 
 immediately under his own eye, and 
 within his own knowledge ; but the 
 spirit was universal, wherever the 
 
 alarm reached, both in Scotland and 
 England. 
 
 The account of the ready patriotism 
 displayed by the country on this oc- 
 casion, warmed the hearts of Scottish 
 men in every quarter of the world. 
 It reached the ears of the well-known 
 Doctor Leyden, whose enthusiastic 
 love of Scotland, and of his own dis- 
 trict of Teviotdale, formed a distin- 
 guished part of his character. The 
 account, which was read to him on a 
 sick-bed, stated {very truly) that the 
 different corps, on arriving at their 
 alarm-posts, announced themselves by 
 their music playing the tunes peculiar 
 to their ovm districts, many of which 
 have been gathering-signals for cen- 
 turies. It was particularly remem- 
 bered, that the Liddesdale men before 
 mentioned, entered Kelso playing the 
 Hvely tune — 
 
 " O wha dare meddle wi' me. 
 
 And wha dare meddle wi' me ! 
 My name it is little Jock Elliot, 
 And wha dare meddle wi' me ! " 
 
 The patient was so delighted with 
 this display of ancient Border spirit, 
 that he sprung up in his bed, and 
 begun to sing the old song with such 
 vehemence of action and voice, that 
 his attendants, ignorant of the cause 
 of excitation, concluded that the fever 
 had taken possession of his brain ; 
 and it was only the entry of another 
 Borderer, Sir John Malcolm, and the 
 explanation which he was well quali- 
 fied to give, that prevented them 
 from resorting to means of medical 
 coercion. 
 
 The circumstances ot this false 
 alarm, and its consequences, may be 
 held of too little importance even for 
 a note on a work of fiction ; but at the 
 period when it happened, it was 
 hailed by the country as a propitious 
 omen, that' the national force, to 
 which much must naturally have been 
 trusted, had the spirit to look in the 
 face the danger tlsey had takto arms 
 to repel; and every one was con- 
 vinced, that on whichever side God 
 might bestow the victory, the invaders 
 would meet with the most deter- 
 mined opposition from the children 
 of the soil. 
 
THE LIFE AND WORK 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, Bart. (Aug. 15, 1771— Sept. 21, 1832), bom 
 at Edinburgh, was a younger son of Walter Scott, W.S., by Anne," 
 daughter of Dr. John Rutherford, Professor of the Practice of Medi- 
 cine in the University of Edinburgh. 
 
 " My father's grandfather was Walter Scott, well known in Teviotdale by the 
 surname of Beardie. He was the second son of Walter Scott, first laird of 
 Raebum, who was the third son of Sir William Scott, and the grandson of 
 Walter Scott, commonly called in tradition Auld Watt, of Harden. I am, 
 therefore, Uneally descended from that ancient chieftain whose name I have 
 made to ring in many a ditty, and from his fair dame, the Flower of Yarrow — 
 no bad genealogy for a border minstrel .... I was an uncommonly healthy 
 child, but had nearly died in consequence of my first nurse being ill of a consump- 
 tion — a circumstance which she chose to conceal, though to do so was murder 
 to both herself and me. Dr. Black, the celebrated professor of chemistry, was 
 privately consulted, who put my father on his guard. The woman was dis- 
 missed, and I was consigned to a healthy peasant, who is still [1808] alive to 
 boast of her laddie being what she calls -a grand gentleman. I showed every 
 sign of health and strength until I was eighteen months old. One night, I have 
 often been told, I showed great reluctance to be caught and put to bed, and, 
 after being chased about the room, was apprehended and consigned to my dor- 
 mitory with some difficulty. It was the last time I was to show such personal 
 agility. In the morning I was discovered to be affected with the fever which 
 often accompanies the cutting of large teeth. It held me three days. On the 
 fourth, when they went to bathe me as usual, they discovered that I had lost the 
 power of my right leg." 
 
 For the benefit of country air, the child was sent to his paternal 
 grandfather's farm-house of Sandy- Knowe, situated at base of the 
 crags overhung by the ruined tower of Smailholm, and not far from 
 Kelso. In his fourth year he was taken by his aunt. Miss Janet 
 Scott, to Bath ; his general health was thus greatly improved, but 
 his lameness continued through life. The affectionate solicitude of 
 his aunt was not confined to the physical welfare of her litl/e ward. 
 
 " Two or three old books which lay on the window-seat [at Sandy-Knowe] 
 were explored for my amusement in the tedious wintry days. Automathes and 
 Ramsay's Tea-table Miscellanies were my 'favourites, although, at a later period, 
 an odd volume of Josephus's Wars of the Jews divided my partiality. My 
 kind and affectionate aunt, whose memory will be ever dear to me, used to read 
 
38o THE LIFE AND WORK OF 
 
 those works to me with admirable patience, until I could repeat long passages by 
 heart. The ballad of Hardyknute I was early master of— to the great annoy- 
 ance of almost our only visitor, the worthy minister of the parish, Dr. Duncan, 
 who had not patience to have a sober chat interrupted by my shouting forth 
 this ditty. Methinks I now see his tall, thin, emaciated figure, his legs cased 
 in clasped gambadoes, and his face of a length that would have rivalled the 
 Knight of La Mancha, and hear him exclaiming, ' One may as well speak in 
 the mouth of a cannon as where that child is ! ' " 
 
 But the youthful rhapsodist was somethnes favoured with more 
 patient auditors ; and to one of these we are indebted for a graphic 
 account of an interview with little Walter. 
 
 " I last night supped in Mr. Scott's. Walter has the most extraordinary 
 genius of a boy I ever saw. He was reading a poem to his mother when I went 
 in. I made him read on : it was the description of a shipwreck. His passion 
 rose with the storm. He lifted his eyes and hands : ' There is the mast gone,' 
 says he. ' Crash''it goes ! They will all perish ! ' After his agitation, he turns 
 to me : ' That is too melancholy,' says he : ' I had better read you something 
 more amusing.' I preferred a little chat, and asked his opinion of Milton and 
 other books he was reading, which he gave me wonderfully. One of his obser- 
 vations was, ' How strange it was that Adam, just new come into the world, 
 should know everything ! That must be the poet's fancy,' says he. But when 
 told he was created perfect by God, he instantly yielded. When taken to bed 
 last night, he told his aunt he liked that lady, ' What lady? ' says she, ' Why, 
 Mrs. Cockbum ; for I think she is a virtuoso, like myself.' ' Dear Walter,' says 
 Aunt Jenny, ' what is a virtuoso ? ' ' Don't ye know ? Why, it's one who 
 wishes and will know everything ! ' Now, sir, you vrill think this a very silly 
 story. Pray what age do you suppose this boy to be ? Name it, now, before 
 I teUyou. 'Why, twelve or fourteen.' No such thing ; he is not quite six 
 years old. He has a lame leg, for which he was a year at Bath ; and has 
 acquired the perfect English accent, which he has not lost since he came home, 
 and he reads like a Garrick. You will allow this to be an uncommon exotic." 
 Mrs. Cockbum to the Rev. Dr. Douglas. 
 
 At eight years of age he was placed in the High School of Edin- 
 burgh, where 
 
 "As for myself," he remarks (with his characteristic honesty),- " I glowed hke 
 a meteor from one end of the class to the other, and commonly disgusted my 
 kind master as much by neghgence and frivohty as I occasionally pleased 
 him by flashes of intellectual talent. Among my companions my good nature 
 and a flow of ready imagination made me. very popular. Boys are uncommonly 
 just in their feelings, and at least equally generous. My lameness, and the 
 efforts which I made to supply that disadvantage by making up in address what 
 I wanted in activity, engaged the latter principle in my favour ; and in the 
 winter play-hours, when hard exercise was impossible, my tales used to 
 assemble an admiring audience round Luckie Brown's fireside, and happy was 
 he that could sit next the inexhaustible narrator ... I left the High School, 
 therefore, with a great quantity of general information ; ill arranged, indeed, 
 and collected without system, yet deeply impressed upon my mind ; readily 
 resorted to bymy powers of connection and memory, and gilded, if I may be per- 
 mitted to say so, by a vivid and active imagination." 
 
 The autobiographer continues with an account of the nature of 
 his studies at the University of Edinburgh, the Latin, Greek, and 
 logic classes of which he attended in the years 1783 and 1784. Four 
 years later he was a delighted auditor of the Lectures on Ethics of 
 Dugald Stewart ; and during this or his previous terms at college 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 381 
 
 he acquired a superficial acquaintance with some branches of the 
 
 mathematics and several heads in civil municipal law, and a more 
 
 familiar knowledge of the prominent points of history. His reflec 
 
 tions on this portion of his life, made in his thirty-seventh year, 
 
 carry a lesson which will be endorsed by many thoughtful seniors. 
 
 "If it should ever fall to the lot of youth to peruse these pages, let such 
 a reader remember that it is with the deepest regret that I recollect in my man- 
 hood the opportunities of learning wliich I neglected in my youth, that through 
 every part of my literary career I have felt pinched and hampered by my own 
 ignorance, and that I would, at this moment, give half the reputation I have 
 had the good fortune to acquire, if by doing so I could rest the remaining part 
 upon a sound foundation of learning and science." 
 
 To his collegiate acquisitions he added in later life what may be 
 called a " free-translation " knowledge of German, Spanish, and 
 French, and a vast fund — not always accurate, but ever ready — of 
 British archeology ; a department of learning which no one 
 better knew how to use, and which few have ever made so attractive 
 to the general reader. 
 
 His stock of romantic lore, was greatly increased towards the 
 close of the year 1784 by a diligent use of a sick-room, the tedium 
 of which was enlivened by the contents of a circulating library 
 largely composed of the records of deeds of chivalry — " the pon- 
 derous folios of Cyrus and Cassandra, down to the most' approved 
 works of modern times." In May, 1786, the young dreamer was 
 recalled to the realities of an every-day working world by entering 
 into indentures of apprenticeship with his father; in 1792 he was 
 called to the Bar ; in 1799 became Sheriff of Selkirkshire, with a 
 salary of 300/. ; and in Match, 1806, was appointed one of the 
 principal Clerks of the Court of Session, the full endowments of 
 which post (about 1200/. a year) he did not receive until the 
 death of Mr. George Home, in 181 2. He was made a baronet in 
 1820, and was elected President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. 
 
 In 1796 the advocate published his translations of Biirger's Leo- 
 nore and Der Wilde Jager ; and in 1797 he was married to Miss 
 Charlotte Margaret Carpenter, daughter of a royalist of Lyons, who 
 died at the commencement of the French Revolution, and left his 
 daughter a ward of the Marquis of Downshire. In 1799 Scott pro- 
 duced a translation of Goethe's Goetz of Berlichingen ; in 1802-3 
 appeared his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border ; in 1805 the Lay 
 of the Last Minstrel ; Marmion in 1808 ; the Lady of' the 
 LAKE1810; Vision of Don Roderick in i 811 ; Rokeby and 
 the Bridal of Triermain in 1813 ; the Lord of the Isles in 
 1814 ; and HAROLD THE DAUNTLESS in 1817. 
 
 In 1814 there was published anonymously at Edinburgh, in three 
 volumes, a Historical Roim ance, which, from several causes,— its 
 
383 THE LIFE AND WORK OF 
 
 own extraordinary merits, its position as the herald of a new 
 school of fiction, and especially as the first of a long line of illus- 
 trious successors, — will always command the respect of the biblio- 
 grapher as effpctually as it will entrance the interest of the mere 
 novel reader to the latest generation. 
 
 While the world was still wondering over the authorship, and 
 perusing again and again the pages of Waverley, new food for 
 speculation and delight was afforded in 1 815 by the publication of 
 Guy Mannering ; in the next year the wonder grew by the addi- 
 tion of the Antiquary, and Tales of my Landlord, first series 
 —the Black Dwarf and Old Mortality; in 1818 came out 
 Rob Roy, and Tales of my Landlord, second series — The 
 Heart of Midlothian ; in 1819, Tales of my Landlord, third 
 series — Bride of Lammermoor, the Legend of Montrose, and 
 Ivanhoe ; in 1820, The Visionary, The Monastery, and The 
 Abbot ; in 1821, Kenilworth ; in 1822, The Pirate, and The 
 Fortunes of Nigel ; in 1823, Peveril of the Peak, and 
 Quentin Durward ; in 1824, St. Ronan's Well, and Red 
 Gauntlet ; in 1825, Tales of the Crusaders, The Be- 
 TROTHALj and The Talisman; in 1827, The Life of Napoleon 
 Buonaparte, 9 vols. ; Chronicles of the Canongate, first 
 series— The Two Drovers, The Highland Widow, The 
 Surgeon's Daughter ; Tales of a Grandfather, first series ; 
 in 1828, Chronicles of the Canongate, second series — The 
 Fair Maid of Perth, Tales of a Grandfather, second 
 series ; in 1829, Anne OF Geirstein, Tales OF A Grand- 
 father, third series — New Introductions and Notes to col- 
 lective edition of the Waverley Novels ; in 1830, Tales of a 
 Grandfather, fourth series ; in 183 1, Tales of my Landlord, 
 fourth series^CpuNT Robert of Paris, Castle Dangerous. 
 
 From the first publication of Waverley many eyes had been 
 turned towards Walter S&ott, and each succeeding novel strength- 
 ened the belief that to no other pen than his could be due the 
 opening up to the republic of letters a domain so wide in extent, 
 so charming in scenery, so diversified in population. The author- 
 ship was denied by him, and Robert Chambers, in his " Biographical 
 Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen," has surmised that Sir Walter 
 Scott "kept the Waverley secret with such pertinacious close- 
 ness," because " unwilling to be considered as an author writing 
 for fortune, which he must have thought something degrading to 
 the baronet of Abbotsford." 
 
 The ambition to be the founder of a family, the chief of a great 
 landed estate, proved, in the end, the ruin of Scott. Previously to 
 181 1 he had been in the habit of spending his summers at Ashiestiel, 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 3S3 
 
 his home on the banks of the Tweed, near midway between Inner- 
 Leithen and Selkirk, and " a more beautiful situation," says Lock- 
 hart, " for the residence of a poet could not be conceived." Hence- 
 forth he devoted his literary gains — and they were of course enor- 
 mous — to the transformation of the newly purchased farm-house 
 two miles west of Melrose, where the Gala water flows into the 
 Tweed. The purchase was paid by instalments, and with the last 
 remittance was sent the couplet, " Noo the land's mine — the gowd's 
 thine." There was much curiosity to behold the marvels' which a 
 lavish outlay of capital, guided by architectural ' taste and agricul- 
 tural skill, had made at Abbotsford — the Gothic castle-like abode 
 of the novelist. There was much more to see and hear the lord of 
 the manor, whose fame had now gone forth to all parts of the 
 ■world where the language and letters of Britain were known and 
 esteemed. 
 
 " It would hardly, I believe, be too much to affirm," wrote Mr. Lockhart, 
 " that Sir Walter Scott entertained under his roof, in the course of the seven or 
 eight seasons when his prosperity was at its height, as many persons of distinc- 
 tion in rank, in politics, in art, in hterature, and in science, as the most princely 
 nobleman of his age ever did in the like space of time. I fancy it is not beyond 
 the mark to add, that of the eminent foreigners who visited our island within 
 this period a moiety crossed the Channel mainly in consequence of the intere_st 
 with which his writings had invested Scotland — and that the hope of beholding 
 the man under his own roof was the crowning motive with half that moiety." 
 
 But the " brilliant seasons,'' as Mr. Lockhart well calls them, at 
 Abbotsford, were to be followed by the dark days of adversity. 
 
 In the winter of 1825-6 a commercial crisis prostrated many 
 houses, and among these werfe Constable & Co. and Ballantyne & 
 Co., publishers and printers. To the astonishment of everybody 
 not in the secrets of these concerns, it was ascertained that Scott 
 was a partner of the last, and also in this capacity a large debtor 
 to the creditors of the first, of these firms. This mercantile con- 
 nection had been, as his diary gives melancholy evidence, a source 
 of painful anxiety to Scott. His partnership with James Ballantyne 
 in the printing business commenced in May, 1805. No biographer 
 can do justice to this portion of Scott's history. Fortunately, he has 
 drawn the sad annals in indelible lines in his only confidant — the 
 Diary of 1826. 
 
 Jan. 5. — " Got the desired accommodation, which will put J. B. right ; but 
 am a little anxious still about Constable : the accounts from London are most 
 disastrous." 
 
 fan. 14. — " An odd, mysterious letter from Constable, who has gone post to 
 London .... Luckily, the funny people are gone, and I shall not have the 
 task of grinning when I feel serious enough .... I will not make myself un- 
 easy. I can help doing so, surely, if I will ... I see no reason why one should 
 not, with God's assistance, shun anxious thoughts, which foretell evil and 
 cannot remedy it." 
 
384 THE LIFE AND WORK OF 
 
 Constable applied to the Bank of England for a loan on security 
 of hi? copyrights, was refused ; and the catastrophe could be no 
 longer averted. 
 
 Jan. 16. — " Came through cold roads to as coldi news. Hurst and Robinson 
 have suffered a bill to come back upon Constable, which I suppose infers the 
 ruin of both houses." 
 
 Jan. 17. — " Saw Ballantyne this morning, good, honest fellow, with a face 
 as black as the crook. He hopes no salvation ; has, indeed, taken measures to 
 stop. It is hard, after having fought such a battle . . . My old acquaintance. 
 Miss E. Clerk, sister of Willie, died suddenly. I cannot choose but wish it 
 had -been Sir W. S., and yet the feehng is unmanly. I have Anne, my wife, 
 and Charles to look after. I felt rather sneaking, as I came home from the Par- 
 liament House, — felt as if I were hable monstrari digito in no very pleasant 
 way. But this must be borne cum ccBteris ; and, thank God, however uncom- 
 fortable, I do not feel despondent .... My wife and daughter are gloomy, 
 but yet patient." 
 
 Jan. 18. — "He that sleeps too long in the morning, let him borrow the 
 pillow of a debtor. So says the Spaniard, and so say I. I had, of course, an 
 indifferent night of it. I wish these two days were over ; but the worst is 
 over." 
 
 ' ' When Skene called on his friend Scott on the morning of the 17th Jan. , 
 he rose, and said, ' My friend, give me a shake of your hand — mine is that of a 
 beggar .... He explained circumstances, and added, 'Don't fancy I am 
 going to stay at home to brood idly on what can't be helped. I was at work on 
 Woodstock when you came in, and I shall take up the pen the moment I get 
 back from court. I mean to dine with you on Sunday, and hope then to report 
 progress to some purpose.* When Sunday came, he reported, accordingly,hhat 
 in spite of all the remarkable interruptions of meetings and conferences with his 
 partner, the Constables, and men of business — to say nothing of his distressing 
 anxieties on account of his wife and daughter — ^he had written a chapter of his 
 novel every intervening day. " 
 
 " Distressing anxieties about his wife and daughter," — alas it was 
 here that the " iron entered into his soul." It was this that bowed 
 the strong man, — resolute, and ever cheerful, under his own share 
 of this great sorrow. 
 
 Jan. 19. — " A painful scene after dinner, and another after supper, endeavour- 
 ing to convince those poor dear creatures that they must not lookfor miracles, but 
 consider the misfortune as certain, and only to be lessened by patience and 
 labour." 
 
 Jan. 21. — "Susannah, in Tristram Shandy, thinks death i^ best met in 
 bed. I am sure trouble and vexation are not. The watches of the night pass 
 wearily when disturbed by fruitless regrets and disagreeable anticipation .... 
 Mr. Gibson with a most melancholy tale. Things are much worse with Con- 
 stable than I apprehended. Naked we entered the world, and naked We leave 
 it, — ^blessed be the name of the Lord." 
 
 Jan. 22. — "I feel neither dishonoured nor broken down by the bad now 
 
 really bad — news I have received. I have walked my last on the domains I - 
 have planted — sat the last time in the halls I have built. But death would 
 have taken them from me, if misfortune had spared them. My poor people, 
 whom I loved so well . . . But I find my eyes moistening ; and that will not 
 do. I will not yield without a fight for it ... . Poor Mr. Pole, the harper 
 sent to offer me 500/. or 600/., probably all heTiad. There is much good in the 
 world after all." 
 
 And this, although an anonymous correspondent tendered him 
 30,000/. down ! Dalgleish, Sir Walter's butler, also gave a touching 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 38S 
 
 proof of his attachment to his master ; he said he " cared not how 
 much his wages were reduced, but go he would not." 
 Feb. 7. — Sir James Mackintosh wrote to Scott : — 
 
 " No man living has given pleasure to so many persons as you have done ; 
 and you must be assured that great multitudes, who never saw you, in every 
 quarter of the world will regret the slightest disturbance of your convenience." 
 
 When the late amiable and accomplished Earl of Dudley met 
 Mr. Morrit, at Brighton, he exclaimed— 
 
 " Scott ruined ! the author of Waverley ruined ! Good God ! Let every one 
 to whom he has given months of delight give him a sixpence, and he will rise 
 to-morrow morning richer than Rothschild." 
 
 Jan. Z2.^" I am glad that beyond my own family, who are, excepting Lady 
 S., young and able to bear sorrow, of which this is the first taste to some of 
 them, most of the hearts are past aching, which would have once been incon- 
 solable on this occasion. I do not me^n that many will not seriously regret, 
 and some perhaps lament ray misfortunes. But my dear mother, my almost 
 sister, Christy Rutherford, poor Will Erskine — these would have been 
 mourners indeed ! Well — exertion — exertion ! O invention, rouse thyself ! 
 May man be kind ! May God be propitious ! " 
 
 yaa. 23. — " Slept ill, not having been abroad these eight days — 
 splendida Ulis. Then a dead sleep in the morning, and, when the awakening 
 comes, a strong feeling how well I could dispense with it at once and for ever. 
 This passes away, however, as better and more dutiful thoughts rise in my 
 mind." 
 
 ya«. 24. — "I went to the court for the first time to-day, and, like the 
 man with the large nose, thought everybody was thinking of me and my mis- 
 haps. Many were, undoubtedly ; and all rather regrettingly, some obviously 
 affected . . . The best bred — il, I believe, meaning equally well— just shook 
 hands with me." 
 
 Of this memorable interview with his old friends, Lord Cockbum 
 in his Memorials of his Time, chap, vii., writes — 
 
 " Well do I remember his first appearance after this calamity was divulged, 
 when he walked into court, one day in January, 1826. There was no affecta- 
 tion, and no reality of y5z«K^zV/ no look of indifference or defiance, but the 
 manly and modest air of a gentleman conscious of some folly, but of perfect 
 rectitude and of such heroic and honourable resolutions. He had not even 
 then apolitical enemy. There was not one of them whom his thoughtlessness had 
 so sorely provoked, who would not have given every spare farthing he possessed 
 to relieve Sir Walter." 
 
 Feb. 3. — " This is the first time since my trouble that I felt at awakening, 
 
 ' I had drunken deep 
 Of all the blessedness of sleep.' 
 
 I made not the slightest pause, nor dreamed a single dream, not even changed 
 my side. This is a blessing to be grateful for." 
 
 But, alas ! other clouds were again " lowering o'er his house ; " 
 and we find him relating on 
 
 March 12. — "Lady S., the faithful and true companion of my fortunes, 
 good and bad, for so many years, has, but with difficulty, been prevailed on to 
 see Dr. Abercrombie, and his opinion is far from favourable . . . really these 
 misfortunes come too close upon e3,oh other." 
 
 B B 
 
386 THE LIFE AND WORK OF 
 
 May 14. — "In lodgings at Edinburgh. A fair good-morrow to you, Mr. Sun, 
 who are shining so brightly on these dull walls. Methinks you look as if you 
 were looking as bright on the banks of the Tweed ; but look where you will, 
 Sir Sun, you look upon sorrojv and suffering." 
 
 May 15. — " Received the melancholy intelUgence that all is over at Abbots- 
 ford." 
 
 May 16. — " Abbotsford, she died at nine In the morning, after being very 
 ill for two days — easy at last . . . When I contrast what this place now is 
 with what it has been not long since, I think my heart will break— lonely, aged, 
 deprived of my family — all but poor Anne ; an impoverished, an overharassed 
 man, deprived of the sharer of my thoughts and counsels, who could always 
 talk down my sense of the calamitous apprehensions which break the heart 
 which must bear them alone ... I have seen her ! The figure I beheld is not 
 my Charlotte— my thirty years' companion ! ... If I write long in this way, 
 I shall write down my resolution, which I should rather write up, if I could. 
 I wonder what I shall do with the large portion of thoug;hts which were hers for 
 thirty years. I suspect they will be hers yet for a long time at least. " 
 
 May 18. — " She is sentient and conscious of my emotions somewhere — some- 
 how ; where, we cannot tell ; how, v/e cannot tell ; yet would I not at this 
 moment renounce the mysterious yet certain hope that I shall see her in a 
 better world, for all that this world can give me . . . They are arranging the 
 charhber of death ; that which was long the apartment of connubial happiness, 
 and of whose arrangements (better than in richer houses) she was so proud. 
 They are treading fast and thick. For weeks you could have heard a footfall. 
 Oh, my God ! " 
 
 Edinburgh, May ■ip. — "Returned to town last night with Charles. This 
 morning resume ordinary habits of rising early, working in the morning, and 
 attending court . . . This has been a melancholy day — most melancholy 
 ... I ask, if my poor Charlotte can actually be dead. I think I feel my loss 
 more than at the first blow." 
 
 September Ti. — "As I slept for a few minutes in my chair, to which I am 
 more addicted than I could wish, I heard, as I thought, my poor wife call me 
 by the famihar name of fondness which she gave me. My recollections on 
 waking were melancholy enough." 
 
 On December 31, 1827, Scott gratefully enumerates the many 
 
 evidences of the divine goodness and mercy which claimed his 
 
 devout gratitude, thus concluding — 
 
 " For all these great blessings it becomes one well to be thankfiJ to God, 
 who, in his good time and good pleasure, sends us good as well as evil." 
 
 On the presentation of a " state of affairs," it appeared that on the 
 bankruptcy of January 16, 1826, Scott was due Constable's credi- 
 tors near 37,000/., and Ballantyne's 110,000/. ; and 
 
 "He thought that," see Lockhart, chap. 68, "by devoting the rest of 
 his life to the service of his creditors, he could in the upshot pay the last 
 farthing he owed them. They (vrith one or two paltry exceptions) ap- 
 plauded his honourable intentions and resolutions, and partook to a large 
 ejrtent in the reliance of their debtor. Nor had they miscalculated as to their 
 interest. He paid the penalty of health and life, but he saved his honour and 
 his self-respect. 
 
 ' The glory dies not, and the grief is past.' " 
 
 Woodstock was completed March 26, 1827 (the 69th day after 
 the bankruptcy), and on the 3rd April the author makes the pleasing 
 record, 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 387 
 
 ■ " I have the extraordinar)- and gratifying news that 'Woodstock' is sold for 
 8228/. ; all ready money — a matchless sum, for less than three months' work. 
 If ' Napoleon ' does as well, or near it, it wiU put the trust affairs in high 
 flourish. Four or five years of leisure and industry would, with such success, 
 amply replace my losses. " 
 
 But "Napoleon" — commenced in June, 1825, really written in 
 about twelve months, and published in June, '1827 — not only did 
 " as well," but much better ; 
 
 "His 'Napoleon' (first and second editions) produced for the creditors a 
 sum which it even now startles me to mention, — 18,000/. As by the time 
 ■ Napoleon ' was published nearly half of the first series of ' Chronicles of the 
 Canongate ' had been written, it is obvious that the amount to which Scott's 
 literary industry, from the close of 1825 to June loth, 1827, had diminished his 
 debt, cannot be stated at less than 28,000/. Had health been spared him, 
 how soon must he have freed himself from all his encumbrances ? " — Lockhart, 
 chap. 73. 
 
 At a meeting of trustees and creditors, held December 17, 1830, 
 
 "There was announced another dividend on the Ballantyne estate of three 
 shillings in the pound, — reducing the debtfto S4.ooo/. The meeting was 
 numerous ; and, not contented with a renewed vote of thanks to their debtor, 
 they passed unanimously the resolution . . 'That Sir Walter Scott be 
 requested to accept of his furniture, plate, linen, paintings, 'library, and 
 curiosities of every description, as the best means the creditors have of 
 expressing their very high sense of his most honourable conduct, and in 
 grateful acknowledgment for the unparalleled and most successful exertions he 
 has made and continues to make for them.' " 
 
 Soon after the death (September, 1832) of Sir Walter Scott, the 
 54,000/. due was settled by 22,000/., which had been insured on his 
 lifb, 2000/. in hands of the trustees, and 30,000/. advanced by Mr. 
 CadeU on security of Sir Walter's copyright property jand so pro- 
 ductive were the latter that by 1850 the 30,000/. was paid off. 
 
 In November, 1830, Sir Walter retired from his office of Princi- 
 pal Clerk to the Court of Session, with an allowance of 800/. per 
 annum ; the government offered him a pension to supply the defi- 
 ciency, but, by permission of his creditors, this was declined. 
 In summer of 183 1, Castle Dangerous and Count Rbbert of Paris 
 were concluded ; and he now consented to follow the advice of 
 his physicians, and spend a winter abroad, in'' complete abstinence 
 from all literary labour." 
 
 "A ship of war," wrote Sir W. S., "being commissioned by its royal master, 
 to carry the author of 'Waverley' to climates in which he may possibly attain 
 such a restoration of health as may serve him to spin his thread to an end in his 
 own country . . . The public have claims on his gratitude for which the 
 author of ' Waverley ' has no means of expression ; but he may be permitted 
 to hope that the powers of his mind, such as they are, may not have a 
 different date from those of his body; and that he, may again meet his 
 patronizing friends, if not in his old fashion of hterature, at least in some 
 branch which may not call forth the remark, that 
 
 ' Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage.' " 
 
388 THE LIFE AND WORK OF 
 
 He went forth from his halls with the prayers and benedictions of 
 all classes. Sir Walter left Abbotsford, September 23, 183 1, spent 
 some time in London, left England October 29, and returned to 
 London on June 13, 1832, remaining there until July 7. 
 
 "As we rounded the hill at Ladhope," says Lookhart, " and the outline of 
 the Eildons burst on the invalid, he became greatly excited ; and when, 
 turning himself on his couch, his eye caught at length his own towers, at the 
 distance of a mile, he sprang up with a cry of delight . . . Mr. Laidlaw was 
 waiting at the porch, and assisted us in Hfting him into the dining-room, where 
 his bed had been prepared. He sat bewildered for a few moments, and then, 
 resting his eye on Laidlaw, said, ' Ha ! Willie Laidlaw ! O man, how have I 
 thought of you ! ' By this time his dogs had assembled round his chair, — they 
 began to fawn upon him and hck his hands, and he alternately sobbed and 
 smiled over them, until sleep oppressed him." 
 
 September 17. — "As I was dressing, Nicolson came into my room, and told 
 me that his master had awoke in a state of composure and consciousness, and 
 wished to see me immediately. I found him entirely himself, though in the last 
 extreme of feebleness. His eye was clear and calm — every trace of the wild 
 fire of dehrium extinguished. ' Lockhart,' he said, ' I may have not a minute 
 to speak to you. My dear, be a good man — be virtuous — ^be religious.' He 
 paused, and I said, 'Shall I send for Sophia and Anne?' 'No,' said he, 
 ' don't disturb them, poor souls ! I know they were up all night — God bless you 
 all ! ' With this he sunk into a very tranquil sleep,- and, indeed, he scarcely 
 afterwards gave any sign of consciousness, except for an instant on the arrival of 
 his sons . . . About, 1.30 p.m., on the 21st of September, Sir Walter breathed 
 his last, in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day, — so warm 
 that every window was wide open, and so perfectly still, that the sound of all 
 others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, 
 was audible as we knelt around the bed and his eldest son kissed and closed 
 his eyes." 
 
 " 'The whole family history of Scott and Lockhart affords a striking instance 
 of the vanity of human vrishes. Scott's chief ambition was to be a country laird 
 and the founder of the family of the Scotts of Abbotsford. His inward thought 
 was that his house should continue for ever, and the land be called after his own 
 name. Of Scott's four children, the eldest son (Walter) died childless in; India, 
 and the other (Charles) unmarried, in Persia. The yotinger daughter (Anne) 
 died not long after her father, and Mrs. Lockhart (Sophia) four years later. 
 Her elder boy, the Hugh Little John for whom Sir Walter had vmtten his 
 'Tales of a Grandfather,' had dieci some years before. Lockhart had then a 
 son (Walter Scott, bom 1826), who is since dead, and his only daughter 
 (Charlotte Harriet Jane) . . . was married in 1847 to James Robert Hope, Esq. 
 (who has since taken the name of Scott), barrister-at-law, and has issue an only 
 daughter, Mary Morrice, bom in 1852. — London Times, December, 1854. 
 
 According to Howitt's " Homes and Haunts of Eminent British 
 Poets," it appears certain that the works of Sir Walter Scott must 
 have produced at the very least 500,000/. ; and, if this sum repre- 
 sents only the profits of the author and his assigns, how vast must 
 be the amount expended by the pubUc on these works ! 
 
 ■ ' Scott, as a poet, confident in the force and originality of his own genius, has 
 not been afraid to avail himself of common places, both of diction and of sen- 
 timent, whenever they appear to be beautiful and impressive, — ^using them, 
 however, at all times with the skill and spirit of an inventor; and has made 
 free use of that great treasury of invention, images and expressions which had 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 389 
 
 been accumulated by the most celebrated of his predecessors, —at the same time 
 that the rapidity of histransitions, the novelty of his combinations, and the spirit 
 and variety of his own thoughts and inventions show plainly that he was a Bor- 
 rower from anything but poverty, and took only what he would have ^ven if 
 he had been bom in an earher generation . . . Among his minor peculiari- 
 ties we might notice his singular talent for description, and especially for the 
 description of scenes abounding in motion or action of any Y\a.d.."—Lord 
 Jeffrey, Edinburgh Review, August, 1817. 
 
 ' ' The poems of Scott are historical narrations, true in all things to the spirit 
 of his history, but everywhere overspread with those bright and breathing 
 colours which only genius can bestow on reality . . . His poetry is in the 
 noblest sense national, and breathes upon us the bold and heroic spirit of per- 
 turbed but magnificent ages, and connects us, in the midst of philosophy, 
 science, and refinement, with our turbulent but high-minded ancestors, of 
 whom we have no cause to be ashamed, whether looked on in the fields of war 
 or in the halls of peace. He is a true knight in all things — free, courteous, and 
 brave. War, as he describes it, is a noble game, a kingly pastime. He is the 
 greatest of all War Poets. His poetry mirfit make a very coward fearless." — 
 Professor Wilson, Blackwood' s Magazine, July, 1818. 
 
 "The Prince Regent . . . preferred you to every bard, past and present, 
 and asked which of your works pleased me most. It was a difficult question. 
 I answered, I thought the 'Lay.' . . . I told him I thought you more par- 
 ticularly the poet of princes, as they never appeared more fascinating than in 
 'Marmion' and the 'Lady of the Lake.' . . ." — Lord Byron to Scott, 
 July 6th, i8r2. 
 
 ' ' Scott is a poet truly national and heroic . . , No one since the days of 
 Homer has sung with such an impetuous and burning breath the muster, the 
 march, the onset, and all the fiery vicissitudes of battle." — Allan Cunning- 
 ham, Lit. of Last Fifty Years, 1833. 
 
 ' ' In the metrical romances of Scott . . . there was the indisputable impress 
 of worth, of genuine human force, in them. This, which lies in some degrees, 
 or is thought to lie, at the bottom of all popularity, did to an unusual degree 
 disclose itself in his rhymed romances. Pictures were actually painted and pre- 
 sented ; human emotions conceived and sympathised with." — Thomas Carlyle, 
 London and Westminster Review, 1838. 
 
 "We esteem the productions which the great novelist of Scotland has 
 poured forth with startling rapidity from his rich treasury, not only as multi- 
 plying the sources of delight to thousands, but as shedding the most genial 
 influences on the taste and feelings of the people . . . He writes everywhere 
 with a" keen and mirthful relish for all the good things of life, — constantly 
 refreshes us, where we least expected it, with a sense of that pleasure which is 
 spread through the earth, ' to be caught in stray gifts by whoever will find,' 
 and brightens all things with the spirit of gladness. There is little of a medita- 
 tive or retrospective cast in his works. Whatever age he chooses for his story, 
 lives before us ... Of all men who have ever written, except Shakspeare, he 
 has perhaps the least of exclusiveness, the least of those feehngs which keep 
 men apart from their kind . . . His tolerance is the most complete, for it 
 extends to adverse bigotries . . . his genius shines with an equal light on all 
 ... free and universal and bounteous as the sun, and pouring its radiance with 
 a like impartiality upon a living and rejoicing world." — Sir T. N. Talfourd, 
 New Monthly Magazine. 
 
 "It is the great glory of Scott that, by nice attention to costume and 
 character in his novels, he has raised them to historic importance, without im- 
 pairing their interest as works of art. Who now would imagine that he could 
 form a satisfactory notion of the golden days of Queen Bess, that had not read 
 ' ' Kenilworth,' or of Richard Coeur de Lion and his brave paladins, that has 
 not read ' Ivanhoe "... Scott was in truth master of the picturesque. He 
 understood, better than any historian since the time of Livy, how to dispose his 
 lights and shades, so as to produce the most striking result ... his mind was 
 steeped in Scottish lore, and his bosom warmed with a sympathetic glow for 
 
390 THE LIFE AND WORK OF 
 
 the age of chivalry.'' — Wm. H. Prescott, Critical and Historical Essays, 
 
 "Two of Moore's contemporaries must be placed above him in any fair 
 estimate of the authors of the first part of the nineteenth century. Byron rose 
 as a poet above all his rivals . . . Scott is the other wonder of the age. Pic- 
 turesquely interesting and bard-like as are his narrative poems, the pathos, 
 humour, description, character, and, above all, the marvellous fertility dis- 
 played in his novels, shovir far greater power ; a whole region of the territory of 
 imagination is occupied by this extraordinary man, alone and unapproachable 
 . . . The novels of Scott will fimiish entertainment to many generations ; nor 
 is there likely to be any race of men so fastidious as to require anything purer, 
 so spoilt by excitement as to need anything more amusing, or so grave as to 
 scorn all delight from this kind of composition." — Lord John Russell, 
 Maoris Metnoirs. 
 
 "Few of the innumerable readers of Sir Walter have had personal means 
 of judging of the fidelity of his pictures of the manners and ideas of the Scotch 
 peasants in his earher novels ; but yet there is no one in any country who does 
 not at once see that they have been drawn from nature, and contairi the most 
 faithful picture of it." — Sir Archibald Alison' s Essays, 1850. 
 
 ' ' From Sir Walter Scott the Scottish nation, for the first time, knew the character 
 of its ancestors ; for these were not spectres — not they, indeed — nor phantoms of 
 the brain, but gaunt flesh and blood, or glad and glorious ; base-bom churls of 
 the olden time, because Scottish, beca.Tie famihar to the love of the nation's 
 heart, and so to its pride did the high-born lineage of palace kings ... We 
 know now the character of our own people as it showed itself in war and peace 
 — in palace, hall, hut, hovel, and shelling — through centuries of advancing 
 civilization." — Professor Wilsons Recreations of Christopher North. 
 
 "Sir Walter Scott opened up on every side new scenes of invention. In 
 poetry and romance, he showed there was not a comer of these islands which 
 was not so far from being exhausted, standing thick with the richest materials 
 for the most wonderful and beautiful creations. The reign of the schoolmen 
 and of the copyists was at an end. Nature, history, tradition, life, every thing 
 and every place were shown by this new vigorous spirit to be full to over- 
 flowing with what had been, in the dim eyes of former soi-disant geniuses, only 
 dry bones, but which at the touch of this bold necromancer, sprung up living 
 forms of the most fascinating grace . . . The whole land seemed astir with 
 armies, insurrections, pageantries of love, and passages of sorrow, that for 
 twenty years kept the enraptured public in a trance, as it were, of one accumu- 
 lating marvel and joy. There seemed no bounds to his powers, or the fields of 
 his operations." — William Hewitt's Homes a7td Haunts of Poets. 
 
 " No writer ever exercised so great an influence over the public, or led to so 
 much conscious or unconscious imitation. His influence extended to Italy, 
 France, and Germany. . . His vmtings are calculated to strengthen the ties of 
 our common humanity ; they never tend to foster a bad, or to throw ridicule 
 upon a good or generous feeling ; while speaking of them in a mere literary 
 point of view, they taught lessons of simphcity, good taste, invention, and skill 
 in seizing the best points, both of character and description, which have not 
 been without their effect even on those by whom the mere memoir of Scott, or 
 choice of his subjects, have been studiously avoided." — Professor George Moir, 
 EncycloptEdia Brittanica, Art. Romance, 
 
 " Criticism on Scott's works is now superfluous. They have taken their 
 enduring station in the literature of the world. If the applause of foreign 
 nations be equivalent to it, as it is said to be the voice of posterity, no author who 
 ever wrote has obtained that honour in so large a measure. His novels, his 
 poems, havebeen translated into every civilized language ; his heroes and heroines 
 have become household words all over the world : . . The tribes of imitators, 
 whether of his verse or prose, whom he called into existence, are countless. 
 Many of them are persons of great abilities and unquestioned genius. Which 
 of them will be named in competition with the master? Not one."— Z>?-. Wm. 
 Maginn, Frasers Magazine, Oct. 1833. 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 391 
 
 " Sir Walter Scott is universally considered as the greatest writer of imagina- 
 tion of this century ; and his reputation has been so wide spread and lasting, 
 that it may be reasonably anticipated that it will not decline in succeeding 
 time . . . Close observation of nature, whether animate or inanimate, was 
 his great characteristic . . . He was at once pictorial and dramatic. To this 
 he owes his great success, — hence his world-vride reputation . . . The novels 
 of the author of Waverley caused the poems of Walter Scott to be for a time 
 forgotten. But time has re-established them in their celebrity ; and, great as is 
 still the fame of the Scott Novels, it is rivalled by the heart-stirring verses of 
 ' Marmion,' the endiuing charm of the ' Lady of the Lake' . . . No man ever 
 threw a more cheering radiance over the traditions of ancient times, but none 
 ever delineated in a nobler spirit the virtues of the present ; and his discrimi- 
 nating eye discovered them equally under the thatch of the cottage as in the 
 halls of the castle . . . The writings of no man ever contributed more power- 
 fully to that purification of the minds of the people . . . and, perhaps, he is the 
 only author of numerous works of fiction of whom it may be with truth said 
 that he never wrote a line which, on death-bed, he could wish recalled." — Sir 
 Arch. Alison : History of Europe. 
 
 ' ' The works of Walter Scott have incorporated themselves with the thoughts 
 and concerns of the whole civilized world for more than a quarter of a century, 
 and have had a controlling influence over the age in which he lived." — 
 Washington Irving. 
 
 ' ' Scott united the sympathies of two hostile races, the Saxon and the Gael, 
 by the sheer force of genius. He healed the bitterness of centuries. Scott 
 did much in ideaUzing, as poetry should, the common life of his contem- 
 poraries. He equally did much in rendering the past history, and the history 
 of other countries in which Scotchmen played a conspicuous part, real to us. 
 But it is hardly a figure of speech to say that he created the Celtic Highlands in 
 the eyes of the whole civilized world. If this be not first-rate power, it may be 
 asked, where are we to find it?" — F. T. Palgrave : Memoir of Scott, 1866. 
 
 " No bad idea will be formed of Scott's conversation by supposing one of his 
 Scotch novels to be cut into talk. It is not so much conversation as in a joyous 
 flow of anecdote, story, character, and scenes most humorous, always graphic, 
 and never personal or ill-natured. His habits at this time [Sept. 1828] were 
 these : he rose about six, wrote from about half-past six till nine, — the Second 
 Series of the Tales of a Grandfather being then the work ; breakfasted and 
 lounged from nine to eleven ; wrote from eleven till about two ; walked till 
 about four ; dined at five, partaking freely, but far from immoderately, of yarious 
 wines ; and then, as soon as the ladies withdrew, taking to cigars and not 
 whisky-toddy ; went to the drawing-room soon, where he inspired everybody 
 with his passion for Scotch music ; and, if anxiously asked, never refused to 
 recite any old ballad, or tell any old tale. The house was asleep by eleven. 
 When fitted up for dinner, he was like any other comfortably ill-dressed gentle- 
 man. But in the morning, with the large over-Jacket, great stick, and leathern 
 cap, he was Dandle Dinmont or Dirk Hatteraick, — a smuggler or a poacher." — 
 Lord Cockburn's Memorials. 
 
 ~" His chief merits in society were a cheerful tone, an inexhaustible memory, 
 and a fund of anecdotes and stories which he told with strong Scottish humour, 
 aided by a strong Scottish accent. But in order to see Sir Walter Scott at his 
 ease it was necessary to see him at the head of his own table, or, at least, in 
 his own country ... in his own house, surround him with friends, and there 
 could not be a more agreeable or a more unaffected member of society . . . He 
 enjoyed his pony, and his dogs, as if he had been the homeliest squire in Tweed- 
 side." — Lord John Russell's Life of Moore. 
 
 ". . . It is hardly possible to conceive a more fortunate mortal than him 
 that is possessed of such powers along with such fehcity in the exercise of them, 
 and who unites the finest genius to a cheerful, social disposition and an un- 
 diminished relish for the pursuits and enjoyments of ordinary life. Sir W. 
 Scott is a great poet grafted upon the excellent stock of a good-natured, lively, 
 active, reasonable, companionable man." — Lord Dudley's Letters, 1840. 
 
392 THE LIFE AND WORK OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 ' ' Byron continually reverts to Sir Walter Scott, and always in terms of admi- 
 ration for his genius, and affection for his good qualities ; he says he never gets 
 up from the perusal of one of his works without finding himself in a better dis- 
 position, and that he generally reads his novels three times. ' I find such a just 
 mode of thinking,' said Byron, 'that I could fill volumes with detached 
 thoughts from Scott, all and each full of beauty. Then how good are his 
 definitions 1 ' . . . 'I think,' continued Byron, after a pause, ' that Scott is the 
 only veiy successful genius that could be cited as being as generally beloved as 
 a man as he is admired as an author ; and, I must add, he deserves it ; for he 
 is so thoroughly good-natiu-ed, sincere, and honest, that he disarms the envy 
 and jealousy his extraordinary genius must excite. I hope to meet Scott once 
 more before I die ; for, worn out as are my affections, he still retains a strong 
 hold of them." — Lady Blessington' s Conversations with Lord Byron. 
 
 "... Was introduced to Sir Walter Scott. He quite answered all my ex- 
 pectations of him ; and you may suppose they were very high. His manners 
 are those of an amiable and unaffected man and a polished gentleman, and his 
 conversation is something higher, for it is often quite as amusing and interesting 
 as his novels, and without any apparent attempt at display . . . He is tall and 
 well-formed, excepting one of his ankles and foot (I think, the rig:ht), which is 
 crippled, and makes him walk very lamely. He is neither fat nor thin. His face 
 is perfectly Scotch, and, though some people think it heavy, it struck me as a 
 very agreeable one .... His forehead is very high, his nose short, his upper 
 lip long, and the lower part of his face very fleshy. His complexion is fresh and 
 clear, his eyes very blue, shrewd, and penetrating .... His hair, which has 
 always been very light (as well as his eyebrows and eyelashes), is now of a 
 silvery whiteness, which makes him look somewhat older than he really is (I 
 be¥eve, forty-six is his age). He was in a black frock coat, blue trousers, and 
 had on a black cravat ... Of the many portraits of him, Chantry's bust is, to 
 my mind, the most perfect, where the gentle turn of the head, inclined a httle 
 forward and down, and the lurking humour in the eye and about the mouth, 
 are Scott's own." — C. H. Leslies Aatobiog. Recollections, i860. 
 
 "What a good gentleman ! what a^friendly soul ! what a generous hand ! 
 what an amiable life was that of Sir Walter Scott ! " — Thackeray : George IV. 
 
 " Such was the end of Sir Walter Scott. He died a great man, and, what is 
 more, a good man. He has left us a double treasure, — the memory of himself, 
 and the possession of his works. Both of these will endure." — Rt. Hon. W.E. 
 Gladstone, Feb. 2, 1868. 
 
 "The surliest critics must allow that Scott was a genuine man, which itself 
 is a great matter. No affectation, fantasticahty, or distortion dwelt in him ; no 
 shadow of cant. Nay, withal, was he not a right brave and strong man, a 
 credit to his kind ? What a load of toil, what a measure of felicity, he quietly 
 bore along with him ! — ^with what quiet strength he both worked on the earth, 
 and enjoyed in it ; invincible to evil fortune and to good ! . . . And then with 
 such a sunny current of true humour and humanity, a free, joyful Sympathy with 
 so many things ; — ^what a fire he had, all lying so beautifully latent, as radiant 
 latent heat, as fruitful internal warmth of life : a most robust, healthy man . . . 
 no sotmder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth cen- 
 tury of time. Alas ! his fine Scotch face, with its shaggy honesty, sagacity, 
 and goodness, when we saw it latterly on the Edinburgh streets, was all worn 
 with care, the joy all fled from it — ^ploughed deep with labour and sorrow. 
 We shall never forget it ; we shall never see it again. Adieu, Sir Walter, pride 
 of all Scotchmen : take our proud and last farewell 1 " — Thomas Carlyle: Lon- 
 don and Westminster Review, 1838, 
 
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