"'Older, I should think, sir. You are always telling me how much
more decorously she goes through all the honours of the
tea-table--Lord, papa, what if you should give her a right to
preside once and for ever!'

'Julia, my, dear,' returned papa 'you are either a fool outright,
or you are more disposed to make mischief than I have yet believed
you.'

"'Oh, my dear. sir! put your best construction upon it--I would
not be thought. a. fool for all the world. '

'Then why do you talk like one?' said my father.

'Lord, sir, I am sure there is nothing so foolish in what I said
just now--everybody knows you are a very handsome man' (a smile
was just visible), 'that is, for your time of life' (the dawn was
over-cast), 'which is far from being advanced, and I am sure I
don't know why you should not please yourself, if you have a
mind. I am sensible I am but a thoughtless girl, and if a graver
companion could render you more happy--'

"There was a mixture of displeasure and grave affection in the
manner in which my father took my hand, that was a severe reproof
to me for trifling with his feelings. 'Julia,' he said, 'I bear
with much of your petulance, because I think I have in some degree
deserved it, by neglecting to superintend your education
sufficiently closely. Yet I would not have you give it the rein
upon a subject so delicate. If you do not respect the feelings of
your surviving parent towards the memory of her whom you have lost,
attend at least to the sacred claims of misfortune; and observe,
that the slightest hint of such a jest reaching Miss Bertram's ears
would at once induce her to renounce her present asylum, and go
forth, without a protector, into a world she has already felt so
unfriendly.'

'What could I say to this, Matilda?--I only cried heartily, begged
pardon, and promised to be a good girl in future. And so here am I
neutralised again, for I cannot, in honour, or common good-nature,
tease poor Lucy by interfering with Hazlewood, although she has so
little confidence in me; and neither can I, after this grave
appeal, venture again upon such delicate ground with papa. So I
burn little rolls of paper, and sketch Turks' heads upon visiting
cards with the blackened end--I assure you I succeeded in making a
superb Hyder-Ally last night--and I jingle on my unfortunate
harpsichord, and begin at the end of a grave book and read it
backward.--After all, I begin to be very much vexed about Brown's
silence. Had he been obliged to leave the country, I am sure he
would at least have written to me--Is it possible that my father
can have intercepted his letters? But no--that is contrary to all
his principles--I don't think he would open a letter addressed to
me to-night, to prevent my jumping out of window to-morrow--What an
expression I have suffered to escape my pen! I should he ashamed
of it, even to you, Matilda, and used in jest. But I need not take
much merit for acting as I ought to do; this same Mr. Vanbeest
Brown is by no means so very ardent a lover as to hurry the object
of his attachment into such inconsiderate steps. He gives one full
time to reflect, that must be admitted. However, I will not blame
him unheard, nor permit myself to doubt the manly firmness of a
character which I have so often extolled to you. Were he capable
of doubt, of fear, of the shadow of change, I should have little to
regret.

"And why, you will say, when I expect such steady and unalterable
constancy from a lover, why should I be anxious about what
Hazlewood does, or to whom he offers his attentions?--I ask myself
the questions a hundred times a day, and it only receives the very
silly answer, that one does not like to be neglected, though one
would not encourage a serious infidelity.

"I write all these trifles, because you say that they amuse
you,--and yet I wonder how they should. I remember, in our stolen
voyages to the world of fiction, you always admired the grand and
the romantic--tales of knights, dwarfs, giants, and distressed
damsels, soothsayers, visions, beckoning ghosts, and bloody
hands,--whereas I was partial to the involved intrigues of private
life, or at furthest, to so much only of the supernatural as is
conferred by the agency of an Eastern genie or a beneficent fairy.
You would have loved to shape your course of life over the broad
ocean, with its dead calms and howling tempests, its, tornadoes,
and its billows mountain-high,--whereas I should like to trim my
little pinnace to a brisk breeze in some inland lake or tranquil
bay where there was just difficulty of navigation sufficient to
give interest and to require skill, without any sensible degree of
danger. So that, upon the whole, Matilda, I think you should have
had my father, with his pride of arms and of ancestry, his
chivalrous point of honour, his high talents, and his abstruse and
mystic studies--You should have had Lucy Bertram too for your
friend, whose fathers, with names which alike defy memory and
orthography, ruled over this romantic country, and whose birth took
place, as I have been indistinctly informed, under circumstances of
deep and peculiar interest--You should have had, too, our Scottish
residence, surrounded by mountains, and our lonely walks to haunted
ruins--And I should have had, in exchange, the lawns and shrubs,
and greenhouses, and conservatories, of Pine Park, with your, good,
quiet, indulgent aunt, her chapel in the morning, her nap after
dinner, her hand at whist in the evening, not forgetting her fat
coach-horses and fatter coachman. Take notice, however, that Brown
is not included in this proposed barter of mine--his good-humour,

lively conversation, and open gallantry, suit my plan of life, as
well as his athletic form, handsome features, and high spirit,
would accord with a character of chivalry. So as we cannot change
altogether out and out, I think we must e'en abide as we are."



CHAPTER XXX.

  I renounce your defiance; if you parley so roughly I'll
  barricado my gates against you.--Do you see yon bay
  window? Storm,--I care not, serving the good Duke of
  Norfolk.
  Merry Devil of Edmonton.

JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMC)NT.

"I rise from a sick-bed, my dearest Matlida, to communicate the
strange and frightful scenes which have just passed. Alas! how
little we ought to jest with futurity! I closed my letter to you
in high spirits, with some flippant remarks on your taste for the
romantic and extraordinary in fictitious narrative. How little I
expected to have had such events to record in the course of a few
days! and to witness scenes of terror, or to contemplate them in
description, is as different, my dearest Matilda, as to bend over
the brink, of a precipice holding by the frail tenure of a
half-rotted shrub, or to admire the same precipice as represented
in the landscape of Salvator. But I will not anticipate my
narrative.

"The first part of my story is frightful enough, though it had
nothing to interest my feelings. You must know that this country
is particularly favourable to the commerce of a set of desperate
men from the Isle of Man, which is nearly opposite. These
smugglers are numerous, resolute, and formidable, and have at
different times become the dread of the neighbourhood when any one
has interfered with their contraband trade. The local magistrates,
from timidity or worse motives, have become shy of acting against
them, and impunity has rendered them equally daring and desperate.
With all this, my father, a stranger in the land, and invested with
no official authority, had, one would think, nothing to do. But it
must be owned, that, as he himself expresses it, he was born when
Mars was lord of his ascendant, and that strife and bloodshed find
him out in circumstances and situations the most retired and
pacific.

"About eleven o'clock on last Tuesday morning, while Hazlewood and
my father were proposing to walk to a little lake about three
miles' distance, for the purpose of shooting wild ducks, and while
Lucy and I were busied with arranging our plan of work and study
for the day, we were alarmed by the sound of horses' feet,
advancing very fast up the avenue. The ground was hardened by a
severe frost, which made the clatter of the hoofs sound yet louder
and sharper. In a moment, two or three men, armed, mounted, and
each leading a spare horse loaded with packages, appeared on the
lawn, and, without keeping upon the road, which makes a small
sweep, pushed right across for the door of the house. Their
appearance was in the utmost degree hurried and disordered, and
they frequently looked back like men who apprehended a close and
deadly pursuit. My father and Hazlewood hurried to the front door
to demand who they were, and what was their business. They were
revenue officers, they stated, who had seized these horses, loaded
with contraband articles, at a place about three miles off. But
the smugglers had been reinforced, and were now pursuing them with
the avowed purpose of recovering the goods, and putting to death
the officers who had presumed to do their duty. The men said that
their horses being loaded, and the pursuers gaining ground upon
them, they had fled to Woodboume, conceiving, that as my father had
served the king, he would not refuse to protect the servants of
government, when threatened to be murdered in the discharge of
their duty.

"My father, to whom, in his enthusiastic feelings of military
loyalty, even a dog would be of importance if he came in the king's
name, gave prompt orders for securing the goods in the hall, arming
the servants, and defending the house in case it should be
necessary. Hazlewood seconded him with great spirit, and even the
strange animal they call Sampson stalked out of his den, and seized
upon a fowling-piece, which my father had laid aside, to take what
they call a rifle-gun, with which they shoot tigers, etc., in the
east. The piece went off in the awkward hands of the poor parson,
and very nearly shot one' of the excisemen. At this unexpected and
involuntary explosion of his weapon, the Dominie (such is his
nickname) exclaimed, 'Prodigious!' which is his usual ejaculation
when astonished. But no power could force the man to part with his
discharged piece, so they were content to let him retain it, with
the precaution of trusting him with no ammunition. This (excepting
the alarm occasioned by the report) escaped my notice at the time,
you may easily believe; but in talking over the scene afterwards,
Hazlewood made us very merry with the Dominie's ignorant but
zealous valour.

"When my father had got everything into proper order for defence,
and his people stationed at the windows with their firearms, he
wanted to order us out of danger--into the cellar, I believe--but
we could not be prevailed upon to stir. Though terrified to death,
I have so much of his own spirit that I would look upon the peril
which. threatens us rather than hear it rage around me without
knowing its nature or its progress. Lucy, looking as pale as a
marble statue, and keeping her eyes fixed on Hazlewood, seemed not
even to hear the prayers with which he conjured her to leave the
front of the house. But, in truth, unless the hall-door should be
forced, we were in little danger; the windows being almost blocked
up with cushion's and pillows, and, what the Dominie most lamented,
with folio volumes. , brought hastily from the library, leaving
only spaces through which the defenders might fire upon the
assailants.

"My father had now made his dispositions, and we sat in breathless
expectation in the darkened apartment, the men remaining all silent
upon their posts, in anxious contemplation probably of the
approaching danger. My father, who was quite at home in such a
scene, walked from one to another, and reiterated his orders, that
no one should presume to fire until he gave the word. Hazlewood,
who seemed to catch courage from his eye, acted as his
aide-de-camp, and displayed the utmost alertness in bearing his
directions from one place to another, and seeing them properly
carried into execution. Our force, with the strangers included,
might amount to about twelve men.

"At length the silence of this awful period of expectation was
broken by a sound, which, at a distance, was like the rushing of a
stream of water, but, as it approached, we distinguished the
thick-beating clang of a number of horses advancing very fast. I
had arranged a loophole for myself, from which I could see the
approach of the enemy. The noise increased and came nearer, and at
length thirty horsemen and more rushed upon the lawn. You never
saw such horrid wretches! Notwithstanding the severity of the
season, they were most of them stripped to their shirts and
trousers, with silk handkerchiefs knotted about their heads, and
all well armed with carbines, pistols, and cutlasses. I, who am a
soldier's daughter, and accustomed to see war from my infancy, was
never so terrified in my life as by the savage appearance of these
ruffians, their horses reeking with the speed at which they had
ridden, and their furious exclamations of rage and disappointment,
when they saw themselves baulked of their prey. They paused,
however, when they saw the preparations made to receive them, and
appeared to hold a moment's consultation among themselves. At
length, one of the party, his face blackened with gunpowder by way
of disguise, came forward with a white handkerchief on the end of
his carbine, and asked to speak with Colonel Mannering. My father,
to my infinite terror, threw open a window near which he was
posted, and demanded what he wanted. 'We want our goods, which we
have been robbed of by these sharks,' said the fellow; 'and our
lieutenant bids me say, that if they are delivered, we'll go off
for this bout without clearing scores with the rascals who took
them; but if not, we'll burn the house, and have the heart's blood
every one in it.'--a threat which he. repeated more than once,
graced by a fresh variety of imprecations, and the most horrid
denunciations that cruelty could suggest.

"'And which is your lieutenant?' said my father in reply.

"'That gentleman on the gray horse,' said the miscreant, I with the
red handkerchief bound about his brow.'

"'Then be pleased to tell that gentleman, that it he, and the
scoundrels who are with him, do not ride off the lawn this instant,
I will fire upon them without ceremony." So saying, my father shut
the window, and broke short the conference.

"The fellow no sooner regained his troop, than with a loud hurra,
or rather a savage yell, they fired a volley against our garrison.
The glass of the windows was shattered in every direction, but the
precautions already noticed saved the party within from suffering.
Three such volleys were fired without a shot being returned from
within. My father then observed them getting hatchets and crows,
probably to assail the hall-door, and called aloud, 'Let none fire
but Hazlewood and me--Hazlewood, mark the ambassador.' He himself
aimed at the man on the gray horse, who fell on receiving his
shot. Hazlewood was equally successful. He shot the spokesman,
who had dismounted, and was advancing with an axe in his hand.
Their fall discouraged the rest, who began to turn round their
horses; and a few shots fired at them soon sent them off, bearing
along with them their slain or wounded companions. We could not
observe that they suffered any further loss. Shortly after their
retreat a party of soldiers made their appearance, to my infinite
relief. These men were quartered at a village some miles distant,
and had marched on the first rumour of the skirmish. A part of
them escorted the terrified revenue officers and their seizure to a
neighbouring seaport as a place of safety, and at my earnest
request two or three files remained with us for that and the
following day, for the security of the house from the vengeance of
these banditti.

"Such, dearest Matilda, was my first alarm. I must not forget to
add, that the ruffians left, at a cottage on the roadside, the man
whose face was blackened with powder, apparently because he was
unable to bear transportation. He died in about half an hour
after. On examining the corpse, it proved to be that of a
profligate boor in the neighbourhood, a person notorious as a
poacher and--smuggler. We I received many messages of
congratulation from the neighbouring families, and it was generally
allowed that a few such instances of spirited resistance would
greatly check the presumption of these lawless men. My father
distributed rewards among his servants, and praised Hazlewood's
courage and coolness to the skies. Lucy and I came in for a share
of his applause, because we had stood fire with firmness, and had
not disturbed him with screams or expostulations. As for the
Dominie, my father took an opportunity of begging to exchange
snuff-boxes with him. The honest gentleman was much flattered with
the proposal, and extolled the beauty, of his new snuff-box
excessively. 'It looked,' he said, 'as well as if it were real gold
from Ophir. '--lndeed it would be odd if it should not, being
formed in fact of that very metal: but, to do this honest creature
justice, I believe the knowledge of its real value would not
enhance his sense of my father's kindness supposing it, as he does,
to be pinchbeck gilded. He has had a hard task replacing the
folios which were used in the barricade, smoothing out the creases
And dog-ears, and repairing the other disasters they have sustained
during their service in the Fortification. He brought us some
pieces of lead and bullets which these ponderous tomes had
intercepted during the action, and which he had extracted with
great care; and, were I in spirits, I could give you a comic
account of his astonishment at the apathy with which we heard of
the wounds and mutilation suffered by Thomas Aquinas, or the
venerable Chrysostom. But I am not in spirits, and I have yet
another and a more interesting incident to communicate. I feel,
however, so much fatigued with my present exertion, that I cannot
resume the pen till to-morrow. I will detain this letter
notwithstanding, that you may not feel any anxiety upon account of
your own

"JULIA MANNERING."



CHAPTER XXXI.

  Here's a good world! -Knew you of this fair work?
    King John

JULIA MANNERING TO MATILDA MARCHMONT.

"I must take tip the thread of my story, my dearest Matilda, where
I broke off yesterday.

"For two or three days we talked of nothing but our siege and its
probable consequences, and dinned into my father's unwilling ears
a proposal to go to Edinburgh, or at least to Dumfries, where
there is remarkably good society, until the resentment of these
outlaws should blow over. He answered with great composure, that
he had no mind to have his landlord's house and his own property
at Woodbourne destroyed; that, with our good leave, he had usually
been esteemed competent to taking measures for the safety or
protection of his family; that if he remained quick at home, he
conceived the welcome the villains had received was not of a nature
to invite a second visit, but should he show any signs of alarm, it
would be the sure way to incur the very risk which we were afraid
of. Heartened by his arguments, and by the extreme indifference
with which he treated the supposed danger, we began to grow a
little bolder, and to walk about as usual Only the gentlemen were
sometimes invited to take their guns when they attended us, and I
observed that my father for several nights paid particular
attention to having the house properly secured and required his
domestics to keep their arms in readiness in case of necessity.

"But three days ago chanced an occurrence, of a nature which
alarmed me more by far than. the attack of the smugglers.

"I told you there was a small lake at some distance from
Woodbourne, where the gentlemen sometimes go to shoot wild-fowl. I
happened at breakfast to say I should like to see this place in its
present frozen state, occupied by skaters and curlers, as they call
those who play a particular sort of game upon the ice. There is
snow on the ground, but frozen so hard that I thought Lucy and I
might venture to that distance, as the footpath leading there was
well beaten by the repair of those who frequented it for pastime.
Hazlewood instantly offered to attend us, and we stipulated that he
should take his fowling-piece. He laughed a good deal at the idea
of going a-shooting in the snow; but, to relieve our tremors,
desired that a groom, who acts as gamekeeper occasionally, should
follow us with his gun. As for Colonel Mannering, he does not like
crowds or sights of any kind where human figures make up the show,
unless indeed it were a military review--so he declined the party.

"We set out unusually early, on a fine frosty, exhilarating
morning, and we felt our minds, as well as our nerves, braced by
the elasticity of the pure air. Our walk to the lake was
delightful, or at least the difficulties were only such as diverted
us, a slippery descent for instance, or a frozen ditch to cross,
which made Hazlewood's assistance absolutely necessary. I don't
think Lucy liked her walk the less for these occasional
embarrassments.

"The scene upon the lake was beautiful. One side of it is bordered
by a steep crag, from which hung a thousand enormous icicles all
glittering in the sun; on the other side was a little wood, now
exhibiting that fantastic appearance which the pine-trees present
when their branches are loaded with snow. On the frozen bosom of
the lake itself were a multitude of moving figures, some flitting
along with the velocity of swallows, some sweeping in the most
graceful circles, and others deeply interested in a less active
pastime, crowding round the spot where the inhabitants of two rival
parishes contended for the prize at curling,--an honour of no small
importance, if we were to judge from the anxiety expressed both by
the players and bystanders. We walked round the little lake,
supported by Hazlewood, who lent us each an arm. He spoke, poor
fellow, with great kindness, to old and. young, and seemed
deservedly popular among the assembled crowd. At length we thought
of retiring.

"Why do I mention these trivial occurrences?"--not, Heaven knows,
from the interest I can now attach to them--but because, like a
drowning man who catches at a brittle twig, I seize every apology
for delaying the subsequent and dreadful part of my narrative. But,
it must be communicated--I must have the sympathy of at least one
friend under this heart-rending calamity.

"We were returning home by a footpath, which led through a
plantation of firs. Lucy had quitted Hazlewood's arm--it is only
the plea of absolute necessity which reconciles her to accept his
assistance. I still leaned upon his other arm. Lucy followed us
close, and the servant was two or three paces behind us. Such was
our position, when at once, and as if he had started out of the
earth, Brown stood before us at a short turn of the road! He was
very plainly, I might say coarsely, dressed, and his whole
appearance had in it something wild and agitated. I screamed
between surprise and terror--Hazlewood mistook the nature of my
alarm, and, when Brown advanced towards me as if to speak,
commanded him haughtily to stand back, and not to alarm the lady.
Brown replied, with equal asperity, he had no occasion to take
lessons from him how to behave to that or any other lady. I rather
believe that Hazlewood, impressed with the idea that he belonged to
the band of smugglers, and had some bad purpose in view, heard and
understood him imperfectly. He snatched the gun from the servant,
who had come up on a line with us, and, pointing the muzzle at
Brown, commanded him to stand off at his peril. My screams, for my
terror prevented my finding articulate language, only hastened the
catastrophe. Brown, thus menaced, sprung upon Hazlewood, grappled
with him, and had nearly succeeded in wrenching the fowling-piece
from his grasp, when the gun went off in the struggle, and the
contents were lodged in Hazlewood's shoulder, who instantly fell. I
saw no more, for the whole scene reeled before my eyes, and I
fainted away; but, by Lucy's report, the unhappy perpetrator of
this action gazed a moment on the scene before him, until her
screams began to alarm the people upon the lake, several of whom
now came in sight. He then bounded over a hedge, which divided the
footpath from the plantation, and has not since been heard of. The
servant made no attempt to stop or secure him, and the report he
made of the matter to those who came up to us, induced them rather
to exercise their humanity in recalling me to life, than show their
courage by pursuing a desperado, described by the groom as a man of
tremendous personal strength, and completely armed.

"Hazlewood was conveyed home, that is, to Woodbourne, in safety--I
trust his wound will prove in no respect dangerous, though he
suffers much. But to Brown the consequences must be most
disastrous. He is already the object of my father's resentment,
and he has now incurred danger from the law of the country, as well
as from the clamorous vengeance of the father of Hazlewood, who
threatens to move heaven and earth against the author of his son's
wound. How will he be able to shroud himself from the vindictive
activity of the pursuit? how to defend himself, if taken, against
the severity of laws which I am told may even affect his life? and
how can I find means to warn him of his danger? Then poor Lucy's
ill-concealed grief, occasioned by her lover's wound, is another
source of distress to me, and everything round me appears to bear
witness against that indiscretion which has occasioned this
calamity.

"For two days I was very ill indeed. The news that Hazlewood was
recovering, and that the person who bad shot him was nowhere to be
traced, only that for certain he was one of the leaders of the gang
of smugglers, gave me some comfort. The suspicion and pursuit
being directed towards those people, must naturally facilitate
Brown's escape, and, I trust, has, ere this, ensured it. But
patrols of horse and foot traverse the country in all directions,
and I am tortured by a thousand confused and unauthenticated
rumours of arrests and discoveries.

"Meanwhile, my greatest source of comfort is the generous candour
of Hazlewood, who persists in declaring, that with whatever
intentions the person by whom he was wounded approached our party,
he is convinced the gun went off in the struggle by accident, and
that the injury he received was undesigned. The groom, on the
other hand, maintains that the piece was wrenched out of
Hazlewood's hands, and deliberately pointed at his body, and Lucy
inclines to the same opinion--I do not suspect them of wilful
exaggeration, yet such is the fallacy of human testimony, for the
unhappy shot was most unquestionably discharged unintentionally.
Perhaps it would be the best way to confide the whole secret to
Hazlewood--but he is very young, and I feel the utmost repugnance
to communicate to him my folly. I once thought of disclosing the
mystery to Lucy, and began by asking what she recollected of the
person and features of the man whom we had so unfortunately met--
but she ran out into such a horrid description of a hedge-ruffian,
that I was deprived of all courage and disposition to own my
attachment to one of such appearance as she attributed to him. I
must say Miss Bertram is strangely biased by her prepossessions,
for there are few handsomer men than poor Brown. I had not seen
him for a long time, and even in his strange and sudden apparition
on this unhappy occasion, and under every disadvantage, his form
seems to me, on reflection, improved in grace, and his features in
expressive dignity.--Shall we ever meet again? Who can answer that
question?--Write to me, kindly, my dearest Matilda--but when did
you otherwise?--yet, again, write to me soon, and write to me,
kindly. I am not in a situation to profit by advice or reproof,
nor have I my usual spirits to parry them by raillery. I feel the
terrors of a child, who has, in heedless sport, put in motion some
powerful piece of machinery; and, while he beholds wheels
revolving, chains clashing, cylinders rolling around him, is
equally astonished at the tremendous powers which his weak agency
has called into action, and terrified for the consequences which he
is compelled to await, without the possibility of averting them.

"I must not omit to say that my father is very kind and
affectionate. The alarm which I have received forms a sufficient
apology for my nervous complaints. My hopes are, that Brown has
made his escape into the sister kingdom of England, or perhaps to
Ireland, or the Isle of Man. In either case he may wait the issue
of Hazlewood's wound with safety and with patience, for the
communication of these countries with Scotland, for the purpose of
justice, is not (thank Heaven) of an intimate nature. The
consequences of his being apprehended would be terrible at this
moment. I endeavour to strengthen my mind by arguing against the
possibility of such a calamity. Alas! how soon have sorrows and
friars, real as well as severe, followed the uniform and tranquil
state of existence at which so lately I was disposed to repine! But
I will not oppress you any longer with my complaints. Adieu, my
dearest Matilda!
  JULIA MANNERING."



CHAPTER XXXII.

  A man may see how this world goes with no eyes.--Look with
  thine ears: See how yon justice rails upon yon simple thief.
  Hark in thine ear--change places; and, handy-dandy, which
  is the justice, which is the thief?  King Lear.

Among those who took the most lively interest in endeavouring to
discover the person by whom young Charles Hazlewood had been
waylaid and wounded, was Gilbert Glossin, Esquire, late writer in
--, now Laird of Ellangowan, and one of the worshipful commission
of justices of the peace for the county of--. His motives for
exertion on this occasion were manifold; but we presume that our
readers, from what they already know of this gentleman, will acquit
him of being actuated by any zealous or intemperate love of
abstract justice.

The truth was, that this respectable personage felt himself less at
case than he had expected, after his machinations put him in
possession of his benefactor's estate. His reflections within
doors, where so much occurred to remind him of former times, were
not always the self-congratulations of successful stratagem. And
when he looked abroad, he could not but be sensible that he was
excluded from the society of the gentry of the county, to whose
rank he conceived he had raised himself. He was not admitted to
their clubs, and at meetings of a public nature, from which he
could not be altogether excluded, he found himself thwarted and
looked upon with coldness and contempt. Both principle and
prejudice co-operated in creating this dislike; for the gentlemen
of the county despised him for the lowness of his birth, while they
hated him for the means by which he had raised his fortune. With
the common people his reputation stood still worse. They would
neither yield him the territorial appellation of Ellangowan, nor
the usual compliment of Mr. Glossin;--with them he was bare
Glossin, and so incredibly was his vanity interested by this
trifling circumstance, that he was known to give half a crown to a
beggar, because he had thrice called him Ellangowan, in beseeching
him for a penny. He therefore felt acutely the general want of
respect, and particularly when he contrasted his own character and
reception in society with those of Mr. MacMorlan, who, in far
inferior worldly circumstances, was beloved and respected both by
rich and poor, and was slowly but securely laying the foundation of
a moderate fortune, with the general goodwill and esteem of all who
knew him.

Glossin, while he repined internally at what he would fain have
called the prejudices and prepossessions of the country, was too
wise to make any open complaint, He was sensible his elevation was
too recent to be immediately forgotten, and the means by which he
had attained it too odious to be soon forgiven. But time, thought
he, diminishes wonder and palliates misconduct. With the
dexterity, therefore, of one who made his fortune by studying the
weak points of human nature, he determined to lie by for
opportunities to make himself useful even to those who most
disliked him; trusting that his own abilities, the disposition of
country gentlemen to get into quarrels, when a lawyer's advice
becomes precious, and a thousand other contingencies, of which,
with patience and address, he doubted not to be able to avail
himself, would soon place him in a more important and respectable
light to his neighbours, and perhaps raise him to the eminence
sometimes attained by a shrewd, worldly, bustling man of business,
when, settled among a generation of country gentlemen, he becomes,
in Burns's language, The tongue of the trump to them a'. [*The
tongue of the trump is the wire of the Jew's harp, that which gives
sound to the whole instrument.] The attack on Colonel Mannering's
house, followed by the accident of Hazlewood's wound, appeared to
Glossin a proper opportunity to impress upon the country at large
the service which could he rendered by an active magistrate (for he
had been in the commission for some time), well acquainted with the
law, and no less so with the haunts and habits of the illicit
traders. He had acquired the latter kind of experience by a former
close alliance with some of the most desperate smugglers, in
consequence of which he had occasionally acted, sometimes as
partner, sometimes as legal adviser, with these persons. But the
connection had been dropped many years; nor, considering how short
the race of eminent characters of this description, and the
frequent circumstances which occur to make them retire from
particular scenes of action, had he the least reason to think that
his present researches could possibly compromise any old friend who
might possess means of retaliation. The having been concerned in
these practices abstractedly, was a circumstance which, according
to his opinion, ought in no respect to interfere with his now using
his experience in behalf of the public, or rather to further his
own private views. To acquire the good opinion and countenance of
Colonel Mannering would be no small object to a gentleman who was
much disposed to escape from Coventry; and to gain the favour of
old Hazlewood, who was a leading man in the county, was of more
importance still. Lastly, if he should succeed in discovering,
apprehending, and convicting the culprits, he would have the
satisfaction of mortifying, and in some degree disparaging,
Mac-Morlan, to whom, as Sheriff-substitute of the county, this sort
of investigation properly belonged, and who would certainly suffer
in public opinion should the voluntary exertions of Glossin be more
successful than his own.

Actuated by motives so stimulating, and well acquainted with the
lower retainers of the law, Glossin set every spring in motion to
detect and apprehend, if possible, some of the gang who had
attacked Woodbourne, and more particularly the individual who had
wounded Charles Hazlewood. He promised high rewards, he suggested
various schemes, and used his personal interest among his old
acquaintances who favoured the trade, urging that they had better
make sacrifice of an understrapper or two than incur the odium of
having favoured such atrocious proceedings. But for some time all
these exertions were in vain. The common people of the country
either favoured or feared the smugglers too much to afford any
evidence against them. At length, this busy magistrate obtained
information, that a man, having the dress and appearance of the
person who had wounded Hazlewood, had lodged on the evening before
the rencontre at the Gordon Arms in Kippletringan. Thither Mr.
Glossin immediately went, for the purpose of interrogating our old
acquaintance, Mrs. Mac-Candlish.

The reader may remember that Mr. Glossin did not, according to this
good woman's phrase, stand high in her books. She therefore
attended his summons to the parlour slowly and reluctantly, and, on
entering the room, paid her respects in the coldest possible
manner. The dialogue then proceeded as follows:-

"A fine frosty morning, Mrs. Mac-Candlish."

"Ay, sir; the morning's weel eneugh," answered the landlady
dryly.

"Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I wish to know if the justices are to dine
here as usual after the business of the court on Tuesday?"

"I believe--fancy sae, sir--as usual"--(about to leave the room).

"Stay a moment, Mrs. Mac-Candlish--why, you are in a prodigious
hurry, my good friend!--I have been thinking a club dining here
once a month would be a very pleasant thing."

"Certainly, sir; a club of respectable gentlemen."

"True, true," said Glossin, "I mean landed proprietors and
gentlemen of weight in the county; and I should like to set such a
thing a-going."

The short dry cough with which Mrs. Mac-Candlish received this
proposal, by no means indicated any dislike to the overture
abstractedly considered, but inferred much doubt how far it would
succeed under the auspices of the gentleman by whom it was
proposed. It was not a cough negative, but a cough dubious, and as
such Glossin felt it; but it was not his cue to take offence.

"Have there been brisk doings on the road, Mrs. Mac-Candlish?
plenty of company, I suppose?"

"Pretty weel, sir,--but I believe I am wanted at the bar."

"No, no,--stop one moment, cannot you, to oblige an old
customer?--Pray, do you remember a remarkably tall young man, who
lodged one night in your House last week?"

"Troth, sir, I canna weel say--I never take heed whether my company
be lang or short, if they make a lang bill."

"And if they do not, you can do that for them, eh, Mrs.
Mac-Candlish?--ha, ha, ha!--But this young man that I inquire after
was upwards of six feet high, had a dark frock, with metal buttons,
light-brown hair unpowdered, blue eyes, and a straight nose,
travelled on foot, had no servant or baggage.--you surely can
remember having seen such a traveller?"

"Indeed, sir," answered Mrs. Mac-Candlish, bent on baffling his
inquiries, "I canna charge my memory about the matter--there's
mair to do in a house like this, I trow, than to look after
passengers' hair, or their een, or noses either."

"Then, Mrs. Mac-Candlish, I must tell you in plain terms, that
this person suspected of having been guilty of a crime; and it is
in consequence of these suspicions that I, as a magistrate, require
this information from you,--and if you refuse to answer my
questions, I must put you upon your oath."

"Troth, sir, I am no free to swear [*Some of the strict dissenters
decline taking an oath before a civil magistrate]--we aye gaed to
the Antiburgher meeting--it's very true, in Bailie Mac-Candlish's
time (honest man), we keepit the kirk, whilk was most seemly in his
station, as having office--, but after his being called to a
better place than Kippletringan, I hae gaen back to worthy Maister
MacGrainer. And so ye see, sir, I am no clear to swear without
speaking to the minister--especially against ony sackless puir
young thing that's gaun through the country, stranger and
freendless like."

"I shall relieve your scruples, perhaps, without troubling Mr.
Mac-Grainer, when I tell you that this fellow whom I Inquire after
is the man who shot your young friend Charles Hazlewood."

"Gudeness! wha could hae thought the like o' that o' him?--
na, if it had been for debt, or e'en for a bit tuilzie
[*Scuffle] wi' the gauger, the deil o' Nelly Mac-Candlish's
tongue should ever hae wranged him. But if he really shot
young Hazlewood--But I canna think it, Mr. Glossin; this
will be same o' your skits [*Tricks] now--I canna think
it o' sae douce a lad;--na, na, this is just some a' your
auld s 'kits.--Ye'll he for having a horning or a caption
after him."

"I see you have no confidence in me, Mrs. Mac-Candlish;--
but look at these declarations, signed by the persons who
saw the crime committed, and judge yourself if the
description of the ruffian be not that of your guest."

He put the papers into her hand, which she perused very
carefully, often taking off her spectacles to cast her eyes
up to Heaven, or perhaps to wipe a tear from them, for young
Hazlewood was an especial favourite with the good dame.
"Aweel, aweel," she said, when she had concluded her
examination, "since it's e'en sae, I gie him up, the villain
--But oh, we are erring mortals!--I never saw a face I
liked better, or a lad that was mair douce and canny--I
thought he had been some gentleman under trouble.--But I
gie him up, the villain!--to shoot Charles Hazlewood--
and before the young ladies, poor innocent things!--I gie
him up.

"So you admit, then, that such a person lodged here the
night before this vile business?"

"Troth did he, sir, and a' the house were taen wi' him, he
was sic a frank, pleasant young man, It wasna for his
spending, I'm sure, for he just had a mutton-chop, and a mug
of ale, and maybe a glass or twa o' wine-and I asked him to
drink tea wi' myself, and didna put that into the bill; and
he took nae supper, for he said he was defeat [*Exhausted]
wi' travel a' the night afore--I dare say now it had been
on some hellicat errand or other."

"Did you by any chance learn his name?"

"I wot weel did I," said the landlady, now as eager to communicate
her evidence as formerly desirous to suppress it. "He tell'd me
his name was Brown, and he said it was likely that an auld woman
like a gipsy wife might be asking for him--Ay, ay! tell me your
company, and I'll tell you wha ye are! Oh, the villain!--Aweel,
sir, when he gaed away in the morning, he paid his bill very
honestly, and gae something to the chamber-maid, nae doubt, for
Grizy has naething frae me, by twa pair o' new shoon ilka year, and
maybe a bit compliment at Hansel Monanday--"Here Glossin found it
necessary to interfere, and bring the good woman back to the point.

"Ou than, he just said, if there comes such a person to inquire
after Mr. Brown, you will say I am gone to look at the skaters on
Loch Creeran, as you call it, and I will be back here to
dinner--But he never came back--though I expected him sae
faithfully, that I gae a look to making the friar's chicken mysell,
and to the crappit-heads [*Haddock-heads stuffed] too, and that's
what I dinna do for ordinary, Mr. Glossin--But little did I think
what skating wark he was gaun about--to shoot Mr. Charles, the
innocent lamb!"

Mr. Glossin, having, like a prudent examinator, suffered. his
witness, to give. vent to all her surprise and indignation, now
began to inquire whether the suspected person had left any property
or papers about the inn.

"Troth, he put a parcel--a sma' parcel, under my charge, and he
gave me some siller, and desired me to get him half a dozen ruffled
sarks, and Peg Pasley's in bands wi' them e'en now--they may serve
him to gang up the Lawnmarket I in, the scoundrel!" [*The
procession of the criminals to the gallows of old took that
direction, moving, as the schoolboy rhyme had it, Up the
Lawnmarket, Down the West Bow, Up the lang ladder, And down the
little tow.] Mr. Glossin then demanded to see the packet, but here
mine hostess demurred.

"She didna ken--she wad not say but justice should take its course
but when a thing, was trusted to ane in her way, doubtless they
were responsible--but she suld cry in Deacon Bearcliff, and if Mr.
Glossin liked to tak an inventar o' the property, and gie her a
receipt before the Deacon--or, what she wad like muckle better, an
it could, be scaled up and left in Deacon Bearclift's hands, it wad
mak her mind easy--She was for naething but justice on a' sides."

Mrs. Mac-Candlish's natural sagacity and acquired suspicion being
inflexible, Glossin sent for Deacon Bearcliff, to speak "anent the
villain that had shot Mr. Charles Hazlewood." The Deacon
accordingly made his appearance, with his wig awry, owing to the
hurry with which, at this summons of the Justice, he had exchanged
it for the Kilmarnock cap with which he usually attended his
customers. Mrs. MacCandlish then produced the parcel deposited with
her by Brown, in which was found the gipsy's purse. On perceiving
the value of the miscellaneous contents, Mrs. Mac-Candlish
internally congratulated herself upon the precautions she had taken
before delivering them up to Glossin, while he, with an appearance
of disinterested candour, was the first to propose they should be
properly inventoried, and deposited with Deacon Bearcliff, until
they should be sent to the Crown Office. "He did not" he observed,
"like to be personally responsible for articles which seemed of
considerable value, and had doubtless been acquired by the most
nefarious practices."

He then examined the paper in which the purse had been wrapt up. It
was the back of a letter addressed to V. Brown, Esquire, but the
rest of the address was torn away. The landlady,--now as eager to
throw light upon the criminal's escape as she had formerly been
desirous of withholding it, for the miscellaneous contents of the
purse argued strongly to her mind that all was not right,--Mrs.
Mac-Candlish, I say, now gave Glossin to understand, that her
postilion and hostler had both seen the stranger upon the ice that
day when young Hazlewood was wounded.

Our reader's old acquaintance, Jock Jabos, was first summoned, and
admitted frankly that he had seen and conversed upon the ice that
morning with a stranger, who, he understood, had lodged at the
Gordon Arms the night before.

"What turn did your conversation take?" said Glossin.

"Turn?--ou, we turned nae gate at a', but just keepit straight
forward upon the ice like."

"Well, but what did ye speak about?"

"Ou, he just asked questions like ony ither stranger," answered.
the postilion, possessed, as it seemed, with the refractory and
uncommunicative spirit which had left his mistress.

"But about what?" said Glossin.

"Ou, just about the folk that was playing at the curling, and about
auld Jock Stevenson that was at the cock, and about the leddies,
and sic like."

"What ladies? and what did he ask about them, Jock?" said the
interrogator.

"What leddies? ou, it was Miss Jowlia Mannering and Miss Lucy
Bertram, that ye ken fu' weel yourself, Mr. Glossin--they were
walking wi' the young Laird of Hazlewood upon the ice."

""And what did you tell him about them?" demanded Glossin.

"Tut, we just said that was Miss Lucy Bertram of Ellangowan, that
should ance have had a great estate in the country--and that was
Miss Jowlia Mannering, that was to be married to young
Hazlewood--See as she was hinging on his arm--we just spoke about
our country clashes like--he was a very frank man."

"Well, and what did he say in answer?"

"Ou, he just stared at the young leddies very keen like, and asked
if it was for certain that the marriage was to be between Miss
Mannering and young Hazlewood--and I answered him that it was for
positive and absolute certain, as I had an undoubted right to say
sae--for my third cousin Jean Clavers (she's a relation o' your
ain, Mr. Glossin, ye wad ken Jean lang syne?), she's sib
[*Related] to the housekeeper at Woodbourne, and she's tell'd me
mair than ance that there was naething could be mair likely."

"And what did the stranger say when you told him all this?" said
Glossin.

"Say?" echoed the postilion, "he said naething at a'--he just
stared at them as they walked round the loch upon the ice, as if he
could have eaten them, and he never took his ee aff them, or said
another word, or gave another glance at the Bonspiel, [*playing
match] though there was the finest fun amang the curlers ever was
seen--and he turned round and gaed aff the loch by the kirk-stile
through Woodbourne fir-plantings, and we saw nae mair o' him."

"Only think," said Mrs. Mac-Candlish, "what a hard heart he maun
hae had, to think o' hurting the poor young gentleman in the very
presence of the leddy he was to be married to!"

"Oh, Mrs. Mac-Candlish,' said Glossin, "there's been many cases
such as that on the record--,doubtless he was seeking revenge where
it would be deepest and sweetest."

"God pity us!" said Deacon Bearcliff, "we're puir frail creatures
when left to oursells!--ay, he forgot wha said, 'Vengeance is mine,
and I will repay it."'

"Weel, aweel, sirs," said Jabos, whose hard-headed and uncultivated
shrewdness seemed sometimes to start the game when others beat the
bush--"Weel, weel, ye may be a' mista'en yet--I'll never believe
that a man would lay a plan to shoot another wi' his ain gun. Lord
help me, I was the keeper's assistant down at the Isle mysell, and
I'll uphaud it, the biggest man in Scotland shouldna take a gun
frae me or I had weized the slugs through him, though I'm but sic a
little feckless [*Spiritless] body, fit for naething but the
outside o' a saddle and the fore-end o' a poschay--na, na, nae
living man wad venture on that. I'll wad ma best buckskins, and
they were new coft [*Bought] at Kirkcudbright fair, it's been a
chance job after a'. But if ye hae naething mair to say to me, I
am thinking I maun gang and see my beasts fed." And he departed
accordingly.

The hostler, who had accompanied him, gave evidence to the same
purpose. He and Mrs. MacCandlish were then re-interrogated,
whether Brown had no arms with him on that unhappy morning. "None,"
they said, "but an ordinary bit cutlass or hanger by his side."

"Now," said the Deacon, taking Glossin by the button (for, in
considering this intricate subject, he had forgot Glossin's new
accession of rank)--"this is but doubtfu' after a', Maister
Gilbert--for it was not Sae dooms [*Absolutely] likely that he
would go down into battle wi' sic sma' means."

Glossin extricated himself from the Deacon's grasp, and from the
discussion, though not with rudeness; for it was his present
interest to buy golden opinions from all sorts of people. He
inquired the price of tea and sugar, and spoke of providing himself
for the year; he gave Mrs. Mac-Candlish directions to have a
handsome entertainment in readiness for a party of five friends,
whom he intended to invite to dine with him at the Gordon Arms next
Saturday week; and, lastly, he gave a half-crown to Jock Jabos,
whom the hostler had deputed to hold his steed.