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 inspector.

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
friend's 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? 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 figurae._"--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--
_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 vociferated, "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 house-hold 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. Oldbuck, 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, Monkbarns," 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 will 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 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 Kittlebrig, 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 may 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
characterized 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 yourselves off by nine, and we
shall know your effective strength."

The grumbling voice of the man of law was then heard indistinctly
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
I'll 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 I 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." 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.--I 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 further 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 will go on the box with the coachman--I have no
desire to intrude--but two of the concurrents 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 gratitude 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 agonized 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 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 upon a charge becoming 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 dutiful
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 preeminently distinguished, broke off this
conversation. The cause we must refer to the next chapter.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.

           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 up stairs 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 instinctive 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 fellow," 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 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 inquiries, 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 first glance at 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 "Lordsake! 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 friends, _favete linguis_--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 goodness 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 ecstasy, 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 Oldbuck, Esq. of
Monkbarns, of the following purport:--

"Dear Sir,--To you, as my father's proved and valued friend, I venture 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 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 persons who acted formerly as his agents; and, by
advice of a creditable 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 assurance that his eyes are opened to the
character of a person against whom you have often, I know, warned him,
and whose baneful influence has been the occasion of these distresses.
And as I owe the means of relieving Sir Arthur to the generosity of a
matchless friend, it is my duty to take the most certain measures for the
supplies 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 Tannonburgh; but the old man
Ochiltree, whom particular circumstances have recommended as trustworthy,
has information when the packet is likely to reach that place, and will
take care to forward it. I expect to have soon an opportunity to
apologize in person 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 contents 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 acknowledgment to be despatched by that
day's post, for he was extremely 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. Seest
thou this paper, man?"

"A sist on a bill o' suspension," said the messenger, with a disappointed
look;--"I thought it would be a queer thing if ultimate diligence was to
be done against sic a gentleman as Sir Arthur--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, observing 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 sweepstakes, I suppose], that my
partner had the impropriety, in my absence, to undertake the concerns of
Messrs. Goldiebirds in preference to yours, and had written to you in an
unbecoming manner. I beg to make my most humble apology, as well as Mr.
Grindersons--[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. Wardour, 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 Monkbarns; "I see 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 client, 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
apologize 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 profession where unbounded
trust is necessarily reposed, there is nothing surprising that fools
should neglect it in their idleness, and tricksters 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
entrust the care of protecting 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 out the slaughter from afar; but
here's a blue pigeon (somewhat of the oldest and toughest, I grant) who
smelled the good news six or seven miles off, flew thither in the
taxed-cart, and returned with the olive branch."

"Ye owe it o' 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 mendicant's
shoulder.

"In disgrace with me?" said Sir Arthur--"how so?"--for the irritation
into which he had worked himself on occasion of the toast had been long
forgotten. "O, 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 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 accipitrem 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 measure behind a screen.

"I accede to this the more readily," said Sir Arthur, "because I remember
in my fathers 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
Ailsbie 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 round
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 Oldbuck, "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 commemorating in 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 privilege of the
duello, and, as being unable to encounter my fair enemy myself, I will
appear by my champion--But of this matter hereafter. 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 Antiquary.

"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 occasion to hear a
good deal of him, and we have several mutual friends--your son being one
of them. But I must go to Edinburgh; 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."

"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 bead from
behind the screen, where he had been plentifully regaling himself with
ale and cold meat--"an it like your honours, I can tell ye something that
will keep the Captain wi' us amaist as weel 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 it's 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 neer 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 touch afore he gaed to his bed,
for there's another man to watch in the day-time, and Caxon says he'll
friz 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.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THIRD.

              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 _par 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 array, 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 pretensions. 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 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 accomplished 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
in votis;_--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's 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 desperately 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 subjects," 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 the Antiquary's 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 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. Indeed, 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 stepped out in his night-gown, and
instantly received and returned his greeting.

"They are coming now, in good earnest, Monkbarns. I just cam frae
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, catching 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 now."

"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 licked 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."

"I'll 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); 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 into 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 any 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 Dousterswivel 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 drily. "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 the deuce 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 convenience 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 recommending a subscription to
him, and paying his bill at the Ferry! I never will pay any person's bill
again, that's certain.--And you kept up a constant correspondence with
Lovel, I suppose?"

"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 opening of
our letters at Fairport--And that's a's true; I hear Mrs. Mailsetter is
to lose her office for looking after other folk's business 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 yoursell, as ye did
puir Steenie Mucklebackit's.--What trouble was't to me? I was ganging
about at ony rate--Oh, but 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 oyster, and a' should gang wrang for want o't? and whiles I
thought I maun mak a clean breast and tell you a' about it; but then I
couldna weel do that without contravening Mr. Lovel'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 Bailies
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 so mony as they speak o', they'll be odds
against us. But there's mony yauld chields amang thae volunteers; and I
mauna 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 landward town?--Deil!" he
continued, grasping his pike-staff 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."

"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 wad
hae 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 you call it."

"I maun be ganging my ways back to Fairport," said the wanderer; "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"--

"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 Praetorian 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 successful 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 TWENTY-FOURTH.

                    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 dignity 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, startling 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 signal of invasion. *

* Note J. Alarms of Invasion.

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!--are 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! and
waur 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!--_he'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?"