"Which is to say, Mr. Lesley, that if I condescend to answer questions
which no man has a right to ask, and which are now put to me under
penalty of Captain M'Intyre's resentment, Captain MIntyre will condescend
to rest satisfied? Mr. Lesley, I have just one word to say on this
subject--I have no doubt my secret, if I had one, might be safely
entrusted to your honour, but I do not feel called upon to satisfy the
curiosity of any one. Captain M'Intyre met me in society which of itself
was a warrant to all the world, and particularly ought to be such to him,
that I was a gentleman. He has, in my opinion, no right to go any
further, or to inquire the pedigree, rank, or circumstances, of a
stranger, who, without seeking any intimate connection with him, or his,
chances to dine with his uncle, or walk in company with his sister."

"In that case, Captain M'Intyre requests you to be informed, that your
farther visits at Monkbarns, and all connection with Miss M'Intyre, must
be dropt, as disagreeable to him."

"I shall certainly," said Lovel, "visit Mr. Oldbuck when it suits me,
without paying the least respect to his nephew's threats or irritable
feelings. I respect the young lady's name too much (though nothing can be
slighter than our acquaintance) to introduce it into such a discussion."

"Since that is your resolution, sir," answered Lesley, "Captain M'Intyre
requests that Mr. Lovel, unless he wishes to be announced as a very
dubious character, will favour him with a meeting this evening, at seven,
at the thorn-tree in the little valley close by the ruins of St. Ruth."

"Most unquestionably, I will wait upon him. There is only one difficulty
--I must find a friend to accompany me, and where to seek one on this
short notice, as I have no acquaintance in Fairport--I will be on the
spot, however--Captain M'Intyre may be assured of that."

Lesley had taken his hat, and was as far as the door of the apartment,
when, as if moved by the peculiarity of Lovel's situation, he returned,
and thus addressed him: "Mr. Lovel, there is something so singular in all
this, that I cannot help again resuming the argument. You must be
yourself aware at this moment of the inconvenience of your preserving an
incognito, for which, I am convinced, there can be no dishonourable
reason. Still, this mystery renders it difficult for you to procure the
assistance of a friend in a crisis so delicate--nay, let me add, that
many persons will even consider it as a piece of Quixotry in M'Intyre to
give you a meeting, while your character and circumstances are involved
in such obscurity."

"I understand your innuendo, Mr. Lesley," rejoined Lovel; and though I
might be offended at its severity, I am not so, because it is meant
kindly. But, in my opinion, he is entitled to all the privileges of a
gentleman, to whose charge, during the time he has been known in the
society where he happens to move, nothing can be laid that is unhandsome
or unbecoming. For a friend, I dare say I shall find some one or other
who will do me that good turn; and if his experience be less than I could
wish, I am certain not to suffer through that circumstance when you are
in the field for my antagonist."

"I trust you will not," said Lesley; "but as I must, for my own sake, be
anxious to divide so heavy a responsibility with a capable assistant,
allow me to say, that Lieutenant Taffril's gun-brig is come into the
roadstead, and he himself is now at old Caxon's, where he lodges. I think
you have the same degree of acquaintance with him as with me, and, as I
am sure I should willingly have rendered you such a service were I not
engaged on the other side, I am convinced he will do so at your first
request."

"At the thorn-tree, then, Mr. Lesley, at seven this evening--the arms, I
presume, are pistols?"

"Exactly. M'Intyre has chosen the hour at which he can best escape from
Monkbarns--he was with me this morning by five, in order to return and
present himself before his uncle was up. Good-morning to you, Mr. Lovel."
And Lesley left the apartment.

Lovel was as brave as most men; but none can internally regard such a
crisis as now approached, without deep feelings of awe and uncertainty.
In a few hours he might be in another world to answer for an action which
his calmer thought told him was unjustifiable in a religious point of
view, or he might be wandering about in the present like Cain, with the
blood of his brother on his head. And all this might be saved by speaking
a single word. Yet pride whispered, that to speak that word now, would be
ascribed to a motive which would degrade him more low than even the most
injurious reasons that could be assigned for his silence. Every one, Miss
Wardour included, must then, he thought, account him a mean dishonoured
poltroon, who gave to the fear of meeting Captain M'Intyre the
explanation he had refused to the calm and handsome expostulations of Mr.
Lesley. M'Intyre's insolent behaviour to himself personally, the air of
pretension which he assumed towards Miss Wardour, and the extreme
injustice, arrogance, and incivility of his demands upon a perfect
stranger, seemed to justify him in repelling his rude investigation. In
short, he formed the resolution which might have been expected from so
young a man,--to shut the eyes, namely, of his calmer reason, and follow
the dictates of his offended pride. With this purpose he sought
Lieutenant Taffril.

The lieutenant received him with the good breeding of a gentleman and the
frankness of a sailor, and listened with no small surprise to the detail
which preceded his request that he might be favoured with his company at
his meeting with Captain M'Intyre. When he had finished, Taffril rose up
and walked through his apartment once or twice. "This is a most singular
circumstance," he said, "and really"--

"I am conscious, Mr. Taffril, how little I am entitled to make my present
request, but the urgency of circumstances hardly leaves me an
alternative."

"Permit me to ask you one question," asked the sailor;--"is there
anything of which you are ashamed in the circumstances which you have
declined to communicate."

"Upon my honour, no; there is nothing but what, in a very short time, I
trust I may publish to the whole world."

"I hope the mystery arises from no false shame at the lowness of your
friends perhaps, or connections?"

"No, on my word," replied Lovel.

"I have little sympathy for that folly," said Taffril--"indeed I cannot
be supposed to have any; for, speaking of my relations, I may be said to
have come myself from before the mast, and I believe I shall very soon
form a connection, which the world will think low enough, with a very
amiable girl, to whom I have been attached since we were next-door
neighbours, at a time when I little thought of the good fortune which has
brought me forward in the service."

"I assure you, Mr. Taffril," replied Lovel, "whatever were the rank of my
parents, I should never think of concealing it from a spirit of petty
pride. But I am so situated at present, that I cannot enter on the
subject of my family with any propriety."

"It is quite enough," said the honest sailor--"give me your hand; I'll
see you as well through this business as I can, though it is but an
unpleasant one after all--But what of that? our own honour has the next
call on us after our country;--you are a lad of spirit, and I own I think
Mr. Hector M'Intyre, with his long pedigree and his airs of family, very
much of a jackanapes. His father was a soldier of fortune as I am a
sailor--he himself, I suppose, is little better, unless just as his uncle
pleases; and whether one pursues fortune by land, or sea, makes no great
difference, I should fancy."

"None in the universe, certainly," answered Lovel.

"Well," said his new ally, "we will dine together and arrange matters for
this rencounter. I hope you understand the use of the weapon?"

"Not particularly," Lovel replied.

"I am sorry for that--M'Intyre is said to be a marksman."

"I am sorry for it also," said Lovel, "both for his sake and my own: I
must then, in self-defence, take my aim as well as I can."

"Well," added Taffril, "I will have our surgeon's mate on the field--a
good clever young fellow at caulking a shot-hole. I will let Lesley, who
is an honest fellow for a landsman, know that he attends for the benefit
of either party. Is there anything I can do for you in case of an
accident?"

"I have but little occasion to trouble you," said Lovel. "This small
billet contains the key of my escritoir, and my very brief secret. There
is one letter in the escritoir" (digesting a temporary swelling of the
heart as he spoke), "which I beg the favour of you to deliver with your
own hand."

"I understand," said the sailor. "Nay, my friend, never be ashamed for
the matter--an affectionate heart may overflow for an instant at the
eyes, if the ship were clearing for action; and, depend on it, whatever
your injunctions are, Dan Taffril will regard them like the bequest of a
dying brother. But this is all stuff;--we must get our things in fighting
order, and you will dine with me and my little surgeon's mate, at the
Graeme's-Arms over the way, at four o'clock."

"Agreed," said Lovel.

"Agreed," said Taffril; and the whole affair was arranged.

It was a beautiful summer evening, and the shadow of the solitary
thorn-tree was lengthening upon the short greensward of the narrow
valley, which was skirted by the woods that closed around the ruins of
St. Ruth. *

* [Supposed to have been suggested by the old Abbey of Arbroath in *
Forfarshire.]

 Lovel and Lieutenant Taffril, with the surgeon, came upon the ground
with a purpose of a nature very uncongenial to the soft, mild, and
pacific character of the hour and scene. The sheep, which during the
ardent heat of the day had sheltered in the breaches and hollows of the
gravelly bank, or under the roots of the aged and stunted trees, had now
spread themselves upon the face of the hill to enjoy their evening's
pasture, and bleated, to each other with that melancholy sound which at
once gives life to a landscape, and marks its solitude.--Taffril and
Lovel came on in deep conference, having, for fear of discovery, sent
their horses back to the town by the Lieutenant's servant. The opposite
party had not yet appeared on the field. But when they came upon the
ground, there sat upon the roots of the old thorn a figure as vigorous in
his decay as the moss-grown but strong and contorted boughs which served
him for a canopy. It was old Ochiltree. "This is embarrassing enough,"
said Lovel:--"How shall we get rid of this old fellow?"

"Here, father Adam," cried Taffril, who knew the mendicant of yore
--"here's half-a-crown for you. You must go to the Four Horse-shoes yonder
--the little inn, you know, and inquire for a servant with blue and
yellow livery. If he is not come, you'll wait for him, and tell him we
shall be with his master in about an hour's time. At any rate, wait there
till we come back,--and--Get off with you--Come, come, weigh anchor."

"I thank ye for your awmous," said Ochiltree, pocketing the piece of
money; "but I beg your pardon, Mr. Taffril--I canna gang your errand e'en
now."

"Why not, man? what can hinder you?"

"I wad speak a word wi' young Mr. Lovel."

"With me?" answered Lovel: "what would you say with me? Come, say on, and
be brief."

The mendicant led him a few paces aside. "Are ye indebted onything to the
Laird o' Monkbarns?"

"Indebted!--no, not I--what of that?--what makes you think so?"

"Ye maun ken I was at the shirra's the day; for, God help me, I gang
about a' gates like the troubled spirit; and wha suld come whirling there
in a post-chaise, but Monkbarns in an unco carfuffle--now, it's no a
little thing that will make his honour take a chaise and post-horse twa
days rinnin'."

"Well, well; but what is all this to me?"

"Ou, ye'se hear, ye'se hear. Weel, Monkbarns is closeted wi' the shirra
whatever puir folk may be left thereout--ye needna doubt that--the
gentlemen are aye unco civil amang themsells."

"For heaven's sake, my old friend"--

"Canna ye bid me gang to the deevil at ance, Mr. Lovel? it wad be mair
purpose fa'ard than to speak o' heaven in that impatient gate."

"But I have private business with Lieutenant Taffril here."

"Weel, weel, a' in gude time," said the beggar--"I can use a little wee
bit freedom wi' Mr. Daniel Taffril;--mony's the peery and the tap I
worked for him langsyne, for I was a worker in wood as weel as a
tinkler."

"You are either mad, Adam, or have a mind to drive me mad."

"Nane o' the twa," said Edie, suddenly changing his manner from the
protracted drawl of the mendicant to a brief and decided tone. "The
shirra sent for his clerk, and as the lad is rather light o' the tongue,
I fand it was for drawing a warrant to apprehend you--I thought it had
been on a _fugie_ warrant for debt; for a' body kens the laird likes
naebody to pit his hand in his pouch--But now I may haud my tongue, for I
see the M'Intyre lad and Mr. Lesley coming up, and I guess that
Monkbarns's purpose was very kind, and that yours is muckle waur than it
should be."

The antagonist now approached, and saluted with the stern civility which
befitted the occasion. "What has this old fellow to do here?" said
M'Intyre.

"I am an auld fallow," said Edie, "but I am also an auld soldier o' your
father's, for I served wi' him in the 42d."

"Serve where you please, you have no title to intrude on us," said
M'Intyre, "or"--and he lifted his cane _in terrorem,_ though without the
idea of touching the old man.

But Ochiltree's courage was roused by the insult. "Haud down your switch,
Captain M'Intyre! I am an auld soldier, as I said before, and I'll take
muckle frae your father's son; but no a touch o' the wand while my
pike-staff will haud thegither."

"Well, well, I was wrong--I was wrong," said M'Intyre; "here's a crown
for you--go your ways--what's the matter now?"

The old man drew himself up to the full advantage of his uncommon height,
and in despite of his dress, which indeed had more of the pilgrim than
the ordinary beggar, looked from height, manner, and emphasis of voice
and gesture, rather like a grey palmer or eremite preacher, the ghostly
counsellor of the young men who were around him, than the object of their
charity. His speech, indeed, was as homely as his habit, but as bold and
unceremonious as his erect and dignified demeanour. "What are ye come
here for, young men?" he said, addressing himself to the surprised
audience; "are ye come amongst the most lovely works of God to break his
laws? Have ye left the works of man, the houses and the cities that are
but clay and dust, like those that built them--and are ye come here among
the peaceful hills, and by the quiet waters, that will last whiles aught
earthly shall endure, to destroy each other's lives, that will have but
an unco short time, by the course of nature, to make up a lang account at
the close o't? O sirs! hae ye brothers, sisters, fathers, that hae tended
ye, and mothers that hae travailed for ye, friends that hae ca'd ye like
a piece o' their ain heart? and is this the way ye tak to make them
childless and brotherless and friendless? Ohon! it's an ill feight whar
he that wins has the warst o't. Think on't, bairns. I'm a puir man--but
I'm an auld man too--and what my poverty takes awa frae the weight o' my
counsel, grey hairs and a truthfu' heart should add it twenty times. Gang
hame, gang hame, like gude lads--the French will be ower to harry us ane
o' thae days, and ye'll hae feighting eneugh, and maybe auld Edie will
hirple out himsell if he can get a feal-dyke to lay his gun ower, and may
live to tell you whilk o' ye does the best where there's a good cause
afore ye."

There was something in the undaunted and independent manner, hardy
sentiment, and manly rude elocution of the old man, that had its effect
upon the party, and particularly on the seconds, whose pride was
uninterested in bringing the dispute to a bloody arbitrament, and who, on
the contrary, eagerly watched for an opportunity to recommend
reconciliation.

"Upon my word, Mr. Lesley," said Taffril, "old Adam speaks like an
oracle. Our friends here were very angry yesterday, and of course very
foolish;--today they should be cool, or at least we must be so in their
behalf. I think the word should be forget and forgive on both sides,
--that we should all shake hands, fire these foolish crackers in the air,
and go home to sup in a body at the Graeme's-Arms."

"I would heartily recommend it," said Lesley; "for, amidst a great deal
of heat and irritation on both sides, I confess myself unable to discover
any rational ground of quarrel."

"Gentlemen," said M'Intyre, very coldly, "all this should have been
thought of before. In my opinion, persons that have carried this matter
so far as we have done, and who should part without carrying it any
farther, might go to supper at the Graeme's-Arms very joyously, but would
rise the next morning with reputations as ragged as our friend here, who
has obliged us with a rather unnecessary display of his oratory. I speak
for myself, that I find myself bound to call upon you to proceed without
more delay."

"And I," said Lovel, "as I never desired any, have also to request these
gentlemen to arrange preliminaries as fast as possible."

"Bairns! bairns!" cried old Ochiltree; but perceiving he was no longer
attended to--"Madmen, I should say--but your blood be on your heads!" And
the old man drew off from the ground, which was now measured out by the
seconds, and continued muttering and talking to himself in sullen
indignation, mixed with anxiety, and with a strong feeling of painful
curiosity. Without paying farther attention to his presence or
remonstrances, Mr. Lesley and the Lieutenant made the necessary
arrangements for the duel, and it was agreed that both parties should
fire when Mr. Lesley dropped his handkerchief.

The fatal sign was given, and both fired almost in the same moment.
Captain M'Intyre's ball grazed the side of his opponent, but did not draw
blood. That of Lovel was more true to the aim; M'Intyre reeled and fell.
Raising himself on his arm, his first exclamation was, "It is nothing--it
is nothing--give us the other pistols." But in an instant he said, in a
lower tone, "I believe I have enough--and what's worse, I fear I deserve
it. Mr. Lovel, or whatever your name is, fly and save yourself--Bear all
witness, I provoked this matter." Then raising himself again on his arm,
he added, "Shake hands, Lovel--I believe you to be a gentleman--forgive
my rudeness, and I forgive you my death--My poor sister!"

The surgeon came up to perform his part of the tragedy, and Lovel stood
gazing on the evil of which he had been the active, though unwilling
cause, with a dizzy and bewildered eye. He was roused from his trance by
the grasp of the mendicant. "Why stand you gazing on your deed?--What's
doomed is doomed--what's done is past recalling. But awa, awa, if ye wad
save your young blood from a shamefu' death--I see the men out by yonder
that are come ower late to part ye--but, out and alack! sune eneugh, and
ower sune, to drag ye to prison."

"He is right--he is right," exclaimed Taffril; "you must not attempt to
get on the high-road--get into the wood till night. My brig will be under
sail by that time, and at three in the morning, when the tide will serve,
I shall have the boat waiting for you at the Mussel-crag. Away-away, for
Heaven's sake!"

"O yes! fly, fly!" repeated the wounded man, his words faltering with
convulsive sobs.

"Come with me," said the mendicant, almost dragging him off; "the
Captain's plan is the best--I'll carry ye to a place where ye might be
concealed in the meantime, were they to seek ye 'wi' sleuth-hounds."

"Go, go," again urged Lieutenant Taffril--"to stay here is mere madness."

"It was worse madness to have come hither," said Lovel, pressing his
hand--"But farewell!" And he followed Ochiltree into the recesses of the
wood.




                          CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.


                      --The Lord Abbot had a soul
               Subtile and quick, and searching as the fire;
               By magic stairs he went as deep as hell,
               And if in devils' possession gold be kept,
         He brought some sure from thence--'tis hid in caves,
                        Known, save to me, to none.--
                                   The Wonder of a Kingdome.

Lovel almost mechanically followed the beggar, who led the way with a
hasty and steady pace, through bush and bramble, avoiding the beaten
path, and often turning to listen whether there were any sounds of
pursuit behind them. They sometimes descended into the very bed of the
torrent, sometimes kept a narrow and precarious path, that the sheep
(which, with the sluttish negligence towards property of that sort
universal in Scotland, were allowed to stray in the copse) had made along
the very verge of its overhanging banks. From time to time Lovel had a
glance of the path which he had traversed the day before in company with
Sir Arthur, the Antiquary, and the young ladies. Dejected, embarrassed,
and occupied by a thousand inquietudes, as he then was, what would he now
have given to regain the sense of innocence which alone can
counter-balance a thousand evils! "Yet, then," such was his hasty and
involuntary reflection, "even then, guiltless and valued by all around
me, I thought myself unhappy. What am I now, with this young man's blood
upon my hands?--the feeling of pride which urged me to the deed has now
deserted me, as the actual fiend himself is said to do those whom he has
tempted to guilt." Even his affection for Miss Wardour sunk for the time
before the first pangs of remorse, and he thought he could have
encountered every agony of slighted love to have had the conscious
freedom from blood-guiltiness which he possessed in the morning.

These painful reflections were not interrupted by any conversation on the
part of his guide, who threaded the thicket before him, now holding back
the sprays to make his path easy, now exhorting him to make haste, now
muttering to himself, after the custom of solitary and neglected old age,
words which might have escaped Lovel's ear even had he listened to them,
or which, apprehended and retained, were too isolated to convey any
connected meaning,--a habit which may be often observed among people of
the old man's age and calling.

At length, as Lovel, exhausted by his late indisposition, the harrowing
feelings by which he was agitated, and the exertion necessary to keep up
with his guide in a path so rugged, began to flag and fall behind, two or
three very precarious steps placed him on the front of a precipice
overhung with brushwood and copse. Here a cave, as narrow in its entrance
as a fox-earth, was indicated by a small fissure in the rock, screened by
the boughs of an aged oak, which, anchored by its thick and twisted roots
in the upper part of the cleft, flung its branches almost straight
outward from the cliff, concealing it effectually from all observation.
It might indeed have escaped the attention even of those who had stood at
its very opening, so uninviting was the portal at which the beggar
entered. But within, the cavern was higher and more roomy, cut into two
separate branches, which, intersecting each other at right angles, formed
an emblem of the cross, and indicated the abode of an anchoret of former
times. There are many caves of the same kind in different parts of
Scotland. I need only instance those of Gorton, near Rosslyn, in a scene
well known to the admirers of romantic nature.

The light within the eave was a dusky twilight at the entrance, which
failed altogether in the inner recesses. "Few folks ken o' this place,"
said the old man; "to the best o'my knowledge, there's just twa living by
mysell, and that's Jingling Jock and the Lang Linker. I have had mony a
thought, that when I fand mysell auld and forfairn, and no able to enjoy
God's blessed air ony langer, I wad drag mysell here wi' a pickle
ait-meal; and see, there's a bit bonny dropping well that popples that
self-same gate simmer and winter;--and I wad e'en streek mysell out here,
and abide my removal, like an auld dog that trails its useless ugsome
carcass into some bush or bracken no to gie living things a scunner wi'
the sight o't when it's dead--Ay, and then, when the dogs barked at the
lone farm-stead, the gudewife wad cry, Whisht, stirra, that'll be auld
Edie,' and the bits o' weans wad up, puir things, and toddle to the door
to pu' in the auld Blue-Gown that mends a' their bonny-dies--But there
wad be nae mair word o' Edie, I trow."

He then led Lovel, who followed him unresistingly, into one of the
interior branches of the cave. "Here," he said, "is a bit turnpike-stair
that gaes up to the auld kirk abune. Some folks say this place was howkit
out by the monks lang syne to hide their treasure in, and some said that
they used to bring things into the abbey this gate by night, that they
durstna sae weel hae brought in by the main port and in open day--And
some said that ane o' them turned a saint (or aiblins wad hae had folk
think sae), and settled him down in this Saint Ruth's cell, as the auld
folks aye ca'd it, and garr'd big the stair, that he might gang up to the
kirk when they were at the divine service. The Laird o' Monkbarns wad hae
a hantle to say about it, as he has about maist things, if he ken'd only
about the place. But whether it was made for man's devices or God's
service, I have seen ower muckle sin done in it in my day, and far ower
muckle have I been partaker of--ay, even here in this dark cove. Mony a
gudewife's been wondering what for the red cock didna craw her up in the
morning, when he's been roasting, puir fallow, in this dark hole--And,
ohon! I wish that and the like o' that had been the warst o't! Whiles
they wad hae heard the din we were making in the very bowels o' the
earth, when Sanders Aikwood, that was forester in thae days, the father
o' Ringan that now is, was gaun daundering about the wood at e'en, to see
after the Laird's game and whiles he wad hae seen a glance o' the light
frae the door o' the cave, flaughtering against the hazels on the other
bank;--and then siccan stories as Sanders had about the worricows and
gyre-carlins that haunted about the auld wa's at e'en, and the lights
that he had seen, and the cries that he had heard, when there was nae
mortal e'e open but his ain; and eh! as he wad thrum them ower and ower
to the like o' me ayont the ingle at e'en, and as I wad gie the auld
silly carle grane for grane, and tale for tale, though I ken'd muckle
better about it than ever he did. Ay, ay--they were daft days thae;--but
they were a' vanity, and waur,--and it's fitting that they wha hae led a
light and evil life, and abused charity when they were young, suld
aiblins come to lack it when they are auld."

While Ochiltree was thus recounting the exploits and tricks of his
earlier life, with a tone in which glee and compunction alternately
predominated, his unfortunate auditor had sat down upon the hermit's
seat, hewn out of the solid rock, and abandoned himself to that
lassitude, both of mind and body, which generally follows a course of
events that have agitated both, The effect of his late indisposition,
which had much weakened his system, contributed to this lethargic
despondency. "The puir bairn!" said auld Edie, "an he sleeps in this damp
hole, he'll maybe wauken nae mair, or catch some sair disease. It's no
the same to him as to the like o' us, that can sleep ony gate an anes our
wames are fu'. Sit up, Maister Lovel, lad! After a's come and gane, I
dare say the captain-lad will do weel eneugh--and, after a', ye are no
the first that has had this misfortune. I hae seen mony a man killed, and
helped to kill them mysell, though there was nae quarrel between us--and
if it isna wrang to kill folk we have nae quarrel wi', just because they
wear another sort of a cockade, and speak a foreign language, I canna see
but a man may have excuse for killing his ain mortal foe, that comes
armed to the fair field to kill him. I dinna say it's right--God forbid
--or that it isna sinfu' to take away what ye canna restore, and that's
the breath of man, whilk is in his nostrils; but I say it is a sin to be
forgiven if it's repented of. Sinfu' men are we a'; but if ye wad believe
an auld grey sinner that has seen the evil o' his ways, there is as much
promise atween the twa boards o' the Testament as wad save the warst o'
us, could we but think sae."

With such scraps of comfort and of divinity as he possessed, the
mendicant thus continued to solicit and compel the attention of Lovel,
until the twilight began to fade into night. "Now," said Ochiltree, "I
will carry ye to a mair convenient place, where I hae sat mony a time to
hear the howlit crying out of the ivy tod, and to see the moonlight come
through the auld windows o' the ruins. There can be naebody come here
after this time o' night; and if they hae made ony search, thae
blackguard shirra'-officers and constables, it will hae been ower lang
syne. Od, they are as great cowards as ither folk, wi' a' their warrants
and king's keys*--I hae gien some o' them a gliff in my day, when they
were coming rather ower near me--But, lauded be grace for it! they canna
stir me now for ony waur than an auld man and a beggar, and my badge is a
gude protection; and then Miss Isabella Wardour is a tower o' strength,
ye ken"--(Lovel sighed)--"Aweel, dinna be cast down--bowls may a' row
right yet--gie the lassie time to ken her mind. She's the wale o' the
country for beauty, and a gude friend o' mine--I gang by the bridewell as
safe as by the kirk on a Sabbath--deil ony o' them daur hurt a hair o'
auld Edie's head now; I keep the crown o' the causey when I gae to the
borough, and rub shouthers wi' a bailie wi' as little concern as an he
were a brock."

* The king's keys are, in law phrase, the crow-bars and hammers used to
force doors and locks, in execution of the king's warrant.

While the mendicant spoke thus, he was busied in removing a few loose
stones in one angle of the eave, which obscured the entrance of the
staircase of which he had spoken, and led the way into it, followed by
Lovel in passive silence.

"The air's free eneugh," said the old man; "the monks took care o' that,
for they werena a lang-breathed generation, I reckon; they hae contrived
queer tirlie-wirlie holes, that gang out to the open air, and keep the
stair as caller as a kail-blade."

Lovel accordingly found the staircase well aired, and, though narrow, it
was neither ruinous nor long, but speedily admitted them into a narrow
gallery contrived to run within the side wall of the chancel, from which
it received air and light through apertures ingeniously hidden amid the
florid ornaments of the Gothic architecture.

"This secret passage ance gaed round great part o' the biggin," said the
beggar, "and through the wa' o' the place I've heard Monkbarns ca' the
Refractory" [meaning probably _Refectory_], "and so awa to the Prior's
ain house. It's like he could use it to listen what the monks were saying
at meal-time,--and then he might come ben here and see that they were
busy skreighing awa wi' the psalms doun below there; and then, when he
saw a' was right and tight, he might step awa and fetch in a bonnie lass
at the cove yonder--for they were queer hands the monks, unless mony lees
is made on them. But our folk were at great pains lang syne to big up the
passage in some parts, and pu' it down in others, for fear o' some
uncanny body getting into it, and finding their way down to the cove: it
wad hae been a fashious job that--by my certie, some o' our necks wad hae
been ewking."

They now came to a place where the gallery was enlarged into a small
circle, sufficient to contain a stone seat. A niche, constructed exactly
before it, projected forward into the chancel, and as its sides were
latticed, as it were, with perforated stone-work, it commanded a full
view of the chancel in every direction, and was probably constructed, as
Edie intimated, to be a convenient watch-tower, from which the superior
priest, himself unseen, might watch the behaviour of his monks, and
ascertain, by personal inspection, their punctual attendance upon those
rites of devotion which his rank exempted him from sharing with them. As
this niche made one of a regular series which stretched along the wall of
the chancel, and in no respect differed from the rest when seen from
below, the secret station, screened as it was by the stone figure of St.
Michael and the dragon, and the open tracery around the niche, was
completely hid from observation. The private passage, confined to its
pristine breadth, had originally continued beyond this seat; but the
jealous precautions of the vagabonds who frequented the cave of St. Ruth
had caused them to build it carefully up with hewn stones from the ruin.

"We shall be better here," said Edie, seating himself on the stone bench,
and stretching the lappet of his blue gown upon the spot, when he
motioned Lovel to sit down beside him--"we shall be better here than doun
below; the air's free and mild, and the savour of the wallflowers, and
siccan shrubs as grow on thae ruined wa's, is far mair refreshing than
the damp smell doun below yonder. They smell sweetest by night-time thae
flowers, and they're maist aye seen about rained buildings. Now, Maister
Lovel, can ony o' you scholars gie a gude reason for that?"

Lovel replied in the negative.

"I am thinking," resumed the beggar, "that they'll be, like mony folk's
gude gifts, that often seem maist gracious in adversity--or maybe it's a
parable, to teach us no to slight them that are in the darkness of sin
and the decay of tribulation, since God sends odours to refresh the
mirkest hour, and flowers and pleasant bushes to clothe the ruined
buildings. And now I wad like a wise man to tell me whether Heaven is
maist pleased wi' the sight we are looking upon--thae pleasant and quiet
lang streaks o' moonlight that are lying sae still on the floor o' this
auld kirk, and glancing through the great pillars and stanchions o' the
carved windows, and just dancing like on the leaves o' the dark ivy as
the breath o' wind shakes it--I wonder whether this is mair pleasing to
Heaven than when it was lighted up wi' lamps, and candles nae doubt, and
roughies,* and wi' the mirth and the frankincent that they speak of in
the Holy Scripture, and wi' organs assuredly, and men and women singers,
and sackbuts, and dulcimers, and a' instruments o' music--I wonder if
that was acceptable, or whether it is of these grand parafle o'
ceremonies that holy writ says, It is an abomination to me.

* Links, or torches.

I am thinking, Maister Lovel, if twa puir contrite spirits like yours and
mine fand grace to make our petition"--

Here Lovel laid his hand eagerly on the mendicant's arm, saying,--"Hush!
I heard some one speak."

"I am dull o' hearing," answered Edie, in a whisper, "but we're surely
safe here--where was the sound?"

Lovel pointed to the door of the chancel, which, highly ornamented,
occupied the west end of the building, surmounted by the carved window,
which let in a flood of moonlight over it.

"They can be nane o' our folk," said Edie in the same low and cautious
tone; "there's but twa o' them kens o' the place, and they're mony a mile
off, if they are still bound on their weary pilgrimage. I'll never think
it's the officers here at this time o' night. I am nae believer in auld
wives' stories about ghaists, though this is gey like a place for them
--But mortal, or of the other world, here they come!--twa men and a
light."

And in very truth, while the mendicant spoke, two human figures darkened
with their shadows the entrance of the chancel--which had before opened
to the moon-lit meadow beyond, and the small lantern which one of them
displayed, glimmered pale in the clear and strong beams of the moon, as
the evening star does among the lights of the departing day. The first
and most obvious idea was, that, despite the asseverations of Edie
Ochiltree, the persons who approached the ruins at an hour so uncommon
must be the officers of justice in quest of Lovel. But no part of their
conduct confirmed the suspicion. A touch and a whisper from the old man
warned Lovel that his best course was to remain quiet, and watch their
motions from their present place of concealment. Should anything appear
to render retreat necessary, they had behind them the private stair-case
and cavern, by means of which they could escape into the wood long before
any danger of close pursuit. They kept themselves, therefore, as still as
possible, and observed with eager and anxious curiosity every accent and
motion of these nocturnal wanderers.

After conversing together some time in whispers, the two figures advanced
into the middle of the chancel; and a voice, which Lovel at once
recognised, from its tone and dialect, to be that of Dousterswivel,
pronounced in a louder but still a smothered tone, "Indeed, mine goot
sir, dere cannot be one finer hour nor season for dis great purpose. You
shall see, mine goot sir, dat it is all one bibble-babble dat Mr.
Oldenbuck says, and dat he knows no more of what he speaks than one
little child. Mine soul! he expects to get as rich as one Jew for his
poor dirty one hundred pounds, which I care no more about, by mine honest
wort, than I care for an hundred stivers. But to you, my most munificent
and reverend patron, I will show all de secrets dat art can show--ay, de
secret of de great Pymander."

"That other ane," whispered Edie, "maun be, according to a' likelihood,
Sir Arthur Wardour--I ken naebody but himsell wad come here at this time
at e'en wi' that German blackguard;--ane wad think he's bewitched him--he
gars him e'en trow that chalk is cheese. Let's see what they can be
doing."

This interruption, and the low tone in which Sir Arthur spoke, made Lovel
lose all Sir Arthur's answer to the adept, excepting the last three
emphatic words, "Very great expense;" to which Dousterswivel at once
replied--"Expenses!--to be sure--dere must be de great expenses. You do
not expect to reap before you do sow de seed: de expense is de seed--de
riches and de mine of goot metal, and now de great big chests of plate,
they are de crop--vary goot crop too, on mine wort. Now, Sir Arthur, you
have sowed this night one little seed of ten guineas like one pinch of
snuff, or so big; and if you do not reap de great harvest--dat is, de
great harvest for de little pinch of seed, for it must be proportions,
you must know--then never call one honest man, Herman Dousterswivel. Now
you see, mine patron--for I will not conceal mine secret from you at all
--you see this little plate of silver; you know de moon measureth de
whole zodiack in de space of twenty-eight day--every shild knows dat.
Well, I take a silver plate when she is in her fifteenth mansion, which
mansion is in de head of _Libra,_ and I engrave upon one side de worts,
[Shedbarschemoth Schartachan]--dat is, de Emblems of de Intelligence of
de moon--and I make this picture like a flying serpent with a
turkey-cock's head--vary well. Then upon this side I make de table of de
moon, which is a square of nine, multiplied into itself, with eighty-one
numbers on every side, and diameter nine--dere it is done very proper.
Now I will make dis avail me at de change of every quarter-moon dat I
shall find by de same proportions of expenses I lay out in de
suffumigations, as nine, to de product of nine multiplied into
itself--But I shall find no more to-night as maybe two or dree times
nine, because dere is a thwarting power in de house of ascendency."

"But, Dousterswivel," said the simple Baronet, "does not this look like
magic?--I am a true though unworthy son of the Episcopal church, and I
will have nothing to do with the foul fiend."

"Bah! bah!--not a bit magic in it at all--not a bit--It is all founded on
de planetary influence, and de sympathy and force of numbers. I will show
you much finer dan dis. I do not say dere is not de spirit in it, because
of de suffumigation; but, if you are not afraid, he shall not be
invisible."

"I have no curiosity to see him at all," said the Baronet, whose courage
seemed, from a certain quaver in his accent, to have taken a fit of the
ague.

"Dat is great pity," said Dousterswivel; "I should have liked to show you
de spirit dat guard dis treasure like one fierce watchdog--but I know how
to manage him;--you would not care to see him?"

"Not at all," answered the Baronet, in a tone of feigned indifference; "I
think we have but little time."

"You shall pardon me, my patron; it is not yet twelve, and twelve precise
is just our planetary hours; and I could show you de spirit vary well, in
de meanwhile, just for pleasure. You see I would draw a pentagon within a
circle, which is no trouble at all, and make my suffumigation within it,
and dere we would be like in one strong castle, and you would hold de
sword while I did say de needful worts. Den you should see de solid wall
open like de gate of ane city, and den--let me see--ay, you should see
first one stag pursued by three black greyhounds, and they should pull
him down as they do at de elector's great hunting-match; and den one
ugly, little, nasty black negro should appear and take de stag from them
--and paf--all should be gone; den you should hear horns winded dat all
de ruins should ring--mine wort, they should play fine hunting piece, as
goot as him you call'd Fischer with his oboi; vary well--den comes one
herald, as we call Ernhold, winding his horn--and den come de great
Peolphan, called de mighty Hunter of de North, mounted on hims black
steed. But you would not care to see all this?"*

* Note F. Witchcraft.

 "Why, I am not afraid," answered the poor Baronet,--"if--that is--does
anything--any great mischiefs, happen on such occasions?"

"Bah! mischiefs? no!--sometimes if de circle be no quite just, or de
beholder be de frightened coward, and not hold de sword firm and straight
towards him, de Great Hunter will take his advantage, and drag him
exorcist out of de circle and throttle him. Dat does happens."

"Well then, Dousterswivel, with every confidence in my courage and your
skill, we will dispense with this apparition, and go on to the business
of the night."

"With all mine heart--it is just one thing to me--and now it is de time
--hold you de sword till I kindle de little what you call chip."

Dousterswivel accordingly set fire to a little pile of chips, touched and
prepared with some bituminous substance to make them burn fiercely; and
when the flame was at the highest, and lightened, with its shortlived
glare, all the ruins around, the German flung in a handful of perfumes
which produced a strong and pungent odour. The exorcist and his pupil
both were so much affected as to cough and sneeze heartily; and, as the
vapour floated around the pillars of the building, and penetrated every
crevice, it produced the same effect on the beggar and Lovel.

"Was that an echo?" said the Baronet, astonished at the sternutation
which resounded from above; "or"--drawing close to the adept, "can it be
the spirit you talked of, ridiculing our attempt upon his hidden
treasures?"

"N--n--no," muttered the German, who began to partake of his pupil's
terrors, "I hope not."

Here a violent of sneezing, which the mendicant was unable to suppress,
and which could not be considered by any means as the dying fall of an
echo, accompanied by a grunting half-smothered cough, confounded the two
treasure-seekers. "Lord have mercy on us!" said the Baronet.

"_Alle guten Geistern loben den Herrn!_" ejaculated the terrified adept.
"I was begun to think," he continued, after a moment's silence, "that
this would be de bestermost done in de day-light--we was bestermost to go
away just now."

"You juggling villain!" said the Baronet, in whom these expressions
awakened a suspicion that overcame his terrors, connected as it was with
the sense of desperation arising from the apprehension of impending ruin
--"you juggling mountebank! this is some legerdemain trick of yours to
get off from the performance of your promise, as you have so often done
before. But, before Heaven! I will this night know what I have trusted to
when I suffered you to fool me on to my ruin! Go on, then--come fairy,
come fiend, you shall show me that treasure, or confess yourself a knave
and an impostor, or, by the faith of a desperate and ruined man, I'll
send you where you shall see spirits enough."

The treasure-finder, trembling between his terror for the supernatural
beings by whom he supposed himself to be surrounded, and for his life,
which seemed to be at the mercy of a desperate man, could only bring out,
"Mine patron, this is not the allerbestmost usage. Consider, mine
honoured sir, that de spirits"--

Here Edie, who began to enter into the humour of the scene, uttered an
extraordinary howl, being an exaltation and a prolongation of the most
deplorable whine in which he was accustomed to solicit charity.

Dousterswivel flung himself on his knees--"Dear Sir Arthurs, let us go,
or let me go!"

"No, you cheating scoundrel!" said the knight, unsheathing the sword
which he had brought for the purposes of the exorcism, "that shift shall
not serve you--Monkbarns warned me long since of your juggling pranks--I
will see this treasure before you leave this place, or I will have you
confess yourself an impostor, or, by Heaven, I'll run this sword through
you, though all the spirits of the dead should rise around us!"

"For de lofe of Heaven be patient, mine honoured patron, and you shall
hafe all de treasure as I knows of--yes, you shall indeed--But do not
speak about de spirits--it makes dem angry."

Edie Ochiltree here prepared himself to throw in another groan, but was
restrained by Lovel, who began to take a more serious interest, as he
observed the earnest and almost desperate demeanour of Sir Arthur.
Dousterswivel, having at once before his eyes the fear of the foul fiend,
and the violence of Sir Arthur, played his part of a conjuror extremely
ill, hesitating to assume the degree of confidence necessary to deceive
the latter, lest it should give offence to the invisible cause of his
alarm. However, after rolling his eyes, muttering and sputtering German
exorcisms, with contortions of his face and person, rather flowing from
the impulse of terror than of meditated fraud, he at length proceeded to
a corner of the building where a flat stone lay upon the ground, bearing
upon its surface the effigy of an armed warrior in a recumbent posture
carved in bas-relief. He muttered to Sir Arthur, "Mine patrons, it is
here--Got save us all!"

Sir Arthur, who, after the first moment of his superstitious fear was
over, seemed to have bent up all his faculties to the pitch of resolution
necessary to carry on the adventure, lent the adept his assistance to
turn over the stone, which, by means of a lever that the adept had
provided, their joint force with difficulty effected. No supernatural
light burst forth from below to indicate the subterranean treasury, nor
was there any apparition of spirits, earthly or infernal. But when
Dousterswivel had, with great trepidation, struck a few strokes with a
mattock, and as hastily thrown out a shovelful or two of earth (for they
came provided with the tools necessary for digging), something was heard
to ring like the sound of a falling piece of metal, and Dousterswivel,
hastily catching up the substance which produced it, and which his shovel
had thrown out along with the earth, exclaimed, "On mine dear wort, mine
patrons, dis is all--it is indeed; I mean all we can do to-night;"--and
he gazed round him with a cowering and fearful glance, as if to see from
what comer the avenger of his imposture was to start forth.

"Let me see it," said Sir Arthur; and then repeated, still more sternly,
"I will be satisfied--I will judge by mine own eyes." He accordingly held
the object to the light of the lantern. It was a small case, or casket,
--for Lovel could not at the distance exactly discern its shape, which,
from the Baronet's exclamation as he opened it, he concluded was filled
with coin. "Ay," said the Baronet, "this is being indeed in good luck!
and if it omens proportional success upon a larger venture, the venture
shall be made. That six hundred of Goldieword's, added to the other
incumbent claims, must have been ruin indeed. If you think we can parry
it by repeating this experiment--suppose when the moon next changes,--I
will hazard the necessary advance, come by it how I may."

"Oh, mine good patrons, do not speak about all dat," said Dousterswivel,
"as just now, but help me to put de shtone to de rights, and let us
begone our own ways." And accordingly, so soon as the stone was replaced,
he hurried Sir Arthur, who was now resigned once more to his guidance,
away from a spot, where the German's guilty conscience and superstitious
fears represented goblins as lurking behind each pillar with the purpose
of punishing his treachery.

"Saw onybody e'er the like o' that!" said Edie, when they had disappeared
like shadows through the gate by which they had entered--"saw ony
creature living e'er the like o' that!--But what can we do for that puir
doited deevil of a knight-baronet? Od, he showed muckle mair spunk, too,
than I thought had been in him--I thought he wad hae sent cauld iron
through the vagabond--Sir Arthur wasna half sae bauld at Bessie's-apron
yon night--but then, his blood was up even now, and that makes an unco
difference. I hae seen mony a man wad hae felled another an anger him,
that wadna muckle hae liked a clink against Crummies-horn yon time. But
what's to be done?"

"I suppose," said Lovel, "his faith in this fellow is entirely restored
by this deception, which, unquestionably, he had arranged beforehand."