"Redeem mine hours--the space is brief--
                While in my glass the sand-grains shiver,
                   And measureless thy joy or grief,
                When Time and thou shalt part for ever!"

While the verses were yet singing, Lovel had returned to his bed; the
train of ideas which they awakened was romantic and pleasing, such as his
soul delighted in, and, willingly adjourning till more broad day the
doubtful task of determining on his future line of conduct, he abandoned
himself to the pleasing languor inspired by the music, and fell into a
sound and refreshing sleep, from which he was only awakened at a late
hour by old Caxon, who came creeping into the room to render the offices
of a valet-de-chambre.

"I have brushed your coat, sir," said the old man, when he perceived
Lovel was awake; "the callant brought it frae Fairport this morning, for
that ye had on yesterday is scantly feasibly dry, though it's been a'
night at the kitchen fire; and I hae cleaned your shoon. I doubt ye'll no
be wanting me to tie your hair, for" (with a gentle sigh) "a' the young
gentlemen wear crops now; but I hae the curling tangs here to gie it a
bit turn ower the brow, if ye like, before ye gae down to the leddies."

Lovel, who was by this time once more on his legs, declined the old man's
professional offices, but accompanied the refusal with such a douceur as
completely sweetened Caxon's mortification.

"It's a pity he disna get his hair tied and pouthered," said the ancient
friseur, when he had got once more into the kitchen, in which, on one
pretence or other, he spent three parts of his idle time--that is to say,
of his _whole_ time--"it's a great pity, for he's a comely young
gentleman."

"Hout awa, ye auld gowk," said Jenny Rintherout, "would ye creesh his
bonny brown hair wi' your nasty ulyie, and then moust it like the auld
minister's wig? Ye'll be for your breakfast, I'se warrant?--hae, there's
a soup parritch for ye--it will set ye better tae be slaistering at them
and the lapper-milk than meddling wi' Mr. Lovel's head--ye wad spoil the
maist natural and beautifaest head o' hair in a' Fairport, baith burgh
and county."

The poor barber sighed over the disrespect into which his art had so
universally fallen, but Jenny was a person too important to offend by
contradiction; so, sitting quietly down in the kitchen, he digested at
once his humiliation, and the contents of a bicker which held a Scotch
pint of substantial oatmeal porridge.



                            CHAPTER ELEVENTH.


            Sometimes he thinks that Heaven this pageant sent,
               And ordered all the pageants as they went;
             Sometimes that only 'twas wild Fancy's play,--
               The loose and scattered relics of the day.

We must now request our readers to adjourn to the breakfast parlour of
Mr. Oldbuck, who, despising the modern slops of tea and coffee, was
substantially regaling himself, _more majorum,_ with cold roast-beef, and
a glass of a sort of beverage called _mum_--a species of fat ale, brewed
from wheat and bitter herbs, of which the present generation only know
the name by its occurrence in revenue acts of parliament, coupled with
cider, perry, and other excisable commodities. Lovel, who was seduced to
taste it, with difficulty refrained from pronouncing it detestable, but
_did_ refrain, as he saw he should otherwise give great offence to his
host, who had the liquor annually prepared with peculiar care, according
to the approved recipe bequeathed to him by the so-often mentioned
Aldobrand Oldenbuck. The hospitality of the ladies offered Lovel a
breakfast more suited to modern taste, and while he was engaged in
partaking of it, he was assailed by indirect inquiries concerning the
manner in which he had passed the night.

"We canna compliment Mr. Lovel on his looks this morning, brother--but he
winna condescend on any ground of disturbance he has had in the night
time. I am certain he looks very pale, and when he came here he was as
fresh as a rose."

"Why, sister, consider this rose of yours has been knocked about by sea
and wind all yesterday evening, as if he had been a bunch of kelp or
tangle, and how the devil would you have him retain his colour?"

"I certainly do still feel somewhat fatigued," said Lovel,
"notwithstanding the excellent accommodations with which your hospitality
so amply supplied me."

"Ah, sir!" said Miss Oldbuck looking at him with a knowing smile, or what
was meant to be one, "ye'll not allow of ony inconvenience, out of
civility to us."

"Really, madam," replied Lovel, "I had no disturbance; for I cannot term
such the music with which some kind fairy favoured me."

"I doubted Mary wad waken you wi' her skreighing; she dinna ken I had
left open a chink of your window, for, forbye the ghaist, the Green Room
disna vent weel in a high wind--But I am judging ye heard mair than
Mary's lilts yestreen. Weel, men are hardy creatures--they can gae
through wi' a' thing. I am sure, had I been to undergo ony thing of that
nature,--that's to say that's beyond nature--I would hae skreigh'd out at
once, and raised the house, be the consequence what liket--and, I dare
say, the minister wad hae done as mickle, and sae I hae tauld him,--I ken
naebody but my brother, Monkbarns himsell, wad gae through the like o't,
if, indeed, it binna you, Mr. Lovel."

"A man of Mr. Oldbuck's learning, madam," answered the questioned party,
"would not be exposed to the inconvenience sustained by the Highland
gentleman you mentioned last night."

"Ay, ay--ye understand now where the difficulty lies. Language? he has
ways o' his ain wad banish a' thae sort o' worricows as far as the
hindermost parts of Gideon" (meaning possibly Midian), "as Mr.
Blattergowl says--only ane widna be uncivil to ane's forbear, though he
be a ghaist. I am sure I will try that receipt of yours, brother, that ye
showed me in a book, if onybody is to sleep in that room again, though I
think, in Christian charity, ye should rather fit up the matted-room
--it's a wee damp and dark, to be sure, but then we hae sae seldom
occasion for a spare bed."

"No, no, sister;--dampness and darkness are worse than spectres--ours are
spirits of light, and I would rather have you try the spell."

"I will do that blythely, Monkbarns, an I had the ingredients, as my
cookery book ca's them--There was _vervain_ and _dill_--I mind that
--Davie Dibble will ken about them, though, maybe, he'll gie them Latin
names--and Peppercorn, we hae walth o' them, for"--

"Hypericon, thou foolish woman!" thundered Oldbuck; "d'ye suppose you're
making a haggis--or do you think that a spirit, though he be formed of
air, can be expelled by a receipt against wind?--This wise Grizel of
mine, Mr. Lovel, recollects (with what accuracy you may judge) a charm
which I once mentioned to her, and which, happening to hit her
superstitious noddle, she remembers better than anything tending to a
useful purpose, I may chance to have said for this ten years. But many an
old woman besides herself"--

"Auld woman, Monkbarns!" said Miss Oldbuck, roused something above her
usual submissive tone; "ye really are less than civil to me."

"Not less than just, Grizel: however, I include in the same class many a
sounding name, from Jamblichus down to Aubrey, who have wasted their time
in devising imaginary remedies for non-existing diseases.--But I hope, my
young friend, that, charmed or uncharmed--secured by the potency of
Hypericon,

                      With vervain and with dill,
                      That hinder witches of their will,

or left disarmed and defenceless to the inroads of the invisible world,
you will give another night to the terrors of the haunted apartment, and
another day to your faithful and feal friends."

"I heartily wish I could, but"--

"Nay, but me no _buts_--I have set my heart upon it."

"I am greatly obliged, my dear sir, but"--

"Look ye there, now--_but_ again!--I hate _but;_ I know no form of
expression in which he can appear, that is amiable, excepting as a _butt_
of sack. But is to me a more detestable combination of letters than _no_
itself._No_ is a surly, honest fellow--speaks his mind rough and round at
once._But_ is a sneaking, evasive, half-bred, exceptuous sort of a
conjunction, which comes to pull away the cup just when it is at your
lips--

                             --it does allay
                The good precedent--fie upon _but yet!_
                _But yet_ is as a jailor to bring forth
                         Some monstrous malefactor."

"Well, then," answered Lovel, whose motions were really undetermined at
the moment, "you shall not connect the recollection of my name with so
churlish a particle. I must soon think of leaving Fairport, I am afraid
--and I will, since you are good enough to wish it, take this opportunity
of spending another day here."

"And you shall be rewarded, my boy. First, you shall see John o' the
Girnel's grave, and then we'll walk gently along the sands, the state of
the tide being first ascertained (for we will have no more Peter Wilkins'
adventures, no more Glum and Gawrie work), as far as Knockwinnock Castle,
and inquire after the old knight and my fair foe--which will but be
barely civil, and then"--

"I beg pardon, my dear sir; but, perhaps, you had better adjourn your
visit till to-morrow--I am a stranger, you know."

"And are, therefore, the more bound to show civility, I should suppose.
But I beg your pardon for mentioning a word that perhaps belongs only to
a collector of antiquities--I am one of the old school,


  When courtiers galloped o'er four counties
  The ball's fair partner to behold,
  And humbly hope she caught no cold."

"Why, if--if--if you thought it would be expected--but I believe I had
better stay."

"Nay, nay, my good friend, I am not so old-fashioned as to press you to
what is disagreeable, neither--it is sufficient that I see there is some
_remora,_ some cause of delay, some mid impediment, which I have no title
to inquire into. Or you are still somewhat tired, perhaps;--I warrant I
find means to entertain your intellects without fatiguing your limbs--I
am no friend to violent exertion myself--a walk in the garden once a-day
is exercise, enough for any thinking being--none but a fool or a
fox-hunter would require more. Well, what shall we set about?--my Essay
on Castrametation--but I have that in _petto_ for our afternoon cordial;
--or I will show you the controversy upon Ossian's Poems between
Mac-Cribb and me. I hold with the acute Orcadian--he with the defenders
of the authenticity;--the controversy began in smooth, oily, lady-like
terms, but is now waxing more sour and eager as we get on--it already
partakes somewhat of old Scaliger's style. I fear the rogue will get some
scent of that story of Ochiltree's--but at worst, I have a hard repartee
for him on the affair of the abstracted Antigonus--I will show you his
last epistle and the scroll of my answer--egad, it is a trimmer!"

So saying, the Antiquary opened a drawer, and began rummaging among a
quantity of miscellaneous papers, ancient and modern. But it was the
misfortune of this learned gentleman, as it may be that of many learned
and unlearned, that he frequently experienced, on such occasions, what
Harlequin calls _l'embarras des richesses;_ in other words, the abundance
of his collection often prevented him from finding the article he sought
for. "Curse the papers!--I believe," said Oldbuck, as he shuffled them to
and fro--"I believe they make themselves wings like grasshoppers, and fly
away bodily--but here, in the meanwhile, look at that little treasure."
So saying, he put into his hand a case made of oak, fenced at the corner
with silver roses and studs--"Pr'ythee, undo this button," said he, as he
observed Lovel fumbling at the clasp. He did so,--the lid opened, and
discovered a thin quarto, curiously bound in black shagreen--"There, Mr.
Lovel--there is the work I mentioned to you last night--the rare quarto
of the Augsburg Confession, the foundation at once and the bulwark of the
Reformation drawn up by the learned and venerable Melancthon, defended by
the Elector of Saxony, and the other valiant hearts who stood up for
their faith, even against the front of a powerful and victorious emperor,
and imprinted by the scarcely less venerable and praiseworthy Aldobrand
Oldenbuck, my happy progenitor, during the yet more tyrannical attempts
of Philip II. to suppress at once civil and religious liberty. Yes, sir
--for printing this work, that eminent man was expelled from his
ungrateful country, and driven to establish his household gods even here
at Monkbarns, among the ruins of papal superstition and domination.
--Look upon his venerable effigies, Mr. Lovel, and respect the honourable
occupation in which it presents him, as labouring personally at the
press for the diffusion of Christian and political knowledge.--And see
here his favourite motto, expressive of his independence and
self-reliance, which scorned to owe anything to patronage that was not
earned by desert--expressive also of that firmness of mind and tenacity
of purpose recommended by Horace. He was indeed a man who would have
stood firm, had his whole printing-house, presses, fonts, forms, great
and small pica, been shivered to pieces around him--Read, I say, his
motto, --for each printer had his motto, or device, when that
illustrious art was first practised. My ancestor's was expressed, as you
see, in the Teutonic phrase, Kunst macht Gunst--that is, skill, or
prudence, in availing ourselves of our natural talents and advantages,
will compel favour and patronage, even where it is withheld from
prejudice or ignorance."

"And that," said Lovel, after a moment's thoughtful silence--"that, then,
is the meaning of these German words?"

"Unquestionably. You perceive the appropriate application to a
consciousness of inward worth, and of eminence in a useful and honourable
art.--Each printer in those days, as I have already informed you, had his
device, his impresa, as I may call it, in the same manner as the doughty
chivalry of the age, who frequented tilt and tournament. My ancestor
boasted as much in his, as if he had displayed it over a conquered field
of battle, though it betokened the diffusion of knowledge, not the
effusion of blood. And yet there is a family tradition which affirms him
to have chosen it from a more romantic circumstance."

"And what is that said to have been, my good sir?" inquired his young
friend.

"Why, it rather encroaches on my respected predecessor's fame for
prudence and wisdom--_Sed semel insanivimus omnes_--everybody has played
the fool in their turn. It is said, my ancestor, during his
apprenticeship with the descendant of old Faust, whom popular tradition
hath sent to the devil under the name of Faustus, was attracted by a
paltry slip of womankind, his master's daughter, called Bertha--they
broke rings, or went through some idiotical ceremony, as is usual on such
idle occasions as the plighting of a true-love troth, and Aldobrand set
out on his journey through Germany, as became an honest _hand-werker;_
for such was the custom of mechanics at that time, to make a tour through
the empire, and work at their trade for a time in each of the most
eminent towns, before they finally settled themselves for life. It was a
wise custom; for, as such travellers were received like brethren in each
town by those of their own handicraft, they were sure, in every case, to
have the means either of gaining or communicating knowledge. When my
ancestor returned to Nuremburg, he is said to have found his old master
newly dead, and two or three gallant young suitors, some of them
half-starved sprigs of nobility forsooth, in pursuit of the _Yung-fraw_
Bertha, whose father was understood to have bequeathed her a dowry which
might weigh against sixteen armorial quarters. But Bertha, not a bad
sample of womankind, had made a vow she would only marry that man who
would work her father's press. The skill, at that time, was as rare as
wonderful; besides that the expedient rid her at once of most of her
_gentle_ suitors, who would have as soon wielded a conjuring wand as a
composing stick. Some of the more ordinary typographers made the attempt:
but none were sufficiently possessed of the mystery--But I tire you."

"By no means; pray, proceed, Mr. Oldbuck--I listen with uncommon
interest."

"Ah! it is all folly. However--Aldobrand arrived in the ordinary dress,
as we would say, of a journeyman printer--the same in which he had
traversed Germany, and conversed with Luther, Melancthon, Erasmus, and
other learned men, who disdained not his knowledge, and the power he
possessed of diffusing it, though hid under a garb so homely. But what
appeared respectable in the eyes of wisdom, religion, learning, and
philosophy, seemed mean, as might readily be supposed, and disgusting, in
those of silly and affected womankind, and Bertha refused to acknowledge
her former lover, in the torn doublet, skin cap, clouted shoes, and
leathern apron, of a travelling handicraftsman or mechanic. He claimed
his privilege, however, of being admitted to a trial; and when the rest
of the suitors had either declined the contest, or made such work as the
devil could not read if his pardon depended on it, all eyes were bent on
the stranger. Aldobrand stepped gracefully forward, arranged the types
without omission of a single letter, hyphen, or comma, imposed them
without deranging a single space, and pulled off the first proof as clear
and free from errors, as if it had been a triple revise! All applauded
the worthy successor of the immortal Faustus--the blushing maiden
acknowledged her error in trusting to the eye more than the intellect
--and the elected bridegroom thenceforward chose for his impress or device
the appropriate words, _Skill wins favour._'--But what is the matter with
you?--you are in a brown study! Come, I told you this was but trumpery
conversation for thinking people--and now I have my hand on the Ossianic
Controversy."

"I beg your pardon," said Lovel; "I am going to appear very silly and
changeable in your eyes, Mr. Oldbuck--but you seemed to think Sir Arthur
might in civility expect a call from me?"

"Psha! psha! I can make your apology; and if you must leave us so soon as
you say, what signifies how you stand in his honours good graces?--And I
warn you that the Essay on Castrametation is something prolix, and will
occupy the time we can spare after dinner, so you may lose the Ossianic
Controversy if we do not dedicate this morning to it. We will go out to
my ever-green bower, my sacred holly-tree yonder, and have it _fronde
super viridi._

               Sing heigh-ho! heigh-ho! for the green holly,
         Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

But, egad," continued the old gentleman, "when I look closer at you, I
begin to think you may be of a different opinion. Amen with all my heart
--I quarrel with no man's hobby, if he does not run it a tilt against
mine, and if he does--let him beware his eyes. What say you?--in the
language of the world and worldlings base, if you can condescend to so
mean a sphere, shall we stay or go?"

"In the language of selfishness, then, which is of course the language of
the world--let us go by all means."

"Amen, amen, quo' the Earl Marshall," answered Oldbuck, as he exchanged
his slippers for a pair of stout walking shoes, with _cutikins,_ as he
called them, of black cloth. He only interrupted the walk by a slight
deviation to the tomb of John o' the Girnel, remembered as the last
bailiff of the abbey who had resided at Monkbarns. Beneath an old
oak-tree upon a hillock, sloping pleasantly to the south, and catching a
distant view of the sea over two or three rich enclosures, and the
Mussel-crag, lay a moss-grown stone, and, in memory of the departed
worthy, it bore an inscription, of which, as Mr. Oldbuck affirmed (though
many doubted), the defaced characters could be distinctly traced to the
following effect:--

                    Here lyeth John o' ye Girnell;
                Erth has ye nit, and heuen ye kirnell.
                 In hys tyme ilk wyfe's hennis clokit,
             Ilka gud mannis herth wi' bairnis was stokit.
              He deled a boll o' bear in firlottis fyve,
        Four for ye halie kirke, and ane for puir mennis wyvis.

"You see how modest the author of this sepulchral commendation was;--he
tells us that honest John could make five firlots, or quarters, as you
would say, out of the boll, instead of four,--that he gave the fifth to
the wives of the parish, and accounted for the other four to the abbot
and chapter--that in his time the wives' hens always laid eggs--and devil
thank them, if they got one-fifth of the abbey rents; and that honest
men's hearths were never unblest with offspring--an addition to the
miracle, which they, as well as I, must have considered as perfectly
unaccountable. But come on--leave we Jock o' the Girnel, and let us jog
on to the yellow sands, where the sea, like a repulsed enemy, is now
retreating from the ground on which he gave us battle last night."

Thus saying, he led the way to the sands. Upon the links or downs close
to them, were seen four or five huts inhabited by fishers, whose boats,
drawn high upon the beach, lent the odoriferous vapours of pitch melting
under a burning sun, to contend with those of the offals of fish and
other nuisances usually collected round Scottish cottages. Undisturbed by
these complicated steams of abomination, a middle-aged woman, with a face
which had defied a thousand storms, sat mending a net at the door of one
of the cottages. A handkerchief close bound about her head, and a coat
which had formerly been that of a man, gave her a masculine air, which
was increased by her strength, uncommon stature, and harsh voice. "What
are ye for the day, your honour?" she said, or rather screamed, to
Oldbuck; "caller haddocks and whitings--a bannock-fluke and a
cock-padle."

"How much for the bannock-fluke and cock-padle?" demanded the Antiquary.

"Four white shillings and saxpence," answered the Naiad.

"Four devils and six of their imps!" retorted the Antiquary; "do you
think I am mad, Maggie?"

"And div ye think," rejoined the virago, setting her arms akimbo, "that
my man and my sons are to gae to the sea in weather like yestreen and the
day--sic a sea as it's yet outby--and get naething for their fish, and be
misca'd into the bargain, Monkbarns? It's no fish ye're buying--it's
men's lives."

"Well, Maggie, I'll bid you fair--I'll bid you a shilling for the fluke
and the cock-padle, or sixpence separately--and if all your fish are as
well paid, I think your man, as you call him, and your sons, will make a
good voyage."

"Deil gin their boat were knockit against the Bell-Rock rather! it wad be
better, and the bonnier voyage o' the twa. A shilling for thae twa bonnie
fish! Od, that's ane indeed!"

"Well, well, you old beldam, carry your fish up to Monkbarns, and see
what my sister will give you for them."

"Na, na, Monkbarns, deil a fit--I'll rather deal wi' yoursell; for though
you're near enough, yet Miss Grizel has an unco close grip--I'll gie ye
them" (in a softened tone) "for three-and-saxpence."

"Eighteen-pence, or nothing!"

"Eighteen-pence!!!" (in a loud tone of astonishment, which declined into
a sort of rueful whine, when the dealer turned as if to walk away)--"Yell
no be for the fish then?"--(then louder, as she saw him moving off)
--"I'll gie ye them--and--and--and a half-a-dozen o' partans to make the
sauce, for three shillings and a dram."

"Half-a-crown then, Maggie, and a dram."

"Aweel, your honour maun hae't your ain gate, nae doubt; but a dram's
worth siller now--the distilleries is no working."

"And I hope they'll never work again in my time," said Oldbuck.

"Ay, ay--it's easy for your honour, and the like o' you gentle-folks to
say sae, that hae stouth and routh, and fire and fending and meat and
claith, and sit dry and canny by the fireside--but an ye wanted fire, and
meat, and dry claes, and were deeing o' cauld, and had a sair heart,
whilk is warst ava', wi' just tippence in your pouch, wadna ye be glad to
buy a dram wi't, to be eilding and claes, and a supper and heart's ease
into the bargain, till the morn's morning?"

"It's even too true an apology, Maggie. Is your goodman off to sea this
morning, after his exertions last night?"

"In troth is he, Monkbarns; he was awa this morning by four o'clock, when
the sea was working like barm wi' yestreen's wind, and our bit coble
dancing in't like a cork."

"Well, he's an industrious fellow. Carry the fish up to Monkbarns."

"That I will--or I'll send little Jenny, she'll rin faster; but I'll ca'
on Miss Grizzy for the dram mysell, and say ye sent me."

A nondescript animal, which might have passed for a mermaid, as it was
paddling in a pool among the rocks, was summoned ashore by the shrill
screams of its dam; and having been made decent, as her mother called it,
which was performed by adding a short red cloak to a petticoat, which was
at first her sole covering, and which reached scantily below her knee,
the child was dismissed with the fish in a basket, and a request on the
part of Monkbarns that they might be prepared for dinner. "It would have
been long," said Oldbuck, with much self-complacency, "ere my womankind
could have made such a reasonable bargain with that old skin-flint,
though they sometimes wrangle with her for an hour together under my
study window, like three sea-gulls screaming and sputtering in a gale of
wind. But come, wend we on our way to Knockwinnock."




                            CHAPTER TWELFTH.


              Beggar?--the only freeman of your commonwealth;
              Free above Scot-free, that observe no laws,
                   Obey no governor, use no religion
           But what they draw from their own ancient custom,
           Or constitute themselves, yet they are no rebels.
                                            Brome.

With our reader's permission, we will outstep the slow, though sturdy
pace of the Antiquary, whose halts, as he, turned round to his companion
at every moment to point out something remarkable in the landscape, or to
enforce some favourite topic more emphatically than the exercise of
walking permitted, delayed their progress considerably.

Notwithstanding the fatigues and dangers of the preceding evening, Miss
Wardour was able to rise at her usual hour, and to apply herself to her
usual occupations, after she had first satisfied her anxiety concerning
her father's state of health. Sir Arthur was no farther indisposed than
by the effects of great agitation and unusual fatigue, but these were
sufficient to induce him to keep his bedchamber.

To look back on the events of the preceding day, was, to Isabella, a very
unpleasing retrospect. She owed her life, and that of her father, to the
very person by whom, of all others, she wished least to be obliged,
because she could hardly even express common gratitude towards him
without encouraging hopes which might be injurious to them both. "Why
should it be my fate to receive such benefits, and conferred at so much
personal risk, from one whose romantic passion I have so unceasingly
laboured to discourage? Why should chance have given him this advantage
over me? and why, oh why, should a half-subdued feeling in my own bosom,
in spite of my sober reason, almost rejoice that he has attained it?"

While Miss Wardour thus taxed herself with wayward caprice, she, beheld
advancing down the avenue, not her younger and more dreaded preserver,
but the old beggar who had made such a capital figure in the melodrama of
the preceding evening.

She rang the bell for her maid-servant. "Bring the old man up stairs."

The servant returned in a minute or two--"He will come up at no rate,
madam;--he says his clouted shoes never were on a carpet in his life, and
that, please God, they never shall.--Must I take him into the servants'
hall?"

"No; stay, I want to speak with him--Where is he?" for she had lost sight
of him as he approached the house.

"Sitting in the sun on the stone-bench in the court, beside the window of
the flagged parlour."

"Bid him stay there--I'll come down to the parlour, and speak with him at
the window."

She came down accordingly, and found the mendicant half-seated,
half-reclining, upon the bench beside the window. Edie Ochiltree, old man
and beggar as he was, had apparently some internal consciousness of the
favourable, impressions connected with his tall form, commanding
features, and long white beard and hair. It used to be remarked of him,
that he was seldom seen but in a posture which showed these personal
attributes to advantage. At present, as he lay half-reclined, with his
wrinkled yet ruddy cheek, and keen grey eye turned up towards the sky,
his staff and bag laid beside him, and a cast of homely wisdom and
sarcastic irony in the expression of his countenance, while he gazed for
a moment around the court-yard, and then resumed his former look upward,
he might have been taken by an artist as the model of an old philosopher
of the Cynic school, musing upon the frivolity of mortal pursuits, and
the precarious tenure of human possessions, and looking up to the source
from which aught permanently good can alone be derived. The young lady,
as she presented her tall and elegant figure at the open window, but
divided from the court-yard by a grating, with which, according to the
fashion of ancient times, the lower windows of the castle were secured,
gave an interest of a different kind, and might be supposed, by a
romantic imagination, an imprisoned damsel communicating a tale of her
durance to a palmer, in order that he might call upon the gallantry of
every knight whom he should meet in his wanderings, to rescue her from
her oppressive thraldom.

After Miss Wardour had offered, in the terms she thought would be most
acceptable, those thanks which the beggar declined as far beyond his
merit, she began to express herself in a manner which she supposed would
speak more feelingly to his apprehension. "She did not know," she said,
"what her father intended particularly to do for their preserver, but
certainly it would be something that would make him easy for life; if he
chose to reside at the castle, she would give orders"--

The old man smiled, and shook his head. "I wad be baith a grievance and a
disgrace to your fine servants, my leddy, and I have never been a
disgrace to onybody yet, that I ken of."

"Sir Arthur would give strict orders"--

"Ye're very kind--I doubtna, I doubtna; but there are some things a
master can command, and some he canna--I daresay he wad gar them keep
hands aff me--(and troth, I think they wad hardly venture on that ony
gate)--and he wad gar them gie me my soup parritch and bit meat. But trow
ye that Sir Arthur's command could forbid the gibe o' the tongue or the
blink o' the ee, or gar them gie me my food wi' the look o' kindness that
gars it digest sae weel, or that he could make them forbear a' the
slights and taunts that hurt ane's spirit mair nor downright misca'ing?
--Besides, I am the idlest auld carle that ever lived; I downa be bound
down to hours o' eating and sleeping; and, to speak the honest truth, I
wad be a very bad example in ony weel regulated family."

"Well, then, Edie, what do you think of a neat cottage and a garden, and
a daily dole, and nothing to do but to dig a little in your garden when
you pleased yourself?"

"And how often wad that be, trow ye, my leddy? maybe no ance atween
Candlemas and Yule and if a' thing were done to my hand, as if I was Sir
Arthur himsell, I could never bide the staying still in ae place, and
just seeing the same joists and couples aboon my head night after
night.--And then I have a queer humour o' my ain, that sets a strolling
beggar weel eneugh, whase word naebody minds--but ye ken Sir Arthur has
odd sort o' ways--and I wad be jesting or scorning at them--and ye wad
be angry, and then I wad be just fit to hang mysell."

"O, you are a licensed man," said Isabella; "we shall give you all
reasonable scope: So you had better be ruled, and remember your age."

"But I am no that sair failed yet," replied the mendicant. "Od, ance I
gat a wee soupled yestreen, I was as yauld as an eel. And then what wad
a' the country about do for want o' auld Edie Ochiltree, that brings news
and country cracks frae ae farm-steading to anither, and gingerbread to
the lasses, and helps the lads to mend their fiddles, and the gudewives
to clout their pans, and plaits rush-swords and grenadier caps for the
weans, and busks the laird's flees, and has skill o' cow-ills and
horse-ills, and kens mair auld sangs and tales than a' the barony
besides, and gars ilka body laugh wherever he comes? Troth, my leddy, I
canna lay down my vocation; it would be a public loss."

"Well, Edie, if your idea of your importance is so strong as not to be
shaken by the prospect of independence"--

"Na, na, Miss--it's because I am mair independent as I am," answered the
old man; "I beg nae mair at ony single house than a meal o' meat, or
maybe but a mouthfou o't--if it's refused at ae place, I get it at
anither--sae I canna be said to depend on onybody in particular, but just
on the country at large."

"Well, then, only promise me that you will let me know should you ever
wish to settle as you turn old, and more incapable of making your usual
rounds; and, in the meantime, take this."

"Na, na, my leddy: I downa take muckle siller at ance--it's against our
rule; and--though it's maybe no civil to be repeating the like o' that
--they say that siller's like to be scarce wi' Sir Arthur himsell, and
that he's run himsell out o' thought wi' his honkings and minings for
lead and copper yonder."

Isabella had some anxious anticipations to the same effect, but was
shocked to hear that her father's embarrassments were such public talk;
as if scandal ever failed to stoop upon so acceptable a quarry as the
failings of the good man, the decline of the powerful, or the decay of
the prosperous.--Miss Wardour sighed deeply--"Well, Edie, we have enough
to pay our debts, let folks say what they will, and requiting you is one
of the foremost--let me press this sum upon you."

"That I might be robbed and murdered some night between town and town?
or, what's as bad, that I might live in constant apprehension o't?--I am
no"--(lowering his voice to a whisper, and looking keenly around him)--"I
am no that clean unprovided for neither; and though I should die at the
back of a dyke, they'll find as muckle quilted in this auld blue gown as
will bury me like a Christian, and gie the lads and lasses a blythe
lykewake too; sae there's the gaberlunzie's burial provided for, and I
need nae mair. Were the like o' me ever to change a note, wha the deil
d'ye think wad be sic fules as to gie me charity after that?--it wad flee
through the country like wildfire, that auld Edie suld hae done siccan a
like thing, and then, I'se warrant, I might grane my heart out or onybody
wad gie me either a bane or a bodle."

"Is there nothing, then, that I can do for you?"

"Ou ay--I'll aye come for my awmous as usual,--and whiles I wad be fain
o' a pickle sneeshin, and ye maun speak to the constable and
ground-officer just to owerlook me; and maybe ye'll gie a gude word for
me to Sandie Netherstanes, the miller, that he may chain up his muckle
dog--I wadna hae him to hurt the puir beast, for it just does its office
in barking at a gaberlunzie like me. And there's ae thing maybe mair,
--but ye'll think it's very bald o' the like o' me to speak o't."

"What is it, Edie?--if it respects you it shall be done if it is in my
power."

"It respects yoursell, and it is in your power, and I maun come out wi't.
Ye are a bonny young leddy, and a gude ane, and maybe a weel-tochered
ane--but dinna ye sneer awa the lad Lovel, as ye did a while sinsyne on
the walk beneath the Briery-bank, when I saw ye baith, and heard ye too,
though ye saw nae me. Be canny wi' the lad, for he loes ye weel, and it's
to him, and no to anything I could have done for you, that Sir Arthur and
you wan ower yestreen."

He uttered these words in a low but distinct tone of voice; and without
waiting for an answer, walked towards a low door which led to the
apartments of the servants, and so entered the house.

Miss Wardour remained for a moment or two in the situation in which she
had heard the old man's last extraordinary speech, leaning, namely,
against the bars of the window; nor could she determine upon saying even
a single word, relative to a subject so delicate, until the beggar was
out of sight. It was, indeed, difficult to determine what to do. That her
having had an interview and private conversation with this young and
unknown stranger, should be a secret possessed by a person of the last
class in which a young lady would seek a confidant, and at the mercy of
one who was by profession gossip-general to the whole neighbourhood, gave
her acute agony. She had no reason, indeed, to suppose that the old man
would wilfully do anything to hurt her feelings, much less to injure her;
but the mere freedom of speaking to her upon such a subject, showed, as
might have been expected, a total absence of delicacy; and what he might
take it into his head to do or say next, that she was pretty sure so
professed an admirer of liberty would not hesitate to do or say without
scruple. This idea so much hurt and vexed her, that she half-wished the
officious assistance of Lovel and Ochiltree had been absent upon the
preceding evening.

While she was in this agitation of spirits, she suddenly observed Oldbuck
and Lovel entering the court. She drew instantly so far back from the
window, that she could without being seen, observe how the Antiquary
paused in front of the building, and pointing to the various scutcheons
of its former owners, seemed in the act of bestowing upon Lovel much
curious and erudite information, which, from the absent look of his
auditor, Isabella might shrewdly guess was entirely thrown away. The
necessity that she should take some resolution became instant and
pressing;--she rang, therefore, for a servant, and ordered him to show
the visitors to the drawing-room, while she, by another staircase, gained
her own apartment, to consider, ere she made her appearance, what line of
conduct were fittest for her to pursue. The guests, agreeably to her
instructions, were introduced into the room where company was usually
received.




                           CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.


                     --The time was that I hated thee,
                And yet it is not that I bear thee love.
                Thy company, which erst was irksome to me,
                            I will endure--
                But do not look for further recompense.
                                        As You Like It.

Miss Isabella Wardour's complexion was considerably heightened, when,
after the delay necessary to arrange her ideas, she presented herself in
the drawing-room.

"I am glad you are come, my fair foe," said the Antiquary greeting her
with much kindness, "for I have had a most refractory, or at least
negligent auditor, in my young friend here, while I endeavoured to make
him acquainted with the history of Knockwinnock Castle. I think the
danger of last night has mazed the poor lad. But you, Miss Isabel,--why,
you look as if flying through the night air had been your natural and
most congenial occupation; your colour is even better than when you
honoured my _hospitium_ yesterday. And Sir Arthur--how fares my good old
friend?"

"Indifferently well, Mr. Oldbuck; but I am afraid, not quite able to
receive your congratulations, or to pay--to pay--Mr. Lovel his thanks for
his unparalleled exertions."

"I dare say not--A good down pillow for his good white head were more
meet than a couch so churlish as Bessy's-apron, plague on her!"

"I had no thought of intruding," said Lovel, looking upon the ground, and
speaking with hesitation and suppressed emotion; "I did not--did not mean
to intrude upon Sir Arthur or Miss Wardour the presence of one who--who
must necessarily be unwelcome--as associated, I mean, with painful
reflections."

"Do not think my father so unjust and ungrateful," said Miss Wardour. "I
dare say," she continued, participating in Lovel's embarrassment--"I dare
say--I am certain--that my father would be happy to show his gratitude
--in any way--that is, which Mr. Lovel could consider it as proper to
point out."

"Why the deuce," interrupted Oldbuck, "what sort of a qualification is
that?--On my word, it reminds me of our minister, who, choosing, like a
formal old fop as he is, to drink to my sister's inclinations, thought it
necessary to add the saving clause, Provided, madam, they be virtuous.
Come, let us have no more of this nonsense--I dare say Sir Arthur will
bid us welcome on some future day. And what news from the kingdom of
subterranean darkness and airy hope?--What says the swart spirit of the
mine? Has Sir Arthur had any good intelligence of his adventure lately in
Glen-Withershins?"

Miss Wardour shook her head--"But indifferent, I fear, Mr. Oldbuck; but
there lie some specimens which have lately been sent down."

"Ah! my poor dear hundred pounds, which Sir Arthur persuaded me to give
for a share in that hopeful scheme, would have bought a porter's load of
mineralogy--But let me see them."

And so saying, he sat down at the table in the recess, on which the
mineral productions were lying, and proceeded to examine them, grumbling
and pshawing at each which he took up and laid aside.

In the meantime, Lovel, forced as it were by this secession of Oldbuck,
into a sort of tete-a'-tete with Miss Wardour, took an opportunity of
addressing her in a low and interrupted tone of voice. "I trust Miss
Wardour will impute, to circumstances almost irresistible, this intrusion
of a person who has reason to think himself--so unacceptable a visitor."

"Mr. Lovel," answered Miss Wardour, observing the same tone of caution,
"I trust you will not--I am sure you are incapable of abusing the
advantages given to you by the services you have rendered us, which, as
they affect my father, can never be sufficiently acknowledged or repaid.
Could Mr. Lovel see me without his own peace being affected--could he see
me as a friend--as a sister--no man will be--and, from all I have ever
heard of Mr. Lovel, ought to be, more welcome but"--

Oldbuck's anathema against the preposition _but_ was internally echoed by
Lovel. "Forgive me if I interrupt you, Miss Wardour; you need not fear my
intruding upon a subject where I have been already severely repressed;
--but do not add to the severity of repelling my sentiments the rigour of
obliging me to disavow them."

"I am much embarrassed, Mr. Lovel," replied the young lady, "by your--I
would not willingly use a strong word--your romantic and hopeless
pertinacity. It is for yourself I plead, that you would consider the
calls which your country has upon your talents--that you will not waste,
in an idle and fanciful indulgence of an ill-placed predilection, time,
which, well redeemed by active exertion, should lay the foundation of
future distinction. Let me entreat that you would form a manly
resolution"--

"It is enough, Miss Wardour;--I see plainly that"--

"Mr. Lovel, you are hurt--and, believe me, I sympathize in the pain which
I inflict; but can I, in justice to myself, in fairness to you, do
otherwise? Without my father's consent, I never will entertain the
addresses of any one, and how totally impossible it is that he should
countenance the partiality with which you honour me, you are yourself
fully aware; and, indeed"--

"No, Miss Wardour," answered Lovel, in a tone of passionate entreaty; "do
not go farther--is it not enough to crush every hope in our present
relative situation?--do not carry your resolutions farther--why urge what
would be your conduct if Sir Arthur's objections could be removed?"

"It is indeed vain, Mr. Lovel," said Miss Wardour, "because their removal
is impossible; and I only wish, as your friend, and as one who is obliged
to you for her own and her father's life, to entreat you to suppress this
unfortunate attachment--to leave a country which affords no scope for
your talents, and to resume the honourable line of the profession which
you seem to have abandoned."

"Well, Miss Wardour, your wishes shall be obeyed;--have patience with me
one little month, and if, in the course of that space, I cannot show you
such reasons for continuing my residence at Fairport, as even you shall
approve of, I will bid adieu to its vicinity, and, with the same breath,
to all my hopes of happiness."

"Not so, Mr. Lovel; many years of deserved happiness, founded on a more
rational basis than your present wishes, are, I trust, before, you. But
it is full time, to finish this conversation. I cannot force you to adopt
my advice--I cannot shut the door of my father's house against the
preserver of his life and mine; but the sooner Mr. Lovel can teach his
mind to submit to the inevitable disappointment of wishes which have been
so rashly formed, the more highly be will rise in my esteem--and, in the
meanwhile, for his sake as well as mine, he must excuse my putting an
interdict upon conversation on a subject so painful."

A servant at this moment announced that Sir Arthur desired to speak to
Mr. Oldbuck in his dressing-room.

"Let me show you the way," said Miss Wardour, who apparently dreaded a
continuation of her tete-a-tete with Lovel, and she conducted the
Antiquary accordingly to her father's apartment.

Sir Arthur, his legs swathed in flannel, was stretched on the couch.
"Welcome, Mr. Oldbuck," he said; "I trust you have come better off than
I have done from the inclemency of yesterday evening?"

"Truly, Sir Arthur, I was not so much exposed to it--I kept _terra
firma_--you fairly committed yourself to the cold night-air in the most
literal of all senses. But such adventures become a gallant knight better
than a humble esquire,--to rise on the wings of the night-wind--to dive
into the bowels of the earth. What news from our subterranean Good Hope!
--the _terra incognita_ of Glen-Withershins?"

"Nothing good as yet," said the Baronet, turning himself hastily, as if
stung by a pang of the gout; "but Dousterswivel does not despair."

"Does he not?" quoth Oldbuck; "I do though, under his favour. Why, old
Dr. H--n* told me, when I was in Edinburgh, that we should never find
copper enough, judging from the specimens I showed him, to make a pair of
sixpenny knee-buckles--and I cannot see that those samples on the table
below differ much in quality."

* Probably Dr. Hutton, the celebrated geologist.

"The learned doctor is not infallible, I presume?"

"No; but he is one of our first chemists; and this tramping philosopher
of yours--this Dousterswivel--is, I have a notion, one, of those learned
adventurers described by Kirchner, _Artem habent sine arte, partem sine
parte, quorum medium est mentiri, vita eorum mendicatum ire;_ that is to
say, Miss Wardour"--

"It is unnecessary to translate," said Miss Wardour--"I comprehend your
general meaning; but I hope Mr. Dousterswivel will turn out a more
trustworthy character."

"I doubt it not a little," said the Antiquary,--"and we are a foul way
out if we cannot discover this infernal vein that he has prophesied about
these two years."

"_You_ have no great interest in the matter, Mr. Oldbuck," said the
Baronet.

"Too much, too much, Sir Arthur; and yet, for the sake of my fair foe
here, I would consent to lose it all so you had no more on the venture."

There was a painful silence of a few moments, for Sir Arthur was too
proud to acknowledge the downfall of his golden dreams, though he could
no longer disguise to himself that such was likely to be the termination
of the adventure. "I understand," he at length said, "that the young
gentleman, to whose gallantry and presence of mind we were so much
indebted last night, has favoured me with a visit--I am distressed that I
am unable to see him, or indeed any one, but an old friend like you, Mr.
Oldbuck."

A declination of the Antiquary's stiff backbone acknowledged the
preference.

"You made acquaintance with this young gentleman in Edinburgh, I
suppose?"

Oldbuck told the circumstances of their becoming known to each other.

"Why, then, my daughter is an older acquaintance, of Mr. Lovel than you
are," said the Baronet.

"Indeed! I was not aware of that," answered Oldbuck somewhat surprised.

"I met Mr. Lovel," said Isabella, slightly colouring, "when I resided
this last spring with my aunt, Mrs. Wilmot."

"In Yorkshire?--and what character did he bear then, or how was he
engaged?" said Oldbuck,--"and why did not you recognise him when I
introduced you?"

Isabella answered the least difficult question, and passed over the
other--"He had a commission in the army, and had, I believe, served with
reputation; he was much respected, as an amiable and promising young
man."

"And pray, such being the case," replied the Antiquary, not disposed to
take one reply in answer to two distinct questions, "why did you not
speak to the lad at once when you met him at my house? I thought you had
less of the paltry pride of womankind about you, Miss Wardour."

"There was a reason for it," said Sir Arthur with dignity; "you know the
opinions--prejudices, perhaps you will call them--of our house concerning
purity of birth. This young gentleman is, it seems, the illegitimate son
of a man of fortune; my daughter did not choose to renew their
acquaintance till she should know whether I approved of her holding any
intercourse with him."

"If it had been with his mother instead of himself," answered Oldbuck,
with his usual dry causticity of humour, "I could see an excellent reason
for it. Ah, poor lad! that was the cause, then, that he seemed so absent
and confused while I explained to him the reason of the bend of bastardy
upon the shield yonder under the corner turret!"