very fasting a kind of luxury and abomination; and then the awfu' masses and matins of the puir deceived souls-but I shouldna speak about them, for your honour will be a Roman, I'se warrant, lik the lave.'

"Not I, my friend; I was bred an English presbyterian, or a dissenter.'

"The right hand of fellowship to your honour, then,' quoth the gardener, with as much alacrity as his hard features were capable of expressing, and, as if to shew that his good will did not rest on words, he plucked forth a huge horn snuff-box, or mull, as he called it, and proffered me a pinch with a most fraternal grin.

"Having accepted his courtesy, I asked him if he had been long a domestic at Osbaldistone Hall?

"I have been fighting with wild beasts at Ephesus,' said he, looking towards the building," for the best part of these four and twenty years, as sure as my name's Andrew Fairservice.'

"But, my excellent friend, Andrew Fairservice, if your religion and your temperance are so much offended by Roman rituals and southern hospitality, it seems to me that you must have been putting yourself to an unnecessary penance all this while, and that you might have found a service where they eat less, and are more orthodox in their worship. I dare say it cannot be want of skill which prevented your being placed more to your satisfaction.'

"It doesna become me to speak to the point of my qualifications,' said Andrew, looking round him with great complacency: but nae doubt I should understand my trade of horticulture, seeing I was bred in the parish of Dreepdaly, where they raise lang-kale under glass, and force the early nettles for their spring kale.-And, to speak truth, I hae been flitting every term these four and twenty years; but when the time comes, there's aye something to saw that I would like to see sawn, or something to maw that I would like to see mawn,—or something to ripe that I would like to see ripen,-and sae I e'en daiker on wi' the family frae year's end to year's end. And I wad say for certain, that I am gaun to quit at Candlemas, only I was just as positive on it twenty years syne, and I find mysel still turning up the mouls here, for a' that. Forbye that, to tell your honour the even down truth, there's nae better place ever offered to Andrew. But if your honour wad wush me to ony place where I wad here pure doctrine, and hae a free cow's grass, and a cot, and a yard, and mair than ten pounds of annual fee, and where there's nae leddy about the town to count the apples, I'se hold mysel muckle indebted to you.'

"Bravo, Andrew; I perceive you'll lose no preferment for want of asking patronage.'

"I canna see what for I should; it's no a generation to wait till ane's worth's discovered, I trow.'

"But you are no friend, I observe, to the ladies.'

"Na, by my troth, I keep up the first gardener's quarrel to them. They're fasheous bargans-aye crying for apricocks, pears, plums, and apples, summer and winter, without distinction o' seasons; but we hae nae slices o' the spare rib here, be praised for't! except auld

Martha, and she's weel aneugh pleased wi' the freedom o' the berry! bushes to her sister's weans, when they come to drink tea in a holiday in the house-keeper's room, and wi' a wheen codlings now and then for her ain private supper.'

"You forget your young mistress.'

"What mistress do I forget?-whae's that?'

"Your young mistress, Miss Vernon.'

"What! the lassie Vernon-She's nae mistress o' mine, man. I wish she was her ain mistress; and I wish she mayna be some other body's mistress or its lang--She's a wild slip that.'

"Indeed!' said I, more interested than I cared to own to myself, or to show to this fellow why, Andrew, you know all the secrets of this family.'

"If I ken them, I can keep them,' said Andrew; 'they winna work in my wame like barm in a barrel, I'se warrant ye. Miss Die is -but its neither beef nor brose o' mine.'

"And he began to dig with a great semblance of assiduity.

"What is Miss Vernon, Andrew? I am a friend of the family, and should like to know.'

"Other than a gude ane, I'm fearing,' said Andrew, closing one eye hard, and shaking his head with a grave and mysterious look'something gleed-your honour understands me.'

66 6

"I cannot say I do,' said I, Andrew; but I should like to hear. you explain yourself;' and therewithal I slipped a crown-piece into Andrew's horn-hard hand. The touch of the silver made him grin a ghastly smile, as he nodded slowly, and thrust it into his breeches pocket; and then, like a man who well understood that there was value to be returned, stood up, and rested his arms on his spade, with his features composed into the most important gravity, as for some serious communication. Ye maun ken, then, young gentleman, since it imports you to know, that Miss Vernon is

"Here breaking off, he sucked in both his cheeks, till his lanthorn jaws and long chin assumed the appearance of a pair of nut-crackers; winked hard once more, frowned, shook his head, and seemed to think his physiognomy had completed the information which his tongue had not fully told.

"Good God!' said I, 'so young, so beautiful, so early lost!' "Troth, ye may say sae-she's in a manner lost, body and saul; forbye being a papist, I'se uphaud her for'—and his northern caution prevailed, and he was again silent.

"For what, sir?' said I, sternly. I insist on knowing the plain meaning of all this.'

"Ou, just for the bitterest jacobite in the haill shire.' "Pshaw! a jacobite ?—is that all ?'

"Andrew looked at me with some astonishment, at hearing his information treated so lightly; and then muttering, It's the warst thing I ken aboot the lassie, howsoe'er,' he resumed his spade, like the King of the Vandals, in Marmontel's late novel." (Vol. i. p. 131-140.)

Andrew seems to have made up his mind to leave Osbaldistone

Hall, from perceiving that matters were fast approaching to a crisis, and that some desperate attempt would speedily be made to reinstate the Stuarts. The priests, and the Irish officers, and the papist cattle, who have been dodgering abroad because they durst na bide at home, were, he observed, fleeing thick in Northumberland; and these corbies (ravens) dinna gather without they smell carrion. The servants, he added, with the tenantry and others, had all been regularly enrolled and mustered, and they wanted him to take arms also. "But I'll ride," says he," in na sic troop-they little kenned Andrew that asked him. I'll fight when I like myself; but it shall neither be for the hoor of Babylon, or any hoor in England."

Whilst in search of his father's correspondents in Glasgow, Frank went to church; where he was admonished by a voice from the crowd, that his life was in danger, and asked to meet the author of this mysterious warning on one of the bridges at midnight. He accepted the invitation, and met Rob Roy; who conducted him to prison, where he had an interview with his father's principal clerk, a faithful, formal creature, of the name of Owen. Whilst the son and clerk of Osbaldistone are condoling and lamenting over recent events, and Rob Roy is conversing with the turnkey, through whose connivance they had procured an entrance into the gaol, a noise is heard at the outer gate, which throws them all into the deepest consternation. The reader will hardly require to be reminded that Rob had already been long an outlaw, and that a price was set upon his head. He cast his eyes round hastily, as if for a place of concealment: then said to Frank, "Lend me your pistols; yet it is no matter, I can do without them. Whatever you see, take no heed, and dinna mix your hand in another man's feud." As he spoke these words, be stripped from his person the cumbrous upper coat in which he was wrapt, confronted the door of the apartment, on which he fixed a keen and determined glance, drawing his person a little back to concentrate his strength, like a fine horse brought up to the leaping bar.

"It was a moment of awful suspense betwixt the opening of the outward gate and that of the door of the apartment, when there appeared-no guard with bayonets fixed, or watch with clubs, bills, or partizans, but a good-looking young woman, with grogram petticoats, tucked up for trudging through the streets, and a lantern in her hand. This female ushered in a more important personage, in form stout, short, and somewhat corpulent; and by dignity, as it soon appeared, a magistrate, bob-wigged, bustling, and breathless with peevish impatience. My conductor, at his appearance, drew back as if to escape observation; but he could not elude the penetrating twinkle with which this dignitary reconnoitred the whole apartment.

"A bonnie thing it is, and a beseeming, that I should be kept at the door half an hour, Captain Stanchells,' said he, addressing the principal jailor, who now showed himself at the door as if in attendance on the great man, 'knocking as hard to get into the tolbooth as ony body else wad to get out of it, could that avail them, poor fallen creatures! And how's this?-how's this? strangers in the jail after lock-up hours! I shall look after this, Stanchells, ye may depend on't-Keep the door lockit, and I'll speak to these gentlemen in a gliffing-But first I maun hae a crack wi' an auld acquaintance here.-Mr. Owen, Mr. Owen, how's a' wi' ye, man?'

"Pretty well in body, I thank you, Mr. Jarvie,' drawled out poor Owen, but sore afflicted in spirit.'

"Nae doubt, nae doubt-ay, ay-it's an awfu' whummle-and for ane that held his head sae high too-human nature, human natureAy, ay, we're a' subject to a downcome. Mr. Osbaldistone is a good honest gentleman; but I aye said he was ane o' them wad make a spune or spoil a horn, as my father, the worthy deacon, used to say. The deacon used to say to me, 'Nick-young Nick,' (his name was Nichol as weel as mine; sae folk ca'd us in their daffin' young Nick and auld Nick)- Nick,' said he, 'never put out your arm farther than you can draw it easily back again.' I hae said sae to Mr. Osbaldistone, and he didna seem to take it a'together sae kind as I meant-but it was weel meant-weel meant.'

"This discourse, delivered with prodigious volubility, and a great appearance of self-complacency, as he recollected his own advice and predictions, gave little promise of assistance at the hands of Mr. Jarvie. Yet it soon appeared rather to proceed from a total want of delicacy than any deficiency of real kindness; for when Owen expressed himself somewhat hurt that these things should be recalled to memory in his present situation, the Glaswegian took him by the hand, and bade him Cheer up a gliff! D'ye think I wad hae comed out at twal o'clock at night, and amaist broken the Lord's-day, just to tell a fa'en man o' his backslidings? Na, na, that's no Baillie Jarvie's gait, nor was't his worthy father's, the deacon, afore him. Why, man! it's my rule never to think on warldly business on the Sabbath, and though I did a' I could to keep your note that I gat this morning out o' my head, yet I thought mair on it a' day than on the preaching-And it's my rule to gang to my bed wi' the yellow curtains preceesely at ten o'clock-unless I were eating a haddock wi' a neighbour, or a neighbour wi' me-ask the lass-quean there, if it isna a fundamental rule in my household; and here aye I sitten up reading gude books, and gaping as if I wad swallow St. Enox Kirk, till it chapped twal, whilk was a lawfu' hour to gie a look at my ledger just to see how things stood between us; and then, as time and tide wait for nae man, I made the lass get the lanthorn, and came slipping my ways here to see what can be dune anent your affairs. Baillie Jarvie can command entrance into the tolbooth at ony hour day ar night; sae could my father, the deacon, in his time, honest man, praise to his memory.'" (Vol. ii. p. 192-196.)

This magisterial personage was a correspondent of Osbaldis

tone and Tresham, and being, with all his vanity, a benevolent character, readily granted bail for Owen, and had him set at liberty the following day. Deeply engaged in business with the clerk, he did not perceive Rob Roy, till he was about to depart from the prison; when all at once recognizing the freebooter,

"Ah!—Eh!-Oh!' exclaimed the Baillie. 'Conscience! it's impossible-and yet-no!-Conscience, it canna be!-And yet againDeil hae me! that I suld sae-Ye robber-ye cataran-ye born deevil that ye are, to a' bad ends and nae gude ane-can this be you?' "E'en as ye see, Baillie,' was the laconic answer.

"Conscience! if I am na clean bumbaized-you, ye cheat-thewuddy rogue, you here on your venture in the tolbooth o' Glasgow ?What d'ye think's the value o' your head?'

"Umph-why, fairly weighed, and Dutch weight, it might weigh down one provost's, four baillies', a town-clerk's, six deacons', besides But tell ower your

stent-masters.'

"Ah, ye reiving villain!' said Mr. Jarvie. sins, and prepare ye, for if I say the word '

666

True, Baillie,' said he who was thus addressed, folding his hands behind him with the utmost nonchalance, but ye will never say that word.'

"And why suld I not, sir?' exclaimed the magistrate-'Why suld I not? Answer me that-why suld I not?'

"For three sufficient reasons, Baillie Jarvie-first, for auld langsyne;-second, for the sake of the auld wife ayont the fire at Stuckavrallachan, that made some mixture of our bluids, to my own proper shame be it spoken, that has a cousin wi' accounts, and yarn winnles, and looms, and shuttles, like a mere mechanical person;-and lastly, Baillie, because if I saw a sign o' your betraying me, I would plaister that wa' with your harns ere the hand of man could rescue you!' "Ye're a bauld desperate villain, sir,' retorted the undaunted Baillie; and ye ken that I ken ye to be sae, and that I wadna stand a moment for my ain risk.'

"I ken weel,' said the other, 'ye hae gentle bluid in your veins, and I wad be laith to hurt my ain kinsman. But I'll gang out here as free as I came in, or the very wa's o' Glasgow tolbooth shall tell o't these ten years to come.'

"Weel, weel,' said Mr. Jarvie, 'bluid's thicker than water; and it lies na in kith, kin, and ally, to see mots in ilk other's een if other een see them no. It wad be sair news to the auld wife below the Ben of Stuckavrallachan, that you, ye Hieland limmer, had knockit out my harns, or that I had kilted you up in a tow. But ye'll own, ye dour deevil, that were it no your very sell, I wad hae grippit the best man in the Hielands.'

"Ye wad hae tried, cousin,' answered my guide, that I wot weel; but I doubt ye wad hae come aff wi' the short measure, for we gangthere-out Hieland bodies are an unchancy generation when you speak to us o' bondage. We downa bide the coercion of gude braid-claith about our hinderlans; let a be breeks o' freestone, and garters o' iron.'