looked at it by the torch-light, and returned it-" Na, na! I never tak gowd-besides, Monkbarns, ye wad maybe be rueing it the morn." Then turning to the group of fishermen and peasants-" Now, sirs, wha will gie me a supper and some clean peasestrae ?" "I,” “and I,” “and I," answered many a ready voice. "Aweel, since sae it is, and I can only sleep in ae barn at ance, I'll gae down wi' Saunders Mucklebackit-he has aye a soup o' something comfortable about his bigging —and, bairns, I'll maybe live to put ilka ane o' ye in mind some ither night that ye hae promised me quarters and my awmous ;" and away he went with the fisherman. Oldbuck laid the hand of strong possession on Lovel-" Deil a stride ye's go to Fairport this night, young man-you must go home with me to Monkbarns. Why, man, you have been a hero—a perfect Sir William Wallace, by all accounts. Come, my good lad, take hold of my arm ;-I am not a prime support in such a wind--but Caxon shall help us out-Here, you old idiot, come on the other side of me.-And how the deil got you down to that infernal Bessy's-apron, as they call it? Bess, said they? Why, curse her, she has spread out that vile pennon or banner of womankind, like all the rest of her sex, to allure her votaries to death and headlong ruin." "I have been pretty well accustomed to climbing, and I have long observed fowlers practise that pass down the cliff.” "But how, in the name of all that is wonderful, came you to discover the danger of the pettish Baronet and his far more deserving daughter?" "I saw them from the verge of the precipice." "From the verge !-umph-And what possessed you, dumosa pendere procul de rupe?-though dumosa is not the appropriate epithet-what the deil, man, tempted ye to the verge of the craig?" "Why-I like to see the gathering and growling of a coming storm-or, in your own classical language, Mr. Oldbuck, suave mari magno-and so forth—but here we reach the turn to Fairport. I must wish you good-night." "Not a step, not a pace, not an inch, not a shathmont, as I may say,-the meaning of which word has puzzled many that think themselves antiquaries. I am clear we should read salmon-length for shathmont's-length. You are aware that the space allotted for the passage of a salmon through a dam, dike, or weir, by statute, is the length within which a full-grown pig can turn himself round. Now I have a scheme to prove, that, as terrestrial objects were thus appealed to for ascertaining submarine measurement, so it must be supposed that the productions of the water were established as gages of the extent of land.-Shathmont-salmont-you see the close alliance of the sounds; dropping out two h's, and a t, and assuming an 1, makes the whole difference—I wish to Heaven no antiquarian derivation had demanded heavier concessions." "But, my dear sir, I really must go home-I am wet to the skin." "Shalt have my night-gown, man, and slippers, and catch the antiquarian fever as men do the plague, by wearing infected garments. Nay, I know what you would be at -you are afraid to put the old bachelor to charges. But is there not the remains of that glorious chicken-pie-which, meo arbitrio, is better cold than hot-and that bottle of my oldest port, out of which the silly brain-sick Baronet (whom I cannot pardon, since he has escaped breaking his neck) had just taken one glass, when his infirm noddle went a wool-gathering after Gamelyn de Guardover ?" So saying, he dragged Lovel forward, till the Palmer's-port of Monkbarns received them. Never, perhaps, had it admitted two pedestrians more needing rest; for Monkbarns's fatigue had been in a degree very contrary to his usual habits, and his more young and robust companion had that evening undergone agitation of mind which had harassed and wearied him even more than his extraordinary exertions of body. HEY reached the room in which they had dined, and were clamorously welcomed by Miss Oldbuck. "Where's the younger womankind?" said the Antiquary. "Indeed, brother, amang a' the steery, Maria wadna be guided by me -she set away to the Halket-craig-head-I wonder ye didna see her." "Eh!-what-what's that you say, sister?-did the girl go out in a night like this to the Halket-head?-Good God! the misery of the night is not ended yet!" "But ye winna wait, Monkbarns-ye are so imperative and impatient " "Tittle-tattle, woman," said the impatient and agitated Antiquary, "where is my dear Mary?" "Just where ye suld be yoursell, Monkbarns-up-stairs, and in her warm bed." "I could have sworn it," said Oldbuck, laughing, but obviously much relieved"I could have sworn it ;-the lazy monkey did not care if we were all drowned together. Why did you say she went out?" "But ye wadna wait to hear out my tale, Monk barns-she gaed out, and she came in again with the gardener sae sune as she saw that nane o' ye were clodded ower the craig, and that Miss Wardour was safe in the chariot;-she was hame a quarter of an hour syne, for it's now ganging ten-sair droukit was she, puir thing, sae I e'en put a glass o' sherry in her water-gruel." "Right, Grizel, right-let womankind alone for coddling each other. But hear ye, my venerable sister-Start not at the word venerable; it implies many praise-worthy qualities besides age; though that too is honourable, albeit it is the last quality for which womankind would wish to be honoured-But perpend my words: let Lovel and me have forthwith the relics of the chicken-pie, and the reversion of the port." "The chicken-pie! the port !-ou dear! brother-there was but a wheen banes, and scarce a drap o' the wine." The Antiquary's countenance became clouded, though he was too well bred to give way, in the presence of a stranger, to his displeased surprise at the disappearance of the viands on which he had reckoned with absolute certainty. But his sister understood these looks of ire. "Ou dear! Monkbarns, what's the use of making a wark?" "I make no wark as ye call it, woman.” "But what's the use o' looking sae glum and glunch about a pickle banes?—an ye will hae the truth, ye maun ken the minister came in, worthy man-sair distressed he was, nae doubt, about your precaurious situation, as he ca'd it (for ye ken how weel he's gifted wi' words), and here he wad bide till he could hear wi' certainty how the matter was likely to gang wi' ye a'-He said fine things on the duty of resignation to Providence's will, worthy man! that did he." Oldbuck replied, catching the same tone, "Worthy man he cared not how soon Monkbarns had devolved on an heir female, I've a notion ;—and while he was occupied in this Christian office of consolation against impending evil, I reckon that the chickenpie and my good port disappeared?" "Dear brother, how can you speak of sic frivolities, when you have had sic an escape from the craig?" "Better than my supper has had from the minister's craig, Grizzie—it's all discussed, I suppose?" 66 Hout, Monkbarns, ye speak as if there was nae mair meat in the house-wad ye not have had me offer the honest man some slight refreshment after his walk frae the manse?" Oldbuck half-whistled, half-hummed, the end of the old Scottish ditty, O, first they eated the white puddings, His sister hastened to silence his murmurs, by proposing some of the relics of the dinner. He spoke of another bottle of wine, but recommended in preference a glass of brandy which was really excellent. As no entreaties could prevail on Lovel to indue the velvet night-cap and branched morning-gown of his host, Oldbuck, who pretended to a little knowledge of the medical art, insisted on his going to bed as soon as possible, and proposed to despatch a messenger (the indefatigable Caxon) to Fairport early in the morning, to procure him a change of clothes. This was the first intimation Miss Oldbuck had received that the young stranger was to be their guest for the night; and such was the surprise with which she was struck by a proposal so uncommon, that, had the superincumbent weight of her head-dress, such as we before described, been less preponderant, her grey locks must have started up on end, and hurled it from its position. "Lord haud a care o' us!" exclaimed the astounded maiden. "What's the matter now, Grizel?" "Wad ye but just speak a moment, Monkbarns?" Speak!-what should I speak about? I want to get to my bed-and this poor young fellow-let a bed be made ready for him instantly." "A bed?-The Lord preserve us!" again ejaculated Grizel. Why, what's the matter now?-are there not beds and rooms enough in the house? -was it not an ancient hospitium, in which I am warranted to say, beds were nightly made down for a score of pilgrims?" "O dear, Monkbarns! wha kens what they might do lang syne?-but in our timebeds-ay, troth, there's beds enow sic as they are-and rooms enow too-but ye ken yoursell the beds haena been sleepit in, Lord kens the time, nor the rooms aired.—If I had kenn'd, Mary and me might hae gane down to the manse-Miss Beckie is aye fond to see us-(and sac is the minister, brother)-But now, gude save us!” "Is there not the Green Room, Grizel?" "Troth is there, and it is in decent order too, though naebody has sleepit there since Dr. Heavysterne, and". "And what?" "And what! I am sure ye ken yoursell what a night he had-ye wadna expose the young gentleman to the like o' that, wad ye?" Lovel interfered upon hearing this altercation, and protested he would far rather walk home than put them to the least inconvenience-that the exercise would be of service to him that he knew the road perfectly, by night or day, to Fairport-that the storm was abating, and so forth ;-adding all that civility could suggest as an excuse for escaping from a hospitality which seemed more inconvenient to his host than he could possibly have anticipated. But the howling of the wind, and the pattering of the rain against the windows, with his knowledge of the preceding fatigues of the evening, must have prohibited Oldbuck, even had he entertained less regard for his young friend than he really felt, from permitting him to depart. Besides, he was piqued in honour to show that he himself was not governed by womankind-" Sit ye down, sit ye down, sit ye down, man,” he reiterated ;—“an ye part so, I would I might never draw a cork again, and here comes out one from a prime bottle of-strong ale-right anno domini-none of your Wassia Quassia decoctions, but brewed of Monkbarns barley-John of the Girnel never drew a better flagon to entertain a wandering minstrel, or palmer, with the freshest news from Palestine. And to remove from your mind the slightest wish to depart, know, that if you do so, your character as a gallant knight is gone for ever. Why, 'tis an adventure, man, to sleep in the Green Room at Monkbarns.-Sister, pray see it got ready-And, although the bold adventurer, Heavysterne, dree'd pain and dolour in that charmed apartment, it is no reason why a gallant knight like you, nearly twice as tall, and not half so heavy, should not encounter and break the spell." "What! a haunted apartment, I suppose ?" "To be sure, to be sure-every mansion in this country of the slightest antiquity has its ghosts and its haunted chamber, and you must not suppose us worse off than our neighbours. They are going, indeed, somewhat out of fashion. I have seen the day, when if you had doubted the reality of a ghost in an old manor-house, you ran the risk of being made a ghost yourself, as Hamlet says.-Yes, if you had challenged the existence of Redcowl in the Castle of Glenstirym, old Sir Peter Pepperbrand would have had ye out to his court-yard, made you betake yourself to your weapon, and if your trick of fence were not the better, would have sticked you like a paddock, on his own baronial middenstead. I once narrowly escaped such an affray-but I humbled myself, and apologised to Redcowl; for, even in my younger days, I was no friend to the monomachia, or duel, and would rather walk with Sir Priest than with Sir Knight-I care not who knows so much of my valour. Thank God, I am old now, and can indulge my irritabilities without the necessity of supporting them by cold steel.” Here Miss Oldbuck re-entered, with a singularly sage expression of countenance."Mr. Lovel's bed's ready, brother-clean sheets-weel aired—a spunk of fire in the chimney-I am sure, Mr. Lovel" (addressing him), "it's no for the trouble-and I hope you will have a good night's rest-But”— "You are resolved," said the Antiquary, "to do what you can to prevent it." "Me?—I am sure I have said naething, Monk barns." “My dear madam," said Lovel, "allow me to ask you the meaning of your obliging anxiety on my account." "Ou, Monkbarns does not like to hear of it--but he kens himsell that the room has an ill name. It's weel minded that it was there auld Rab Tull the town-clerk was sleeping when he had that marvellous communication about the grand law-plea between us and the feuars at the Mussel-craig-It had cost a hantle siller, Mr. Lovel; for law-pleas were no carried on without siller lang syne mair than they are now-and the Monkbarns of that day-our gudesire, Mr. Lovel, as I said before-was like to be waured afore the Session “O, Monkbarns, man! do ye think everybody is as book-learned as yoursell?-But "Nature has been beforehand with me, Grizel, in both these instances, and in another which shall be nameless ;-but take a glass of ale, Grizel, and proceed with your story, for it waxes late." 66 Jenny's just warming your bed, Monkbarns, and ye maun e'en wait till she's done.— Weel, I was at the search that our gudesire, Monkbarns that then was, made wi' auld Rab Tull's assistance ;-but ne'er-be-licket could they find that was to their purpose. And sae, after they had touzled out mony a leather poke-full o' papers, the town-clerk had his drap punch at e'en to wash the dust out of his throat-we never were glassbreakers in this house, Mr. Lovel, but the body had got sic a trick of sippling and tippling wi' the bailies and deacons when they met (which was amaist ilka night) concerning the common gude o' the burgh, that he couldna weel sleep without it-But his punch he gat and to bed he gaed; and in the middle of the night he gat a fearfu' wakening !—he was never just himsell after it, and he was strucken wi' the dead palsy that very day four years. He thought, Mr. Lovel, that he heard the curtains o' his bed fissil, and out he lookit, fancying, puir man, it might hae been the cat-But he saw-God hae a care o' us! it gars my flesh aye creep, though I hae tauld the story twenty times-he saw a weel-fa'ard auld gentleman standing by his bedside, in the moonlight, in a queer-fashioned dress, wi' mony a button and band-string about it, and that part o' his garments which it does not become a leddy to particulareeze, was baith side and wide, and as mony plies o't as of ony Hamburgh skipper's-He had a beard too, and whiskers turned upwards on his upper-lip, as lang as baudrons'-and mony mair particulars there were that Rab Tull tauld o', but they are forgotten now-it's an auld story. Aweel, Rab was a just-living man for a country writer-and he was less fear'd than maybe might just hae been expected; and he asked in the name o' goodness what the apparition wanted-and the spirit answered in an unknown tongue. Then Rab said he tried him wi' Erse, for he cam in his youth frae the braes of Glenlivat-but it wadna do. Aweel, in this strait, he bethought him of the twa or three words o' Latin, that he used in making out the town's deeds, and he had nae sooner tried the spirit wi' that, than out cam sic a blatter o' Latin about his lugs, that poor Rab Tull, wha was nae great scholar, was clean overwhelmed. Od, but he was a bauld body, and he minded the Latin name for the deed that he was wanting. It was something about a cart, I fancy, for the ghaist cried aye, Carter, carter |