CHAPTER XII.

THE COTTAGE OF ELSIE.

"Ha! honest nurse, where were my eyes before?
I know thy faithfulness and need no more."
                                                                            ALLAN RAMSAY.

Several days elapsed without our tyrannical voluptuary being able to do anything personally in the discovery, or persecution of the Napiers. His wounded hand from neglect became extremely painful, and his late debauch with Mersington had thrown him into a state so feverish, that luckily he was compelled to keep within his own apartments; but obstacles only inflamed his passion and exasperated his obstinacy. It would be difficult to analyze the sentiments he entertained towards Lilian Napier. Love, in the purer, nobler, and more exalted idea of the passion he assuredly had not. His overweening pride had been bitterly piqued by her hauteur. The beauty of her person, and the inexpressible charm of her manner had first attracted him, and, notwithstanding the studied coldness with which he was treated, the passion of the roué got the better of judgment. Lilian's great expectations, too, had farther inflamed his ardour; but all the attentions which he proffered on every occasion with inimitable address, were utterly unavailing, and for the first time the gay Lord Clermistonlee found himself completely baffled by a girl. Surprised at her opposition, his pride and constitutional obstinacy became powerfully enlisted in the affair, and he determined by forcible abduction, or some such coup-de-main, to subdue the haughty little beauty to his purpose. Although he had been unable to prosecute his amour in person, Juden and others had narrowly watched the cottage of old Elshender, and brought from thence such reports as convinced his Lordship that she alone could enlighten him as to the retreat of Lilian and Lady Grizel, if they were not actually concealed within her dwelling.

Though a munificent reward had been offered for their discovery, trusting to the well-known faith and long-tried worth of their aged vassal, the ladies had found a shelter in her humble residence, correctly deeming that a house so poor and so near the city walls would escape unsearched, when one at a distance might not. There they dwelt in the strictest seclusion and disguise on the very marge of their ample estates, and almost within view of the turrets of their ancient manor-house.

Since the torture to which the unhappy Ichabod Bummel had been subjected, and his subsequent imprisonment on the Bass Rock (where Peden of Glenluce, Scott of Pitlochie, Bennett of Chesters, Gordon of Earlston, Campbell of Cesnock, and others endured a strict captivity as the price of sedition), Lady Grizel and Lilian hoped that their involvement with the Orange spies, and their flight, would soon be alike forgotten, especially now, when they were so utterly ruined and impoverished by proscription, that they were forced to share the bounty of their humblest vassal.

Near the old ruined chapel of St. Rocque, and close under the outspread branches of a clump of lofty beech trees, by the side of the ancient loan that led to Saint Giles' Grange, nestled the little thatched cottage of Elsie Elshender. It was low-roofed, and its thick heavy thatch was covered with grass and moss of emerald green. The white-washed walls were massive, and perforated by four small windows, each about a foot square, but crossed by an iron bar; two faced the loan in front, and two overlooked the kailyard and byre to the back. The cottage had one great clay-built chimney, at the back of which was a little eyelet hole, affording from the stone ingle-seats a view of the arid hills of Braid, and the solitary path that wound over their acclivities to the peel of Liberton, then the patrimony of the loyal Winrams. On one side of the door was a turf seat, on the other a daddingstone, where (in the ancient fashion) the barley was cleansed every morning, for the use of the family. This humble residence contained only a but and a ben, or inner and outer apartment, and both were furnished with box-beds opening in front with doors. The first chamber, though floored with hard beaten clay, was as clean as whitening and sprinkled sand could make it; a large fire of wood and peats blazed on the rude hearth; and in its ruddy light the various rows of Flemish ware, beechwood luggies, milk-bowies, horn-spoons, and polished pewter arrayed above the wooden buffet or dresser, were all glittering in that shiny splendour which a smart housewife loves. Within the wide fireplace on a pivet hung a glowing Culross girdle, on which a vast cake was baking.

It was night, but neither lamp nor candle were required; the fire's warm blaze gave ample light, and a more comfortable little cottage than old Elsie's when viewed by that hospitable glow, was not to be found in the three Lothians. Three oak chairs of ancient construction, a table similar, a great meal girnel in one corner, flanked by a peat bunker in the other, and an odd variety of stoups, pitchers, and three-legged stools made up the background. On the table lay an old quarto bible from which Lilian read aloud certain passages every night, Andro Hart's "Psalmes in Scot's meter," and the "Hynd let loose" of the "Godly Mr. Sheils," who was then in the hands of the Phillistines, and keeping the Reverend Ichabod Bummel company in the towers of the Bass. Two kirn-babies decorated with blue ribbons, a quaint woodcut of our first parents' joining hands under what resembled a great cabbage in the Garden of Eden appeared over the mantel-piece, together with a long rusty partisan with which the umquhile John Elshender had laid about him like a Trojan on the battle-field of Dunbar.

Close by the ingle sat his widow Elsie enjoying its warmth, and listening to the birr of her wheel. She was a hale old woman of seventy years, with a nose and chin somewhat prominent; her grey hair was neatly disposed under a snowwhite cap of that Flemish fashion which is still common in Scotland, and over which a simple black ribbon marks widowhood. Her upper attire consisted of a coarse skirt of dark blue stuff, over which fell a short linen gown, reaching a little below her girdle, which bristled with keys, knitting wires, pincushion, and scissors. Similarly attired in a short Scottish gown, which showed to the utmost advantage the full outline of her buxom figure, her niece Meinie, a rosy, hazel-eyed, and dark-haired girl of twenty, stood by the meal girnel baking (Anglicé kneading), and as the sleeves of her dress came but a little below the shoulder, her fair round arms and dimpled elbows did not belie the pretty and merry face, which now and then peeped round at the group near the fire. Two of these ought perhaps to have been described first.

Disguised as a peasant, Lady Grisel no longer wore her white hair puffed out by Monsieur Pouncet's skill, but smoothed under a plain starched bigonet, coif, or mutch (which you will), and very ill at ease the stately old dame appeared in her hostess's coarse attire. By way of pre-eminence she occupied the great leathern chair, in which no mortal had been seated since the decease of John Elshender, who for forty consecutive years had hung his bonnet on a knob thereof, while taking his evening doze therein, after a day's ploughing or harrowing on the rigs of Drumdryan.

Clad in one of the short gowns of Meinie, her foster-sister, Lilian looked more graceful and decidedly more piquant, than when at home rustling in lace, frizzled and perfumed; her fair hair was gathered up in a simple snood like that of a peasant girl; but never had peasant nor peeress more beautiful or more glossy tresses. The poor girl was very pale; constant watching and anxiety, a feeling of utter abandonment and helplessness should their retreat be traced, had quite robbed her of that soft bloom, the glow of perfect health and happiness, her cheeks had formerly worn.

The cottage contained a secret hiding place, constructed by that "pawkie auld carle," John Elshender, as an occasional retreat in time of peril, and therein the noble fugitives remained during the day, issuing forth only at night, when, the windows closed by shutters within and without, and a well-barred door, precluded all chance of a sudden discovery. These precautions were imperatively necessary: had the fugitives been seen by any one, the exceeding whiteness of their hands, the softness of their voices, and, above all, the decided superiority of their air, would have rendered all disguise unavailing. In silence and sadness Lady Bruntisfield sat gazing on the changing features of the glowing embers; but her mind was absorbed within itself. Lilian was sewing, or endeavouring to do so; her downcast eyes were suffused with tears, and from time to time she stole a glance at Aunt Grisel. Every sound startled and caused her to prick her delicate fingers, or snap the thread, until compelled to throw aside the work; she then drew near her grand-aunt, bowed her head on her shoulder, and wept aloud.

"Lilian, love!" exclaimed Lady Grisel, endeavouring to command her own feelings, though the quivering of her proud nether lip showed the depth of her emotion. "For my sake, if not for your own, do not thus, every night, give way to unavailing sorrow and regret."

Lilian's thoughts were wandering to poor Walter Fenton in his prison, and she still wept.

"Marry come up! it would ill suit this little one to become the wife of a Scottish baron or gentleman of name!" said the old lady, pettishly. "Lilian Napier, those tears become not your blood, whilk you inherit from a warrior, whom the bravest of our kings said had nae-peer in arms. Bethink ye, Lilian! Ere I was your age, I had seen my two brothers, Cuthbert and Ninian, cloven down under their own roof-tree by the Northumbrian Mosstroopers, and brave lads they were as ever levelled pike or petronel. O! yet in my ears I hear the clink of their harness as they fell dead on the flagstones of our hall; and never may ye hear such sounds, Lilian, for they are hard to thole. But I was a brave lassie then, and could bend a hackbut owre a rampart, or send a dag-shot through an English burgonet, without wincing or winking once; for my memory gangs back to the days of gentle King Jamie, ere the Scotsman had learned to give his ungauntled hand to the Southron."

"Fearfu' times, my leddy," said Elsie, "fearfu' times! waly, waly, I mind o' them weel."

"They tell us we are one people now," continued the Scottish dame, with kindling eyes. "Malediction on those who think so! I am a Hume of the Cowdenknowes, and cannot forget that my brothers, my husband, and his three fair boys poured their heart's blood forth upon English steel."

"Ill would it become your ladyship to do so," said Elsie, urging her wheel with increased velocity, and resolving not to be outdone in garrulity by Lady Grisel. "Weel mayest thou greet my bonnie bairn Lilian, for these are fearfu' times for helpless women bodies, when the strong hand and sharp sword can hardly make the brave man haud his ain; but they are as nothing to what I have seen, when the doolfu' persecution was hot in the land. I mind the time when, trussed up wi' a tow like a spitted chucky, I was harled away behind that neer-do-well trooper, Holsterlie, and dookit thrice in Bonnington-linn by Claverse' orders, and just as the water rose aboon my mutch, gif I hadna cried 'God save King Charles and curse the Covenant,' I hadna been spinning here to-night. Weary on't, I've aye had a doolfu' cramp since that hour."

"A piece of a coffin keepeth away the cramp, Elsie, but 'tis an unco charm, and one that I like not."

"Gude keep us! how many puir folk I have seen in my time hanged, or shot, or writhing in great bodily anguish in the iron buits, wi' lighted gun-matches bleezing between their birselled fingers, and expiring in agonies awfu' to see and fearfu' to remember, and a' rather than abjure the Holy Covenant and bless the King."

"And rightly were they served, false rebels!" said Lady Bruntisfield, striking her cane on the floor.

"But let the persecutors tak' heed," continued Elsie, heedless of the dame's Cavalier prejudices, "for their foot shall slide in due time (as the blessed word sayeth), the day of their calamity is at hand, and the sore things that are coming upon them make haste."

"O hush, dear Elsie," said Lilian, "you know not who may hear you."

"True, Madame Lilian," continued the old woman, "and your words are a burning reproach against those who make it treason to whisper the word, unless to the sound o' drums and shawlms, and organs. These are fearfu' times."

"Toots, nurse, I have seen waur," said Lady Bruntisfield impatiently.

"Aye, my Leddy, in the year fifty, when the army o' that accursed Cromwell came up by Lochend brawly in array o' battle, wi' the sun o' a summer morning glinting on their pike-heads and steel caps; marching they were, but neither to tuck of drum nor twang of horn, but to a fushionless English hymn, whilk they aye skirled on the eve o' battle. But our braw lads beat the auld Scots' march, and my heart warmed at the brattle o' their drums and the fanfare o' the trumpets. O, their thousands were a gallant sight to see, a' lodged in deep trenches by Leith Loan, and the green Calton braes covered wi' men-at-arms, and bristling wi' spears and brazen cannon! On the topmost rock waved the banner o' the godly Argyle, and a' the craigs were swarming wi' his wild Hielandmen in their chain jackets and waving tartans. An awfu' time it was for me and mony mair! My puir gudeman (whom God sain) rode in the Lowden Horse, under Sir Archibald's banner (Heaven rest him too). That morning I grat like a bairn when hooking the buff coat on his buirdly breiest, and clasping the steel helmet on his manly broo, (O, hinnie Lilian, ne'er may ye hae to do that for the man ye loe!) ere he gaed forth to battle for this puir cot, his little bairns, and me. But heigh! it was a brave sight, and a bonnie, to see our Lowden lads sweeping the English birds o' Belial before them like chaff on the autumn wind, though my heart was faint, and fluttered like a laverock in the hawk's grasp, and I trembled and prayed for my puir man Jock. My een were ever on Sir Archibald's red plume——"

"Red and blue, gules and argent, were his colours, Elsie," said Lady Grisel, whose tears fell fast. "O, nursie, my ain hand twined them in his helmet."

"True, my leddy," continued the old woman, whose strong feelings imparted a force to her language, "my een were ever on that waving plume, for well I kent where the Laird was, John Elshender was sure to be if in life. Aye, Lilian, hinnie, Sir Archibald's voice was as a trumpet in the hour of strife. 'Bruntisfield! Bruntisfield! bridle to bridle, lads!' We heard him shout on every sough o' wind, 'God and the King!' and ever an' anon his uplifted sword flashed among the English helmets like the levin brand on a winter night, and mony a gay feather, and mony a gay fellow fell before it."

"Peace, Elsie, enough!" said Lady Grisel, weeping freely at the mention of her husband, who had greatly distinguished himself in that cavalry encounter, where Cromwell's attack on Edinburgh was so signally repulsed. "If you love me, good nurse, I prythee cease these reminiscences!"

"Weel, my lady, but muckle mair could I tell doo Lilian o' these fearfu' times," continued the garrulous old woman, who loved (as the Scots all do) to speak of the dead and other days; "muckle indeed, for an auld carlin sees unco things in a lang lifetime. But, dearsake, your ladyship, dinna greet sae, for better times will come, and bethink ye they that thole overcome, for when things are at the warst, the're sure aye to mend; sae spake the godly Mr. Bummel to those who outlived that fearfu' night in the Whigs' vault at Dunottar."

"Ah!" said Lilian shuddering, for she thought of Walter Fenton. "That was a dark dungeon, nurse, was it not?"

"Deep, and dark, and vaulted, howkit in the whinrock, yet therein were ane hundred three score and seventeen o' God's persecuted creatures thrust, and there they expired in the agony and thirst, such as the rich man suffered in hell—where Lauderdale suffers noo. Ah, hinnie, it was a dowie place; the Water-hole of the town guard is a king's chamber in comparison; it is black, damp, and slimy as a tod's den."

"Oh, madam, it is just in such a place they have confined poor Walter—I mean this young man whom we have involved in our misfortunes," said Lilian, in tears and confusion. "It is ever before me, since the night you sent me to him. Dear Aunt Grisel, you cannot conceive all he endures at present, and is yet to endure."

"He is of low birth, Lilian, and therefore better able than we to endure indignity," said Lady Bruntisfield, somewhat coldly. "Yet I hope he shall not die—"

"Die!" reiterated Lilian, piqued at her kinswoman's coolness; "ah, why such a thought?"

"I sorrow for him as much as you, Lilian. The young man seemed good and gentle, with a bearing far above his humble fortune, and a comely youth withal."

Lilian made no reply, but a close observer would have perceived that her blue eyes sparkled and the colour of her cheek heightened with pleasure as Lady Grisel spoke,

"And said he of the council threatened him with torture?" she continued.

"Clermistonlee—"

"Ah!" ejaculated Lady Grisel.

"Eh, sirs?" added Elsie.

"Clermistonlee," continued Lilian, shuddering, "would have had him torn limb from limb, but for the intercession of Claverhouse."

"And for what does he hate the youth?"

"Permitting me to escape, I presume," replied Lilian, raising her head with a little hauteur.

"Claverse'!" said Elsie, in a low voice; "then this is the first gude I have heard o' him. Folk say he is in league wi' the de'il (Heaven keep us!) and that when the satanic spirit is in him, his black een flash like wildfire in a moss-hagg. Certes! I'll no forget that fearfu' day when he would hae dookit me to death for a word or twa."

"Colonel Grahame was guilty of most abominable ungallantry, Elsie; and yet I do not think he would have ducked me."

"Ungallantry, Lilian!" said Lady Grisel, grasping her cane, "ye should say a breach of law, ye sillie lassie. Our barony hath power of pit and gallows by charter from Robert the Auld Farrand, and it was a daring act and a graceless, to drag a vassal from our bounds, when I could have hanged her myself on the dule-tree, by a word of my mouth!" (Elsie winced.) "But he stood the youth's friend, you say?"

"Yes, and what dost think, nurse Elsie, so did old Beardie Dalyel!"

"Marvellous! but mind ye the proverb, Hawks dinna pyke out hawks' een. The lad wears buff and steel, and eats his beef and bannock by tuck of drum; and sae baith Claverse' and Dalyel shewed him that mercy whilk a sanct o' God's oppressed kirk, would hae sued in vain wi' clasped hands and bended knees."

"Ah, nurse, you don't know this young man. He is so mild-eyed and gentle, that Dalyel—"

"Meinie, ye hizzie, the cakes are scouthering! Dalyel! folk say his mother was in love wi' the deil; and my son Hab (a black day it was too when he first mounted his bandoleers,) ance saw a kail-stock scorched to the very heart when the auld knicht spat on it—but fearfu' men are suited to fearfu' times."

"Hush, Elshender," said Lady Grisel; "they are indeed times when we must fear the corbies on the roof, and the swallow under the eaves. One might deem the council to have a familiar fiend at their command, (like that fell warlock Weir, whose staff went errands,) for nought passes in cot or castle on this side of the highland frontier, but straightway they are informed of it. From whence could they have tidings that our gallant kinsman Quentin, and that fule body Bummel were at Bruntisfield? Landed at midnight from the Dutch frigate near the mouth of the lonely Figget Burn, they were secretly admitted to our house, in presence only of my baillie and most familiar servitors, who would not betray me. I rejoice the captain hath escaped their barbarities—but Ichabod, poor man!—I suppose his earthly troubles are well nigh over."

"A dreich time he'll have o't on the lonely Bass," said Meinie, turning the savory cakes, and blowing her pretty fingers. "There is naething there but gulls flapping and skirling, the soughing wind and roaring waves; but it will be a braw place to preach in, gif the red-coats let him. Oh, it would be the death o' me to be among these red-coats."

"Unless Hab Elshender were one," said Lilian: and Meinie blushed, for the linking of two names together has a strange charm to a young heart.

"Ou' aye," laughed the light-hearted girl; "but Maister Ichabod may cool his lugs blawing gospel owre the craigs, to the north wind, or gieing the waves a screed o' that blessed "Bombshell," he aye havers o'. Better that than skirling a psalm at the Bowfoot, till the doomster's axe comes down wi' a bang, and sends his head chittering into a basket. Ugh!'"

"Meinie, peace wi' this discourse, whilk beseems not!" said Elsie with great asperity. "I heard the lips o' the godly Renwick pray audibly, after his head lay in Pate Pincer's basket. Eh, sirs! what a head it is now. Yet the Netherbow guard watch it wi' cocked matches day and night, for there is mony a bold plot made by the Cameronians to carry it awa."

"But our unfortunate friend the preacher—how dearly, by his crushed limbs, has he paid for his zeal in the cause of the Dutch prince! Yet, as Heaven knoweth, I knew not that letters of treason to our Scottish nobles were in his possession, or never would he have darkened the door of Bruntisfield. He deceived me; let it pass. Sir Archibald, thou rememberest well my husband, Elsie?—'tis well that he sleeps in his grave. Oh, judge what he would have thought of our downfal and degradation!"

"My mind misgives me, my lady, but Sir Archibald's kirk was the fushionless ane o' episcopacy, and, indeed, he just gaed wherever the troops marched, with trumpets blawing and kettle-drums beating waefu' to hear in the day o' the Lord."

This last speech somewhat displeased Lady Grisel, who struck her cane thrice on the clay floor, and there ensued a long pause, broken only by creaking of the beeches in the adjoining grove, and the birr of Elsie's wheel as it whirled by the ruddy fire.

"Come, your Leddyship," said Elsie, "let byegones be byegones, and we'll be canty while we may. Meinie can sing like a laverock in the summer morning; sae, lassie, gie forth your best sang to please our lady, and then we'll hae our luggies o' milk, and bit o' your bannocks, a screed o' the blessed gospel, and syne awa to our rest, for its waxing late."

Meinie of course was about to enter some bashful protest, when the soft voice of her foster-sister said,—

"Do, dearest Meinie, and I will join thee; 'twill raise the spirits of good aunt Grisel. Ah, if I had only my spinnet, the cittern, or even my flageolet here!"

"What is your pleasure, then, Madam Lilian?" asked Meinie, curtseying, "Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament, or The Broom of the Cowdenknowes?"

"Anything but the last," said Lady Bruntisfield. "The Knowes of Cowden hath passed away from the house of Hume, and bonnie though the golden broom may be, it blooms for us no more."

"Sing 'Dunbarton's drums,' Meinie," said Lilian, "you hum it from morning till evening."

"And so do you, Madam," said Meinie slyly and bluntly; "but I loe the merry measure."

"Ewhow, that's because o' my wild son Hab!" said Elsie, laughing. "Mak' speed, lassie—our lady waits."

Meinie made another low old-fashioned curtsey, and then, while continuing her task, sang the song and march composed for the Scots Royals, or Dunbarton's Musqueteers, and which had then been popular in Scotland for some years. Lilian at times added her softer notes to Meinie's, and their clear voices made the rough rafters, hollow box-beds, and deep bunkers of the old cottage ring to that merry old air:—

"Dunbarton's drums beating bonnie, O,
Remind me o' my Johnnie, O,

added Elsie, beating time with her feet to the mellow voices of the girls; but Lady Bruntisfield heard them not, for with her glistening eyes fixed on the glowing embers, she gradually sunk into a deep reverie. Animated each by her own secret thoughts, the girls sang with tenderness and enthusiasm, and all were so much engaged that none of the four perceived a fifth personage, who suddenly made his appearance among them.

In a corner of the cottage stood a great oak chest, apparently a meal girnel, but having a false floor, and being in reality the mouth of the subterranean place of concealment and escape, communicating with the grove behind the cottage. Such outlets were numerous in all large mansions; and the dangerous times of the Solemn League had caused the umquhile John Elshender to construct such a sallyport from his humble dwelling; and on several occasions of peril it had saved him from being hanged over his own door by Malignants, Covenanters, and English, or whoever had the upperhand for the time. Slowly the girnel lid was raised, and the glowing firelight shone on the steel breast-plate and bandoleers of a musqueteer. He was a ruddy-faced young man, with the prominent cheek-bones and shrewd expression of the Lowland peasantry: stout and athletic in figure, his keen grey eyes took a rapid survey of the cottage under the peak of his morion. His face expressed surprise and curiosity, but as the song proceeded he stepped slowly and softly out, and when it was concluded stood close to the rosy and buxom Meinie.

"Hurrah!" he exclaimed, and gave her a resounding kiss on each cheek. The wheel fell from the relaxed hand of Elsie, and a shriek burst from Lilian, who believed they were betrayed, and threw herself before her aged kinswoman.

"Hab, Hab, ye graceless loon," screamed Elsie, as her son now kissed her, "how dare ye gliff folk this gate?"

"Hoots, Hab, ye've toozled a' my tap-knot," said Meinie, affecting to pout; "ye came on me noo like a ghaist or a spunkie."

"Heyday, Meinie, my doo! ye want to be kissed again; do ye think I have trailed a pike these eight years under my Lord Dunbarton, without learning to tak' baith castles and kimmers by storm."

"Aye-aye, you are as bad as the warst o' them, I doubt not. Lasses, indeed—dinna come near me again."

"Hoity, toity, does she not want another kiss?"

"Haud, you wild loon," said his mother, in great glee; "do ye no see who are present?"

"An auld neighbour carlin, I think, and as bonnie a young lass as I ever saw on the longest day's march, d—n me."

Halbert suddenly paused, and became very much perplexed. The blood rushed into his swarthy face, as with an awkward but profound salute he said, in an altered voice,—

"I crave your pardon a thousand times, noble madam; and yours, sweet Mistress Lilian. My humble duty to ye both, though it is not long since I had the happiness to meet you. It goes to my heart to see you in attire so unbefitting your station. O, Lady Grisel, I ken oure well of all that has come to pass, for I was one of the thirty files of musqueteers, that were with Finland at the auld place on that sorrowful night last month. They are hard times these, my lady."

"Fearfu' times, my son," chorussed Elsie.

"True, Halbert," said the old lady. "Ruin and proscription now level the most noble with the mean, the most unoffending with the guilty, and blend all with the common herd. But, Halbert, I bid ye welcome, my man, and God bless ye!"

"And I too, Habbie," added Lilian; "for I cannot forget when we bird-nested in the wood yonder, and gathered gowans and flowers on the sunny braes in summer. Oh! Hab, in all your soldiering, I will warrant ye have never been so happy as we were then."

The eyes of the soldier glistened.

"True it is, madam," said he, as slightly and bashfully he raised to his lip the beautiful hand she extended towards him; "true, indeed. I have spent many a happy hour under the canvass tent, and birled many a wine horn merrily in the Flanders hostels and French cabarets; but never have I seen such happy hours as those we spent when we were bairns, amang the oakwoods of the auld place upbye yonder. Often hath brave Mr. Fenton, when tramping by my side on the long dusty march, recalled their memory in such wise that my heart swelled under its iron case. And truly, honoured madam, though the same heart is wrung to see you dressed in cousin Meinie's humble duds, never saw I lassie that looked sae winsome. Od rot it! how came your ladyship to let that ill-omened corbie to darken your door? when sure ye might have been that dool and mischief would meet thereafter on your hearthstane. This goose Bummel——"

"Oh, Hab, ye gomeral, wheesht!" said Elsie, interrupting this somewhat laboured address. "Your notions o' ministers are gathered frae your tearing, swearing, through-ganging, horse-racing, and hard-drinking Episcopal curates and chaplains, that swagger about wi' cockades in their bonnets and swords at their thighs, chucking every bonnie lass under chin, and gieing ilka sabbath a sleepy, fushionless, feckless, drouthie, cauldrifed discourse, whilk hath neither the due birr nor substantious, soul-feeding effect o' the true gospel, but savours rather o' the abomination——"

"Ahoi, mother, halt!—egad, or mind the iron gags, the fetterlocks, and thumbikins!" cried her son, with an alarm that was no way lessened by a violent knocking at the cottage door, where, at that moment, the iron ring of the risp was drawn sharply and repeatedly up and down.

The hearts of the poor fugitives forgot to beat! Insult, imprisonment, banishment, or worse, rushed upon the mind of Lady Bruntisfield; the dark, gloating eyes and terrible presence of Clermistonlee, upon that of Lilian: but Halbert Elshender snatched up his musquet and blew the match till it glowed on his sun-burned face, an action which made the women grow paler still.

"Beard of the devil! Get into the girnel, Lady Grizel; and you, madam Lilian—quick!" exclaimed the soldier in a vehement whisper.

"Halbert," faltered Lady Bruntisfield, "your father was a leal and faithful vassal——"

"And I, his only son, will stand by you and yours to the death, even as he would have done. In—in—away to the Beech-grove, ere worse come of it. Mother, ye donnart jaud, doun wi' the lid, and pouch the key. And now, may I run the gauntlet from right to left, if you (whoever you are) that tirl the risp so hard get not a taste of King Jamie's new sweyne-feather!" He screwed his dagger or bayonet to the muzzle of his matchlock, and then demanded in a loud voice—

"Stand, stranger. Who goes there?"

"One who must speak with Lady Bruntisfield, whom I know to be concealed here. Open, and without a moment's delay."

"Lost—lost! Gude Lord, keep thy hand over them and us!" murmured Elsie, clinging to Meinie, as another loud and impatient blow shook the well-barred door, and found a terrible echo in the trembling hearts of the fugitives and their protectors.

CHAPTER XIII.

A REVERSE.

A fredome is a noble thing!
Fredome makes man to have liking;
Fredome al solace to man gives,
He lives at ease that frely lives.
                                                        BARBOUR'S BRUCE.

Walter was still where we left him in the eleventh chapter, an inmate of the city prison.

The gloom, monotony, and degradation affected his mind, not less than the confinement and noxious vapours of the place did his health, and he felt his strength and spirit failing fast. The longing for freedom became one moment almost too intense to be borne, and the next he sank into a listless apathy, careless alike of liberty and life. And as his health suffered, and his ardour died his aspect became (though he knew it not) more haggard and ghastly on each succeeding day.

The recollection of Lilian's midnight visit, alone threw a ray of light through the gloom of his clouded fortune; over that event he mused, at times, with unalloyed pleasure. Anxiously he watched every night, animated by a faint hope that she might come again; but Lilian came no more.

"She came merely to thank me for my service, and I shall soon be forgotten," he would say; and then came vividly on his mind, the blight and disgrace which had been heaped upon him, and the abyss into which he had been cast. Keenly and bitterly he now felt his loneliness in the world. All this he might have escaped, perhaps, but for the evil offices of the malevolent Clermistonlee; and when he contemplated how dim and distant was the prospect of ever again rising even to his former humble station, his heart was wrung; for, with the fetters of a coward and slave, he felt that he possessed the soul and the fire of a hero.

"Though poor and unpretending, I was a gentleman, so far as spirit, bearing, and manners could make me. I have done nothing that is vile or dishonourable; but now, after fetters have dishonoured these hands, and prison-walls enclosed me, can I ever again look my equals in the face? Yes! and may I perish, if Randal of Clermistonlee shall not learn that in time!"

He spoke fiercely; for he had now, from very solitude, acquired a habit of uttering his thoughts aloud. He could not suppress his dread that Lilian Napier, in the present proscribed and friendless state of her family, might too easily fall into the toils of that famous and powerful roué, whose crimes and excesses, in a country so rigidly moral, were regarded with a horror and detestation, that made women generally shun his touch as they passed him in the street, and his glance by the wayside. Remembering his parting words, the bitter threat, and the fierce aspect of his visage and polecat eyes when he last beheld him, Walter was justly under considerable apprehension, that he might again be summoned before the Council, and either have his sentence altered to one of greater severity, or have its most degrading clauses carried into immediate execution. In fact, Lord Clermistonlee's temporary indisposition alone deferred such a catastrophe. Consequently day after day passed; the weeks ran on, but he never saw another face than that of a grim old city-guardsman, who each morning brought him a coarse cake, a bowl of porridge, and a pitcher of water; and, acting strictly to the tenor of his orders, withdrew without a word of greeting or condolence.

Thus day and night rolled on in weary and intense monotony, and poor Walter by turns grew more fierce and impatient, or more listless and apathetic. Sometimes he dosed and dreamed away the day, on his bed of damp and fetid straw, and by night paced slowly the floor of that little vault, every stone and joint and feature of which, became indelibly impressed on his memory.

But a crisis came sooner than he had anticipated.

One night he was roused from a deeper and heavier slumber than usual by the unwonted light of a large lamp flashing on his eyes; he started, awoke, and the glare blinded him for a moment. Three persons were close beside him. One was the odious, sinister, and hard-featured Gudeman of the establishment; the second was the old soldier who acted as javelleur; and the third was a gentleman whose lofty bearing and rich attire caused Walter to spring at once to his feet. He was a dark-complexioned and very handsome man, bordering on forty years of age; he wore a coat of rose-coloured velvet, slashed at the breast and shoulders with white satin; his breeches and stockings were of spotless white silk; his boots of pale buff, and accoutred with massive gold spurs. His voluminous black wig was shaded by his plumed Spanish hat, the band of which sparkled with brilliants; while a long rapier, gold-headed cane and diamond ring showed he was quite a man of fashion. It was George Douglas, the gallant Earl of Dunbarton.

"'Sdeath! Walter, my boy, I little thought to find you here," said he. "Faugh! this place is like the old souterrains of Alsace or Brisgau; yet here it was that the great Argyle once sojourned!"

"My Lord—my Lord!" exclaimed Walter joyfully—"how unexpected is this honour!"

"I returned only this forenoon from London."

"A long journey and a perilous, my Lord. I congratulate you on your safe return."

"Thanks, my boy. The Countess suffered much, she is so delicate, and my private coach, though carrying only six inside and six without, (beside our baggage) rumbled so heavily—but we were only five weeks on the way—a very tolerable journey."

"Very; and still, my Lord, I have heard of it being done in three; but the roads——"

"O they are pretty good now, I assure you, till one reaches the debateable land and the old boundary road at Berwick. There are bridges over most of the rivers too; but the lonely places swarm with footpads and highwaymen. Wilt believe it? we had only one break down by the way, and two encounters with gentlemen of the post. Ah! I winged one varlet near the Rerecross of Stanmore one night, and to be a soldier's wife—egad how the Countess wept! Immediately upon my arrival at Bristo, I was waited on by the Laird of Finland, who told me your story, and, as Lady Dunbarton would not rest until her young protégée was at liberty, I had to bestir myself, and so—am here."

"I am deeply indebted to your dear Countess, my Lord Earl," replied Walter with glistening eyes; "I owe her a thousand favours, which I hope circumstances will never require me to repay."

"Thou art a fine fellow, Walter," replied the Earl, striking him familiarly on the shoulder; "and thine inborn goodness of heart gains and deserves the love of all who know thee. The Countess——"

"O would that I could thank her now for years of kindness and protection, when I was a poor and forlorn little boy!" exclaimed Walter with deep feeling.

"And why not, lad? a coach awaits us at the close-head, and you are a free man."

"Free! my Lord, free!"

"Free as the wind, and without a stain on thy scutcheon."

"My scutcheon," repeated Walter coldly. "Ah, my Lord, why jest with my nameless obscurity."

"Think not so ungenerously of me. The day shall come, Walter, when we may see the argent and bend azure of the old Fentounes of that ilk (I don't doubt the Lyon Herald will make thee a sprout of that ancient stock) quartered, collared, and mantled with your own personal achievements. Tush, lad! the wide world is all before you, and you have your sword. Think how many Scottish cavaliers of fortune have led the finest armies, and won the greatest battles, and the proudest titles in Europe! I have this moment come from the Council Chamber, where with half a dozen words, I have reversed all thy doom, and had it expunged from their black books."

"I would, noble Earl, that the same generosity had been extended to the Napiers of Bruntisfield."

"Nor was it withheld. What think you of that beautiful minx Annie Laurie of Maxwelton (I warrant thou knowest her—all our gay fellows do) waylaying me in her sedan. We met at the Cowgate Stairs, which ascend to the Parliament House, and there desiring her linkboys and liverymen to halt right in that narrow path, she vowed by every bone in her fan, I should never get to Council to-night—ha! ha! unless I pledged my word as a belted Earl to have her friends the Napiers pardoned as well as thee. A brave damsel, faith! and would do well to follow the drum. Zooks! I wish young Finland had her."

"And the Napiers——"

"Are pardoned; but they have fled, egad! nobody knows where. How exasperated Perth, Balcarris, and other high-flying cavaliers were by the influence I seemed to possess over the votes at the Board, having won alike the noble Claverhouse, the ferocious Dalyel, and that addlepated senator, Swinton of Mersington."

"Lord Dunbarton, I have no words to express my feelings."

"Pshaw! in all this affair I see only the meanness of the despicable world. Deeming thee a poor and friendless lad, whose whole hope was the fortune of war, and whose only inheritance a poor half-pike, these blustering Lords of Council did not hesitate to misuse thee shamefully. Here thou art immured and forgotten, until one comes, on whom they reckoned not, but who, in addition to a coronet, writes himself Knight of the Thistle, Commander of the Scottish Forces, and Colonel of a devoted regiment of fifteen hundred brave hearts as ever marched to battle, and lo! his wish is law, his breath bears all before it. Walter Fenton, have a soul above the petty injuries of lordlings such as these, and cock thy feather not a whit the less for having endured their jack-in-office frowns."

Here the Gudeman rattled his keys, and awe alone kept his constitutional impatience in check.

"And how did your Lordship overcome the hatred of Clermistonlee, my most bitter persecutor?"

"O, he is quite a devil of a fellow that! Ha! ha! He got a rapier thrust a few nights ago, which has luckily confined him to his apartments, and deprived the Council of his pleasant company and amiable advice. Ah, he is a brave fellow, too, Clermistonlee; but though an expert swordsman and accomplished cavalier, he is, withal, too much of a roué and fanfaron for my taste. And, harkee, Walter, I have one request to make ere we leave this abominable souterrain; that you will have no recourse to arms, for the severity with which as a Privy Councillor he may have treated you."

"Your Lordship's wish was ever a law to me; but if I am set upon——"

"Zounds! then spare not to thrust and slash while hand and hilt will hold together," said the Earl, as they ascended the spiral stair of the prison, preceded by the gudeman thereof, who never ceased bowing until they issued into the dark and narrow alley then named Gourlay's or Mauchane's Close. Walters heart beat joyously, and his pulse quickened as the cool night wind blew upon his blanched but flushing cheek.

"He must have been a thoroughpaced tyrant, the constructor of this den of thine, gudeman," said the Earl, surveying the prison as he handed some silver to the governor; "but I suppose we must pay largess nevertheless;" and, taking the arm of his companion, they ascended the steep alley together. "You have followed my drums now, Walter; for, let me see——"

"Since Candlemas-tide '85, my Lord."

"How, boy—for three years?"

"Ever since you defeated Argyle's troops at the Muirdykes," said Walter with a sigh.

"Hah!—is it so? I have been somewhat forgetful of thee in these bustling times, but shall make immediate amends. I have promoted many a slashed and feathered ruffler when thy quiet merit was passed unheeded. You fought under Halkett at Sedgemoor: it was a well-ordered field that, and had Lord Gray's horse properly flanked Monmouth's infantry, their Lordships of Feversham and Churchill, might have had another tale to tell at St. James's. S'death! we are likely soon to have such scenes again, for there will be a convulsion in our politics that will make and unmake many a fair name and noble patrimony."

"This is a riddle to me, my Lord."

"So much the better—my suspicions would be called treason to King James by the Lords of the Laigh Chamber. Our Scottish troops are concentrating fast round Edinburgh from the West and Borders—even our frontier garrison at Greenlaw is withdrawn here, so perhaps the Northumbrian thieves will get out their horns again, as they did in Cromwell's time after that day of shame at Dunbar. You will come with me to Bristo, of course?" continued the Earl, as they issued into that main street which runs the whole length of the old city, and was long deemed for its bustle, breadth, height, and variety of architecture the most striking in Europe.

Then it was silent and empty, for the hour was late; the countless windows of the lofty mansions which shot up to a giant height on each side, in every variety of the Scottish and Flemish tastes, with fantastic fronts, of wood or stone, turreted, corbelled and corbie-stoned, gable-ended, balconied, and bartizanned, were dark and closed, or lighted only by the silver moon which bathed one side of the street in a flood of pale white lustre, while the other was immersed in obscure and murky shadow. The long vista of the Lawnmarket was closed by the gloomy and picturesque masses of the great gothic cathedral, the façade of the Tolbooth, and the high narrow edifices of the Craimes, a street wedged curiously between St. Giles and the place now occupied by the Exchange.

A hackney-coach like a clumsy herse, one of the few introduced into Edinburgh only fifteen years before, and consequently deemed a splendid and luxurious mode of locomotion, stood at the mouth of the Pend or archway. The driver, a tall, gaunt fellow, dressed in a plain gaberdine of that coarse stuff, with which a recent Act of the Scottish Parliament compelled the humbler classes to content themselves, stood bonnet in hand by the heavy flight of steps which enabled first the Earl and then Walter to ascend into the recesses of the vehicle. The door was closed with deliberation; the driver clambered into his place on the roof, and slowly and solemnly his two horses dragged the lumbering machine up the Lawn-market, over the rough and steep causeway of which it rumbled like a vast caravan.

"We make great advances in the art of luxury, we moderns," said the Earl; "Ah! twenty years ago there was nothing of this sort! And there is that new invention, the snaphaunce-lock, which is as likely to supersede the good old match, as the screw-hilted dagger of Bayonne is to eclipse the glories of the old sweynes-feather. Were you ever in one of these Dutch conveyances before, Walter?"

"Once only, my Lord, when I accompanied Lady Dunbarton to Her Grace of Lauderdale's levee at Holyrood."

"Though our preachers inveigh bitterly against them, as dark places wherein to cloak wickedness and knavery, and in opposition uphold the good old fashions of saddles, pillions, and sedans, I think this is a pleasant and a useful contrivance withal."

"But will you be pleased to remember that my present attire is a very unfitting one for the presence of the Countess?—soiled as it is by the contaminations of that noxious vault——"

"Right, Walter—and I had forgotten that my little Lætitia is somewhat fatigued with her journey. You can pay your devoirs in the morning, and tell Finland, Gavin of that Ilk, the Chevalier Drumquhasel, and such other of my cavaliers as have arrived in the city, that we shall be glad to see them at our morning déjeûné at Bristo. I have ordered a glorious bombarde of choice canary to be set abroach; so don't forget to tell them that. But anent the Napiers," continued the earl, "they are intimate friends of yours, I presume?"

"Friends!" stammered Walter; "alas, my lord, do you think that the proud and stately old Lady of Bruntisfield, would rank a poor and obscure lad like me among her friends? Save your noble self and the Countess, I have no friends on earth—none."

"Ungrateful rogue! thou forgettest thy fifteen hundred comrades, each of whom is a friend. But by all the devils, there is a mystery in this! 'Tis quite a romance. What tempted you to run tilt against the council in this matter? No answer. It will not pass muster with me, Mr. Fenton. A pretty damoiselle is enough, I know, to tempt any young gallant to swerve from his strict line of duty. I found it so in my bachelor days. There is old Mackay of Scoury, who now commands our Scots in the service of the States'-General, openly deserted from us in Holland (when we followed the banner of Condé), and joined the enemy—for what? ha, ha! the love of a rosy little Dutch housewife, who had gained his weak side, the Lord knows how; for we Scots musqueteers considered ourselves great connoisseurs in women, wine, and horse-flesh. Apropos! of Lilian Napier—I doubt not you know where this little one is concealed."

"I do, my lord," answered Walter, with vivacity.

"Heydey! I am right, then," laughed the gay nobleman, "you got a kiss, I warrant. Point d'argent point de Suisses! as we used to say of the Swiss gendarmerie, ha, ha!"

"Thanks, and the consciousness of doing a generous act, were my sole reward."

"Very likely; but I'll leave the Countess to worm the secret out of thee. Ha, ha! 'tis very unlikely that a young spark would peril his life thus, and look only for a Carthusian's reward from a dazzling damoiselle of eighteen. Ho! I had served under Turrene, Luxembourg, and Condé, long ere I was thy age, and know well that a bright eye and ruddy lip—but here is the gate of the Upper Bow, and two fresh heads grinning on its battlement since I saw it last. Whose are they?"

"Holsterlee and some of his comrades dispersed a conventicle among the Braid hills lately."

"Poor rogues! If you do not mean to accompany me; we must part here; and in the course of to-morrow, if you know where the ladies of yonder old castle at Bruntisfield are in concealment, you will doubtless acquaint them with the decree I have obtained in their favour. But their kinsman, Quentin Napier, can neither be pardoned nor relaxed from the horn."

"'Tis well," thought Walter.

The Bow, a steep winding street that descended the southern side of the hill on which the old city stands, was then closed by a strong gate called the Upper Porte, under the shadow of which the coach stopped. On the right a heavy Flemish house projected over the street, on beams of carved wood; on the left, the house of Weir the wizard frowned its terrors across the narrow way. A sentinel opened the creaking barrier, received the nightly toll, and Walter, after bidding adieu to the generous Earl, was about to retire, when the latter called him back.

"Harkee, Fenton; you have far to go, and in these times, when soldiers are openly murdered in the streets, my rapier may be of some service should any quarrelsome ruffler cross your path; take it, for I have pistols."

"A thousand thanks, my lord," replied Walter, receiving from the Earl a long and richly chased rapier sheathed in crimson velvet.

He threw the embroidered belt over his shoulder, and strode away with a feeling of pride and elation, to find himself once more a free and armed man; while the great caravan occupied by the earl, rumbled down the windings of the narrow street with increased speed, waking all the echoes of its hollow stone staircases, and scaring those indwellers who heard them through their dreams; all sounds heard by night in the Bow being fraught with imaginary terrors, and attributed to the wandering spirit of that diabolical wizard, who a short time before had expiated his real and supposed enormities amid a blaze of tar barrels on the castle hill, and whose uninhabited mansion was then viewed with horror, as it is still with curiosity.

With a heart brimming with exultation, and glowing with anticipations of happiness, which for the time made the revolving world in all its features shine like a beautiful kaleidoscope, Walter pirouétted and danced down the Lawnmarket and through the narrow Craimes. Was it possible that but an hour ago he was so very wretched and degraded? Was it not all a dream, this new joy, a dream from which he feared to awake? Ah, thought he, one requires to have tasted the bitterness of captivity, to know the value and the glory of freedom.

Again he wore a sword, and the consciousness of bearing arms and having the spirit to use them, imparted to the cavaliers of other times a bearing, to which the gentlemen of the present age are strangers.

As the clanking wicket of the Netherbow closed behind him, the flap of a night-bird's wing caused an involuntary thrill of disgust; he looked up to the central tower of the Porte, and, faugh! a huge gled was winging away heavily from the iron spike whereon a hideous head scowled at the passers, and by the tangled locks that waved on the midnight wind around its sweltering features, Walter thought he recognised the face of the preacher, Ichabod Bummel, of whose fate he was still in ignorance. With pity and disgust he hurried on, and, without molestation or adventure, reached his quarters in the White Horse Cellar—the place where this eventful narrative commenced a few weeks before—a spacious and ancient but long-forgotten inn, situated at the bottom of a small court opening from the Canongate. Rising from a great arcade, which formed of old the Royal Mews, this edifice is now remarkable only for its antiquity and picturesque aspect, its gables of carved wood, perforated with pigeon-holes, its enormous stacks of chimneys, and curious windows on the roof. At the time of our tale, there was always a body of troops billetted there, greatly to the annoyance of Master Gibbie Runlet, the host thereof, who found them neither the most peaceful nor profitable occupants of his premises.

CHAPTER XIV.

WALTER AND LILIAN.

She's here! yet O! my tongue is at a loss;
Teach me, some power, that happy art of speech,
To dress my purpose up in gracious words,
Such as may softly steal upon her soul.

The whole of the next day passed ere Walter Fenton found time to visit the fugitives; he was anxious to be the first bearer of the good tidings confided to him by the Earl, and luckily intelligence did not travel very fast in those days. In Edinburgh there was but one occasional broadsheet or newspaper, "The Kingdoms Intelligencer," and a house situated a mile or two from the city wall, was deemed a day's journey, distant among wood, rocks, and water. Thus the rural residences of the Napiers, Lord Clermistonlee, Sir John Toweris of Inverleith, Sir Patrick Walker, of Coates, and others, were situated in places over which the busy streets and crowded squares of the extended city have spread like the work of magic.

Walter had some difficulty in discovering the exact locality of Elsie's cottage, which was situated among a labyrinth of haw and privet hedges, and consequently the evening was far advanced before he presented himself at her humble abode, and caused the consternation described in a preceding chapter.

"I must speak instantly with those who are concealed here," said he; "I am a friend of the Lady Bruntisfield—the bearer of most happy tidings."

"I think I should know your voice," said Hab, still deliberating, and puffing at his match.

"And I thine, Halbert Elshender; I am one of Lord Dunbarton's men."

"Welcome, Mr. Fenton!" exclaimed Hab, undoing the door briskly; "I wish you much joy of being out of yonder devilish scrape."

"How are you back so soon, Hab? By my faith, I thought you were browbeating the westland Whigs, and roystering at free quarters among the stiffnecked carles of Clydesdale."

"And so we were, sir, for three blessed weeks. Cocks' nails! ilka man was lord and master, and mair of the billet he had, loundering the gudeman, kissing the gudewife, and eating the best in cellar and ambrie, and then settling the lawing with a flash of a bare blade or a roll on the drum, as Finland and yourself have dune too. But hech! things are likely to be otherwise; it's a bad sign when the nonconformist bodies begin to cock their bonnets in face of the king's soldiers, as they are doing now."

"Ay, 'tis thought there will be the devil to pay between King James and the English, who were ever jealous of the Stuart rule. The Ladies of Bruntisfield are here, are they not?"

"Maybe sae, and maybe nae," replied Hab cunningly, still keeping his match cocked.

"How!" asked Walter, frowning, upon which Elsie cried in great alarm,

"Eh, sirs,—Hab, Hab, ye gomeral, speak the gentleman fair."

"To be plain, Mr. Fenton," asked Halbert bluntly, "came ye here as friend or foe?"

"A late question, when I am within arm's length of you. Halbert Elshender, I pledge my honour I am here in honest friendship."

"And quite alone, sir?'

"The deuce! Sirrah, I am as you see," responded Walter impatiently. "Mistress Lilian is here, and her noble kinswoman too, I doubt not."

Hab winked knowingly, and knocked on the panels of the vast girnel, the front of which he opened, and the two fugitives forth stepped, pale and agitated. The first sight of Walter's military garb startled them; but bowing profoundly, he said, in the formal fashion of the time,

"Lady Bruntisfield, your most obedient humble servant—Mistress Lilian, yours."

"Your servant, sir," muttered the ladies, and they all bowed to each other three several times. Lilian blushed deeply.

"Ah," said Walter, "I have then the happiness to be remembered."

Lady Grisel, on adjusting her spectacles, immediately recognized him, and held out her hand with a smile, in which hauteur, kindness, and timidity were curiously blended.

"Welcome, young gentleman; though our fortunes are somewhat clouded now, I rejoice their shadow has not long blighted yours, and I congratulate you on your restoration to liberty."

"And I, in turn, wish you every joy at a sudden change of fortune. The decrees of Council are reversed; your lands, your liberty, your coat armorial, are restored, and you are free to return to the ancestral dwelling of your family whenever it pleases you; to cast aside for ever that humble attire, though, believe me, fair Lilian, it never appeared to me so graceful or charming as at this moment."

Again Lilian blushed deeply; her bright eyes were full of inquiry and expression; her cherry mouth, half open, displayed the whiteness of her firm little teeth, and she never appeared so fascinating to Walter as, when laying her hand gently on his arm, she said,

"Ah, Mr. Fenton, is this indeed true?"

Of its truth the old lady appeared to have some doubts. She remained for a few moments silent and motionless. Her first thought was one of rapture; her second of surprise and distrust, for might not this be a wile of Clermistonlee? might not the price of the young man's liberty be their betrayal to the Council? But no! she suppressed the ungenerous thought, when, bending her keen eyes on Walter, she read the openness and candour expressed in his handsome face.

"This is indeed a reverse! O what joy!" she exclaimed; "and yet 'tis strange," she added, striking her cane with great energy on the clay floor; "very strange withal, that no macer, usher, herald, or deputation of Council hath come to me with intimation hereof. This is marvellous discourtesy in the Earl of Perth, to a dame of honour, who hath had the privilege of the tabouret before the Queens of France and Britain. Young man, were you specially commissioned to tell me this happy intelligence?"

"Not exactly," said Walter, colouring in turn; "but it is so pleasant to be the herald of joy, that I am glad another has not anticipated me. Indeed, as the reversal of your sentence was publicly proclaimed at the cross this forenoon, by the Albany Herald and Unicorn pursuivant, with tabard and trumpet, I am astonished you have not heard of it. But honest Hab's reluctance to admit me—"

"O teach me to be thankful," exclaimed Lady Grisel, raising her bright grey eyes and clasped hands to Heaven; "to be grateful for this great and singular mercy! Then all our persecution is over?"

"My dear madam, it is so, and for ever."

Another burst of acclamation from Hab shook the cottage, and he kissed Meinie again in the excess of his exultation.

"O nurse Elsie, my dream is read," said Lady Grisel. "Last night I thought I saw Sir Archibald's favourite horse—ye mind his auld trooper, spotless Snawdrift. A white steed, ye know, Elsie, betokens intelligence; and his being spurgalled shewed it would be speedy. His saddle was girth uppermost—"

"Whilk boded luck, and never mair may it leave the house o' Bruntisfield, thanks to the battling Lord!" said Elsie, piously.

"I am unused to receive boons," said the stately dame; "but would be glad to know to what or to whom the house of Napier is indebted for this signal favour of fortune."

"To my generous Lord and Colonel, the princely Dunbarton, whom God long preserve! Here are the pardon and reversed decree of forfeiture; I received them from his countess, who desired me to bear them to you with her best regards."

"O, Mr. Fenton!" exclaimed Lady Grisel, whose artificial pride now quite gave way before the natural warmth and gratitude of her heart. And her broad silver barnacles became dim with tears as she received the documents which bore the well-flourished signature, "Perth, Cancellarius," and the seal of Council. "God knows, good youth," she continued, pressing Walter's hand in her's, "that if I repined much at the sad occurrences of the last few weeks, it was for the sake of this fair child alone. Alake! at her age to be thrown into poverty and obscurity were to die a living death—but now—" Lilian, in a transport of tears and joy, threw her arms around her aged relative and kissed her.

"Poverty and obscurity!" thought poor Walter; "How can I dare to love a being so far above me, when these are all I have to share with her?"

With her snood unbound and her bright hair flying in beautiful disorder, the lively girl rushed from Elsie to Meinie alternately kissing and embracing them, till honest Hab began to rub his mouth with his cuff in expectation of the favour going round; and in her girlish delight, she seemed a thousand times more charming than when clad in her long stomacher, and compelled to imitate Lady Grisel's starched decorum and old-fashioned stateliness of demeanour.

"Ah, good Heavens," she suddenly exclaimed, "we are quite forgetting poor cousin Quentin."

"The deuce take cousin Quentin!" thought Walter, and he hastened to inform her that the Council had resolved to cut the Captain into joints the moment they could lay hands on him.

Meinie, whose cakes had long since been scorched to a cinder, now gave Hab a box on the ear, and retreating from him with a pout of rustic coquetry, placed several three-legged stools near the fire, around which they seated themselves by desire of Lady Grisel, herself occupying the great elbow-chair, against which her tall walking-cane was placed by Elsie with great formality. The venerable cottager was very lavish in her praises of Walter, for whom, as the bearer of such good tidings, she felt a cordial admiration; and, heedless of Lilian's confusion, continued to whisper it in her ear.