THE 
 
 LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
EDINBURGH : 
 PRINTED BY JAMES BAI.LANTYNE AND CO. 
 
THE 
 
 LAST OF THE LAIRDS 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE LIFE AND OPINIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 MALACHI MAILINGS, ESQ. 
 
 OF AULDBIGGINGS. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 ANNALS OF THE PARISH, THE ENTAIL, ETC. 
 
 " What's the Laird doing, Jock ?" 
 
 " Doing ! what should he be doing ! but sitting on his ain 
 louping-on stane and glowring frae him ?" 
 
 Sage Sayings of Jock the. Laird's Man. 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH : AND 
 
 T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON. 
 
 M.DCCC.XXVI. 
 
THK 
 
 LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE Mailings have long occupied a distinguish- 
 ed place in the laws and annals of Scotland. 
 That they were of Celtic origin many learned 
 antiquaries shrewdly suspect, nor are we dispo- 
 sed to controvert the opinion ; although it must 
 be allowed they have never been without a taint 
 of Saxon blood in their veins, being from time 
 immemorial regarded as of intimate propinquity 
 with the Pedigrees, whose eminent merits and 
 great actions are so worthily celebrated in the 
 of venerable virginity. 
 
 M569829 
 
2 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 In what part of the country they first struck 
 their inextricable roots would now be hard to 
 tell ; but the forefathers of Malachi had, from 
 unrecorded epochs, flourished in the barony of 
 Killochen, a fertile and pleasant tract of Ren- 
 frewshire, and it is meet that we should describe 
 their habitation. 
 
 The mansion-house of Auldbiggings was a 
 multiform aggregate of corners, and gables, and 
 chimneys. In one respect it resembled the mas- 
 ter-piece of Inigo Jones Heriot's Work at 
 Athens no two windows were alike, and seve- 
 ral of them, from the first enactment of the duty 
 on light, had been closed up, save where here 
 and there a peering hole with a single pane equi- 
 vocated with the statute and the tax-gatherer. 
 The pete-stones, or by whatever name the scalar 
 ornaments of the gables may be known, those 
 seeming stairs, collinear with the roof, peculiar 
 to our national architecture, were frequented 
 by numerous flocks of pigeons. The invention, 
 indeed, of that species of ornament, is a fine 
 monumental trait of the hospitality of our an- 
 cestors, who, while they were themselves re- 
 velling in the hall, after their Border joys of 
 
CHAPTER I. 3 
 
 speed and spoil, thus kindly provided conve- 
 nient places, where their doves, when return- 
 ing home heavy and over-fed, with foraging 
 on their neighbours' corn-fields, might repose, 
 and fatten for spit or pie, in unmolested equa^- 
 nimity. 
 
 Appended to the mansion, but somewhat of 
 lower and ruder structure, was a desultory mass 
 of shapeless buildings the stable, sty, barn, 
 and byre, with all the appurtenances properly 
 thereunto belonging, such as peat-stack, dung- 
 hill, and coal-heap, with a bivouacry of invalided 
 utensils, such as bottomless boyns, headless bar- 
 rels, and brushes maimed of their handles to 
 say nothing of the body of the cat which the 
 undealt-with packman's cur worried on Satur- 
 day se'enight. At the far end was the court- 
 house, in which, when the day happened to be 
 wet, the poultry were accustomed to murmur 
 their sullen and envious whiggery against the 
 same weather which made their friends the ducks 
 as garrulous with enjoyment at the midden- 
 hole, as Tories in the pools of corruption. But 
 so it is with all of this world ; the good or evil 
 
4 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 of whatsoever comes to pass, lieth in the sense 
 by which the accident affects us. 
 
 The garden was suitable to the offices and 
 the mansion. It was surrounded, but not inclo- 
 sed, by an undressed hedge, which in more than 
 fifty places offered tempting admission to the 
 cows. The luxuriant grass walks were never 
 mowed but just before hay time, and every stock 
 of kail and cabbage stood in its garmentry of 
 curled blades, like a new-made Glasgow bai- 
 lie's wife on the first Sunday after Michaelmas, 
 dressed for the kirk in the many-plies of all her 
 flounces. Clumps of apple-ringgie, daisies and 
 Dutch-admirals, marigolds and nonsopretties, 
 jonquils and gillyflowers, with here and there 
 a peony, a bunch of gardeners-garters, a sun- 
 flower or an orange-lily, mingled their elegant 
 perfumes and delicate flourishes along the bor- 
 ders. The fruit-trees were of old renown ; none 
 grew sweeter pears ; and if the apples were not 
 in co-rival estimation with the palate, they were 
 yet no less celebrated for the rural beauty of 
 their red cheeks. It is true, that the cherries 
 v re dukes, but the plumbs were magnum- 
 
 inums. 
 
CHAPTER I. 5 
 
 Where the walks met, *tood a gnomenlesg 
 dial ; opposite to which, in a honey-suckle bower, 
 a white-painted seat invited the Laird's visitors 
 of a sentimental turn to read Hervey's Medita- 
 tions in a Flower-garden ; and there, in the still 
 moonlight nights, in the nightingale-singing sea- 
 sou of southern climes, you might overhear one 
 of the servant lasses keckling with her sweet- 
 heart. But it is time to approach the house, and 
 make our way towards the inmates. 
 
 On approaching the door, and applying your 
 hand to the knocker, you catch a broken key 
 hanging by a string from the lion's mouth. The 
 ring was wrenched away at the time of the auld 
 laird's burial by Sparkinhawse, the drowthy 
 portioner, of Drycraigs, when he was coming 
 out from the dirgie, to try if he could find the 
 road to his own home ; but, nevertheless, by the 
 key, or your knuckle, you make a noise, which, 
 after being repeated some three or four times, 
 causes the door to open, when either one of the 
 lasses looks from behind it, and says, " What's 
 your wull and pleasure ?" or Jock, the Laird's 
 man, comes forth, and leaning his shoulder 
 against the door-cheek, looks in your face till 
 
THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 you have propounded your interrogation* On 
 the present occasion it is Jenny Clatterpans, 
 the kitchen-lass, and, as usual, snodless, snood- 
 less, and shodless, who answers to the sum- 
 mons. 
 
 Jenny was not altogether just such an amia- 
 ble and nymphantine being as the moral master 
 of Lights and Shadows has discovered, glowing 
 and gleaming in the poetical regions of Scottish 
 life; but a substantial armful of those virtues 
 and graces, which, in the shape of well-fleshed, 
 clear-skinned, sonsy, and hardy queans, may be 
 seen, with their legs bared above the knee, 
 trampling in washing-tubs, at the open burn- 
 side, or haply, with the handle of an old spade, 
 pursuing forth from the kail-yard a maraud- 
 ing cow, or engaged in some of those other voca- 
 tions of rural or pastoral drudgery, which are 
 equally natural and prosaical. In truth, Jenny 
 had more of a thorough-going havrelism about 
 her, than of that fond and fine otherism, so in- 
 teresting in the heroines of romance. She was 
 neither particular in her attire, nor methodical 
 in her work, and her words were unculled in 
 short, she was a wench likely to be brought to 
 
CHAPTER J. 7 
 
 book without much blushing. But we forget 
 our duty, and have not yet answered to her 
 " wull and pleasure," though she has opened 
 the door, and has dropped behind her the hearth- 
 brush she happened to have in her hand, when 
 our summons was sounded. 
 
 Having inquired for the Laird, Jenny replies, 
 
 " Deed, sir, he's no right." 
 
 " Ay, Jenny, Pm sorry for that what ails 
 him?" 
 
 " Ails ! I canna say mickle's the matter wi' 
 him, poor bodie, but he's dwining, and he's no 
 ill either trowth, ony ha'd o' health he has, is 
 aye at meal-time, and yet he puts a' in an ill 
 skin." 
 
 " Is he confined to his room, Jenny ?" 
 
 " Room, sir ! neither a doctor nor a doze o' 
 physic would keep him intil his room." 
 
 " Indeed ! Then he must be greatly altered 5 
 Jenny ; for he was rather always of a sedentary 
 turn." 
 
 " That's a' ye ken about him, he's a busy 
 man." 
 
 Busy, Jenny !" 
 
 "Ay, sir, dreadful! He's putting out a 
 
b THE LAST QF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 book Loke, sir, if he's no putting out a book ! 
 O that wearyfu' jaunt to Embro' to see the 
 King ! It has skail't the daunert wits o' the mas- 
 ter the like o' you and the minister may put 
 out books, but surely the 'stated gentry hae 
 come to a low pass indeed, when they would file 
 their fingers wi' ony sic black art !" 
 
 " And what is this book about, Jenny ?" 
 
 ." Na, that's a question amang divines, sir ; ye 
 may speer, and I may say yea or nay, but what 
 will't make you the wiser ?" 
 
 " True, Jenny, I'll never dispute that ; but is 
 Mr Mailings not visible ?" 
 
 Veesible, sir !" 
 
 " May I not see him?" 
 
 " What for should ye no see him ? At this 
 precious moment of God's time, ye may see him 
 writing his book through the key-hole." 
 
 " Through the key-hole, Jenny ! no pos- 
 sible ? I never heard of a man writing a book 
 through a key-hole." 
 
 " Weel, weel, sir, no to summer and winter 
 on idioticals, or sic like matters o' fact the 
 Laird told me, that he would na be at hame to 
 a living soul in the king's three kingdoms; 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 'cause he was inditing his book ; the which I 
 thought was I'll no just say it was a lee; but 
 if it wasna a lee, it was surely very like it ; and 
 therefore, sir, though the master said it was an 
 innocent deplomatical, I hae a notion that it was 
 cousin, and sib to the first-born of Satan, the 
 whilk is Untruth." 
 
 This colloquy with Jenny greatly disturbed 
 our wonted philosophical composure. The 
 Laird ! Malachi Mailings, writing a book, was 
 a marvel most indigestible ; for although he had 
 become of late years somewhat addicted to 
 reading, particularly of the Newspapers, and 
 the Edinburgh Review, which he borrowed from 
 me, about a month after publication, the idea of 
 the inspiring mantle dropping down about his 
 shoulders, surprised me as with the amazement 
 of a new creation, and under the excitement of 
 the moment, pushing Jenny aside, I hastened to 
 his parlour. 
 
10 THE LAST OF THE LAIIIDS. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 ON entering the Laird's apartment, I was 
 struck with several changes, additions, and im- 
 provements, in the appearance of the room, the 
 consequence of his visit to Edinburgh. For the 
 old map of Europe, which from the days of his 
 grandsire had hung over the mantle-piece, and 
 which time had tarnished into a brown and 
 yellow illegibility, a new one of the two hemi- 
 spheres was exhibited, with a portrait of the 
 King on the one side, and of the Duke of Wel- 
 lington on th other. The most conspicuous 
 object, however, was a handsome leather cover- 
 ed library chair, in which he was sitting at a 
 table with books and papers and the other im- 
 plements of writing before him, like an Edin- 
 burgh advocate warsling with the law. 
 
 He was apparelled in a dressing-gown, which 
 had evidently been economically made out of 
 
CHAPTER II. 11 
 
 two of his deceased lady's flagrant chintz gowns 
 of dissimilar patterns. His head was adorned 
 with a blue velvet cap, wadded and padded not 
 only to supersede the use of his wig, but even 
 to be warm enough to cause a germination of 
 fancies, if ideas could be raised by anything 
 like the compost in which gardeners force exo- 
 tics. 
 
 As I entered he pushed up his spectacles 
 upon his forehead, and raising his eyes from 
 the paper on which he was writing, threw him- 
 self back in the chair, and looked not altogether 
 quite satisfied at being so interrupted. 
 
 After the interchange of a few preliminary 
 strictures on the weather on both sides, I began 
 to inquire what he thought of the King, and how 
 he had been pleased with his jaunt to Edin- 
 burgh. 
 
 " For the King," replied the Laird, " I never 
 looked for a particular civility at his hands, 
 though I have been a Justice of the Peace for 
 the shire more than fifteen years, and was more- 
 over of great service to his crown and dignity, 
 as one of the officers of the first crop of volun- 
 teers. But yon's a pleasant place, yon toun of 
 
12 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Embro* ; and the literawty are just real curiosi- 
 ties, and a' philosophers, the whole tot of them. 
 I had an e'e in my neck when I was among 
 them ; and maybe some of them shall hear tell 
 o't before long." And he glanced his eyes sig- 
 nificantly towards the papers before him. 
 
 " Indeed, Laird ! and which of them have 
 you seen ?" said I, desirous of hearing his opi- 
 nion of persons so self-celebrated ; but instead 
 of heeding my question, he continued 
 
 " It's jny persuasion, however, that there's 
 a state o' matters yonder in great need of a re- 
 formation. But it's my intent and purpose to 
 show the consequence of making men of family 
 functy offeeshy." 
 
 " What, Laird ? making men of family 
 what?" 
 
 " Cutting them off by sic legalities as writers 
 to the signet, and advocates, and critics, frae the 
 power of begetting a posterity." 
 
 The Laird was in this a little beyond my 
 depth, and I could only rejoin somewhat sim- 
 ply, " And how is it, Laird, you intend to make 
 out all that ?" 
 
 " Am I no writing my biography my own 
 
CHAPTER II. 13 
 
 life wherein the grievance will be made most 
 manifest ?" 
 
 " Your life, Laird ! What can there be in 
 your life to record ? The holly-bush before the 
 door has, I should think, had almost as many 
 adventures." 
 
 He was plainly piqued at my remark; but 
 he replied, chuckling with the consciousness of 
 being witty, 
 
 u No man in his senses would ever expect to 
 see an ignoramus bush, far less a doddered 
 holly-bush, take up a pen to write a book 
 Branches are not hands No, no no, no." 
 
 To an observation at once so pertinent and 
 unanswerable, I could only say, in a subdued 
 tone, that I had no doubt his Memoirs would be 
 highly instructive and interesting. 
 
 " It's to be a standard work," was his calm 
 and modestly expressed reply ; " and the like 
 o't has been long wanted ; for if a stop is not 
 soon put to the growth and increase of the con- 
 spiracy that I have discovered, there's no telling 
 what our gentry will be brought to/' 
 
 " Conspiracy, Laird what conspiracy? and 
 discovered by you.! I should as soon have ex- 
 
14 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 pected to hear you had discovered the longitude 
 or the philosopher's stone, as anything of the 
 sort." 
 
 " And is't no the proven fact, that, what 
 with the government at the one end with the 
 taxes, and the lahourous folk at the other with 
 their wages, the incomes of our 'stated gentry is 
 just like a candle lighted at both ends ?" 
 
 " I see, I see, Laird, you have been among the 
 Political Economists who have neither honour 
 for the rich, nor charity for the poor." 
 
 For the space of a minute or so he looked at 
 me eagerly and suspiciously, and then raising 
 himself into an erect posture, said emphatically, 
 
 " No man stands in need of a reason to con- 
 vince him of the animosity of a rhinoceros do 
 you admit that ?" 
 
 " For the sake of argument," said I, " the 
 proposition may be allowed." 
 
 ' Na," said he, falling back in his chair, and 
 spreading out his arms at the same time in the 
 attitude of an astonishment in marble, " If ye 
 deny a first principle, it is of no use to pursue 
 the argument." 
 
 That the Laird had indeed been among the 
 
CHAPTER II. 15 
 
 Athenian philosophers, could no longer be doubt- 
 ed ; and that he had in consequence suffered a 
 material change in the habits of his mind, was 
 equally evident. Before the visit to Edinburgh, 
 he was seemingly the easiest of mankind more 
 like a creature made of wool than of clay ; such, 
 indeed, was the sleepy quietude of his nature, 
 that except when stirred by some compulsion of 
 business, or obligation, nothing seemed capable 
 of molesting his tranquillity. But when molest- 
 ed rare as were such occasions he was testy, 
 snappish, and self-willed ; and the little spurts 
 of temper in which he then indulged, betrayed 
 the spirit of controversy which was slumbering 
 within him, and which, in the vicissitudes of 
 things, it was not improbable events might oc- 
 cur to rouse and call forth. I was, therefore, 
 much less surprised at his propugnacity than 
 at the course his opinions had taken ; and be- 
 coming more solicitous to see what he had writ- 
 ten, than to continue the controversy, I said 
 " But in what manner, Laird, have you shown 
 the existence of this alleged conspiracy between 
 the government and the people, to overthrow tlie 
 
16 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 ancient gentry of his Majesty's hereditary king- 
 dom?" 
 
 " Is na there the changes in the value of mo- 
 ney ? I can assure you that I have well consi- 
 dered this portion of the bullion question." 
 
 " I should like," said I, with all possible gra- 
 vity, " to hear your opinion of the bullion ques- 
 tion of course, you examine the causes that 
 affect the circulating medium and originate the 
 agricultural distress ?" 
 
 " The circulating curse it's as clear a tax of 
 five per cent on our income, as the five and ten 
 deevelry of the war." 
 
 " But, no doubt, you have exposed it proper- 
 ly, and in its true colours will you have the 
 goodness to read what you have said upon the 
 subject ? for it is a subject which comes home 
 to the business and bosoms of us all. Five per 
 cent ! really, Laird, you surprise me I never 
 imagined it was so much." 
 
 " No man can maintain that it's one farthing 
 less for, since the coming out of the sovereigns, 
 and the crying down of the old honest coin of 
 the realm, both in the price of horse and horn- 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER II. 17 
 
 cattle, a mulct of a full shilling in the pound has 
 been inflicted on the whole agricultural interest." 
 
 " And where does that shilling go to, Laird ?" 
 
 " Where ? but to the bottomless pit, the pouch 
 o' government that they call the sinking fund ; 
 and is that no a depreciation ?" 
 
 " Not to interrupt you, Laird," said I, " but 
 how does the change in the money affect your 
 income ?" 
 
 " How ! I'll show you how is na small coin 
 the evidence of cheap labour ; and when labour 
 is cheap, has not a man of rental the mair to 
 hain for lying money ? But the sight o' a far- 
 thing now-a-days is good for sair een; it's no to be 
 met wi', but now and then in the shape of a blot 
 in a town grocer's 'count, made out by his pren- 
 tice in the first quarter of the school-laddie's 
 time. It was a black day for Scotland that saw 
 the Union signed, for on that day the pound 
 sterling came in among our natural coin, and, 
 like Moses' rod, swallow't up at ae gawpe, plack, 
 bodle, mark, and bawbie, by the which mony a 
 blithe ranting roaring ^rental of langsyne has 
 dwinet and dwinlet into the hungry residue of a 
 wadset." 
 
18 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " But, Laird, without calling in question the 
 correctness of your historical observation, I am 
 at some loss to understand how it happened you 
 have been moved to write your life ?" 
 
 He made no immediate reply, but, leaning 
 forward with a particularly knowing look, he 
 said, in a half whisper, 
 
 " I'll tell you a secret it's to pay off one of 
 my heritable bonds. That silly auld havering 
 creature, Balwhidder o' Dalmailing, got a thou- 
 sand pounds sterling, doun on Blackwood's 
 counter, in red gold, for his clishmaclavers ; 
 and Provost Pawkie's widow has had twice the 
 dooble o't, they say, for the Provost's life. Now, 
 if a minister got sae muckle for his life, and a 
 provost twice the dooble for his, I'm thinking a 
 'stated gentleman should surely get a brave pen- 
 ny for the like wark." 
 
 " I will not dispute your logic, Laird; but 
 where are the materials for your, life to be 
 found?" 
 
 " Here and there," he exclaimed in exulta- 
 tion, striking, at the same time, his breast and 
 forehead; adding, " No man, unless he writes 
 
CHAPTER II. 19 
 
 from his own brains and bis own bosim, need 
 put pen to paper." 
 
 I assented to the justness of the observation ; 
 and, after ingratiating myself as well as I could 
 into his confidence, he, in the end, invited me 
 to stay dinner, and promised, as an indemnity 
 for my consenting, that he would entertain me 
 " with a feast of reason and a flow of saul" a 
 temptation too strong, and too exquisite, as 
 served up by him, to be resisted. 
 
20 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 . 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE Laird's work consisted of about half-a- 
 dozen small copy books, such as schoolboys are 
 in the practice of using, two or three of them 
 with marble covers ; on one I observed a parrot, 
 and on another the ruins of Palmyra. The pen- 
 manship was not very legible ; it was narrow, 
 crampt, and dotty, and the orthography made 
 me pause at the first sentence. 
 
 " Ye're troubled wi' my hand o' write," said 
 he, " and deed I must own it's no a schoolmais- 
 ter's, but wi' a thought o' pains ye '11 soon be able 
 to read it." 
 
 " I think, Laird, I could make my way with 
 the writing, but the spelling is not for a man in 
 haste." 
 
 ^ " Ye may weel say that no man can spell 
 wi' Johnny Sellblethers the town-bookseller's 
 pens the bodie had ne'er a christian-like ane 
 
CHAPTER III. 21 
 
 in his aught ; and I can assure you, that an ill 
 pen is baith a crabbit and a fashions implement 
 I now speak from experience ; and I hae had 
 words wi' him concerning his pens but the 
 creature has no a mouthfu o' sense he's a thing 
 that has nae mair sense nor that bottle that 
 bottle did I say ? he has nae mair sense nor 
 that fender." 
 
 Upon some farther inspection of the manu- 
 script, I saw, as the Laird had justly remarked, 
 that by and by, with some pains, I should be 
 able to make my way through it, in spite of the 
 penmanship, even too of the orthography, but the 
 matter was more difficult to manage than either. 
 It was not a continued and methodical narrative, 
 but consisted of detached notes and memoranda, 
 somewhat like Lord Byron's unpublished Bio- 
 graphical Dictionary ; instead, however, of rela- 
 ting to things and accidents which had befallen 
 himself, they were entirely made up of reflections 
 on the price of grain and cattle denunciations 
 against wages and taxes, ill-paid rents, and all 
 the other evils which agricultural distress is heir 
 to, with here and there an incidental note, such 
 as " my mother died this year, and her burial cost 
 
22 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 me a power of money the coffin was more than 
 five pounds, but it was very handsome;" or, c< ob- 
 ligated to roup out John Lownlan's widow a 
 clamorous woman that." Whether these were in 
 the first or second of his books, I do not exactly 
 recollect ; but I could not help remarking, that 
 although the world would justly appreciate the 
 value of his information, I was yet apprehensive 
 the critics would expect some account of his fa- 
 mily before he entered on the matter of his own 
 life and opinions. His reason for having omit- 
 ted it was most satisfactory. 
 
 " It would hae been a right down wastrie o' 
 time and paper ; and the need o' writing about 
 my progenitors is not an indispensable. Has na 
 our family been a family o' note that's an ocu- 
 lar fact in history frae afore the ragman's roll ? 
 But if ye think the laws o' the Republic o' Let- 
 ters call for an account at my hands, I'll no be 
 weighed in the balance and found wanting." 
 
 " To be frank and friendly with you, Laird, 
 the laws of the Republic of Letters certainly 
 do require that your book should begin with 
 some account of the family before you were 
 born, and it should likewise tell us something 
 
CHAPTER III. 23 
 
 of your mother's family. It was not, I believe, 
 of the same degree as the Mailings ?" 
 
 " It's no an easy task," replied the Laird, with 
 a sigh, " to write a history book that will please 
 everybody ; but as to my mother, she was come 
 o' pedigree blood, though, it may be said, no just 
 the degree o* our family's." 
 
 " Who was she ?" said I. 
 
 " Her father," resumed the Laird, " was Cus- 
 tocks of Kailyards, an ancient and as weel kent 
 a race as ony within the four quarters o* the 
 realm ; she was a co-heiress, and her name was 
 Barbara Moss o' Peats was married intil her 
 uterine sister, Martha, the other co-heiress o' 
 Kailyards : and they had issue, a son, Ramplor 
 Moss, begotten of her body, meaning the body 
 o j aunty Marthy ; and he, being a captain in the 
 king's army, gamblet his property wi' riotous 
 living in foreign lands, till it came to be sold by 
 a decreet o j Court : and so through him there 
 was an end o' that branch o' my mother's fa- 
 mily" 
 
 " All this, Laird," said I, " is most impor- 
 tant and interesting And so your father mar- 
 
24 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 ried one of the co-heiresses o 7 Kailyards and 
 what then ?" 
 
 " And what then ! am not I the fruit and 
 issue o' that marriage, in the male line ? But, 
 poor man, he wasna sparet to beget a better." 
 
 " That," replied I, " is much to be regretted, 
 greatly, indeed ; but I always heard he died ear- 
 ly, and in very melancholy circumstances." 
 
 " As to his dying early, I'll no say it's a' 
 truth, for he was weel stricken in the fifties be- 
 fore his espousal o' my mother ; but his latter 
 end was an event to be held in remembrance ; 
 oh, sir, it was a memento mori." 
 
 " Then you have neglected," said I, " by not 
 describing it in your book, an occasion on which 
 you might have given the world a fine impressive 
 moral lesson." 
 
 " I am very sorry to hae been sae neglectfu', 
 if ye think sae," replied the Laird. 
 
 " Indeed you have been much to blame ; and, 
 considering your talents, I must say you have 
 hidden your candle under a bushel, Laird. 
 How did your father happen to die ?" 
 
 " It's a heavy tale ; but it came to pass after 
 
CHAPTER III. 25 
 
 this manner : ye see he was ane of the Langsyne 
 Club, that some threescore Yules bygane had its 
 howf in a public in the town, keepit by a wife 
 that was by name Luckie Gawsie and he was 
 a man (meaning my father) o' a pleasantrie in 
 company, as I have often heard the late Spark- 
 inhawse o'Drycraigs tell; mony a sooh and sappy 
 night they had wi' ane anither : there was na a 
 blither bike o' drowthy neibours in a' the shire ; 
 Quaigh o' Plunkcorkie was the preses, and Lug- 
 gie o' Dramkegthe croupier. But mirth and me- 
 lancholy are the twins o' mortality walking 
 hand in hand, to and fro', roaring like lions seek- 
 ing whom they may devour heh, sirs, that night 
 they visited the public o' Luckie Gawsie weel 
 may I recollect what Sparkinhawse told me ; it 
 was wi' the tear in his e'e, for he was a warm- 
 hearted bodie. We had been squeezing the sides o' 
 the gardevin, and neither o' us were then fasting, 
 but baith jocose, the whilk, as he said, put him 
 in mind o' the auld langsyne. ' Laird/ quo' he 
 we were sitting in Luckie Gawsie's back room, 
 wi' her tappit hen o' claret wine on the table, 
 according to the use and wont o' the club, and 
 Luggie o' Dramkeg was singing the Gaberloonie 
 
26 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 like a nightingale oh, he was a deacon at a 
 pawky sang^-I use his ain words," said the 
 Laird. 
 
 " And what happened ?" 
 
 " What happened ! Drycraigs, in the "way of 
 a peradventure, some short time after the sang, 
 gied a glimpse out o'er the table at my father, 
 and seeing something no canny in his glower, 
 said to the preses, * Plunkcorkie,' said he, ' I'm 
 thinking Auldbiggings is looking unco gash.' 
 * Gash !' quo' Plunkcorkie, 6 nae wonder, he's 
 been dead this half hour ; his e'en flew up and 
 his lip fell down just as Dramkeg was singing 
 the verse about the courting at the fire-side ; and 
 was I to spoil a gude sang for the likes o' him ? 
 so when it was done, through an accidence of 
 memory, I forgot to tell you o' the poplexy. 
 But,' continued Plunkcorkie, as Drycraigs told 
 me, ' now that it's noticed, we, for a decency, 
 must get the corpse ta'en hame to its ain house.' 
 Whereupon they all raise frae their seats, said 
 Drycraigs. Was na that a moving sight ? and 
 they filled lippies, and in solemn silence drank 
 their auld frien' for the last time ; and Quaigh o' 
 Plunkcorkie, the preses, held a glass to my fa- 
 
CHAPTER III. 27 
 
 tlier's mouth, but he couldna taste, which was a 
 sure sign he was a dead man ; whereupon they 
 all fell to the greeting with the hearts o' men, 
 mourning in affliction." 
 
 I exerted myself to the utmost to sympathize 
 with the Laird during this affecting description 
 of the langsyne nights of claret in tappit hens, 
 and my endeavours were of necessity redoubled 
 by his moral reflections on the occasion. 
 
 " But," said he, " as one door steeks another 
 opens, and my father's death brought me into 
 the world mair than two moons afore the com- 
 mon course of nature ; for ye see, when my mo- 
 ther, through the mist o' a grey March morning, 
 heard a sound coming towards the house, and 
 lookit out at her window, she discern't the three 
 fou lairds bringing her dead gudeman hame 
 Drycraigs and Dramkeg were harling the body 
 through the mire by the oxsters, his head dang- 
 ling o'er his breast like an ill-sewed-on button 
 Plunkcorkie, the preses o' the club, was follow- 
 ing in a sorrowfu' condition, carrying my fa- 
 ther's wig and his hat, and one of his boots that 
 had come off, no man could tell how, as they 
 were hauling the corpse along the road; and 
 
28 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Drycraigs told me that poor man, Plunkcorkie, 
 was so demented wi' grief, that when he came 
 into the house he had the shank o j the very glass 
 in his hand he had held to his old Men's lips, 
 which, you must allow, was a very touching 
 thing." 
 
 " And when they brought home the Laird, 
 what was done ?" 
 
 " Done ! muckle was done does na every- 
 body ken I'm a seven-month's bairn, the which 
 is the cause of my weakliness, and has been o' 
 the greatest detriment to me a' my days ; because 
 had I no been sae defective wi' infirmity, I might 
 hae been walking the Parliament House o' Edin- 
 burgh, wi' a blue shaloon pock to baud fees 
 but a want is no a fault." 
 
 " Very true, Laird," said I ; " what you say 
 is a most sagacious remark but if by reason of 
 any innate weakliness of faculty you have been 
 kept from the bar, the world may have no cause 
 to rue the loss of you as a lawyer, since we are 
 so likely to profit by you as an author." 
 
 " No, man," was his emphatic answer " no, 
 man I was going to make an observe in the 
 
CHAPTER III. 20 
 
 way of philosophy, but let that pass, and do 
 something for the good o' the house." 
 
 I had by this time sipped unconsciously the 
 entire contents of my toddy tumbler, and ac- 
 cordingly, upon the Laird's suggestion, I began 
 to replenish. 
 
30 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 AFTER the account which Malachi had given 
 of his birth and parentage, I was curious to see 
 what he had said of his education ; but on lifting 
 and opening the first volume, (for he dignified 
 his books with that title,) I found nothing what- 
 ever recorded respecting it, nor of anything 
 which had befallen him till he reached his eigh- 
 teenth year. 
 
 " Dear me, Laird," said I, " how is this ? 
 You have omitted what is even more important 
 than the account of your family all the happy 
 days of your childhood." 
 
 " Happy days ! that's a* ye ken o' them. Oh, 
 if ye but knew what I suffered in the tender 
 years of my childhood ! I was persecuted like a 
 martyr the blains o' Dominie Skelp's tawse ye 
 may yet discern by an inspection a' the week 
 
CHAPTER IV. 31 
 
 there was nothing for me but read, read, read 
 your lesson write, write, write your copy 
 add, subtract, multiply, and divide ; and on the 
 Sabbath day, when man and beast and spin- 
 ning-wheel got leave to rest, I was buffetted by 
 Satan ten times waur in the shape o' the Psalms 
 o' David The deevil hae his will o' them, mony 
 a time thought I, that begat the Question-book." 
 
 " But, Laird, pains are pleasant in the recol- 
 lection, and I should have expected, from the 
 manner in which you of course passed your 
 youth, that there would have been a vernal 
 freshness in the description, such a dewy blos- 
 soming in the memory of your sports and re- 
 creations, as would have moved the world to re- 
 veries of innocence and delight." 
 
 " Poo, poo ! what is't to be a slave, a nigger 
 slave, but to be flogged on the back wi' a whip ? 
 well do I know a tenderer part than the back, 
 and a whip has but ae scourge, our schoolmais- 
 ter's tawse had seven neither intemperance nor 
 old age hae in gout or rheumatic an agony to 
 compare wi' a weel-laid-on whack o' the tawse 
 on a part that for manners shall be nameless." 
 
 " Well, Laird, though there is some truth in 
 what you say, yet I never should have thought 
 
32 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 you were likely to have required any excessive 
 degree of admonition a posteriori" 
 
 " But I was hated by the master he had a 
 pleasure and satisfaction in gripping me by the 
 coat-neck and shaking me wi' a gurl, because I 
 had no instinct for learning. It's my opinion, 
 had I been a justice of the peace at that time, I 
 would hae prosecuted him to the utmost rigour 
 of the law. Do you know, that once in his tan- 
 trams he flew on me like a mad dog, and nippit 
 my twa lugs till he left the stedt o' his fingers 
 as plainly upon them as the mark o' Peter's fin- 
 ger and thumb can be seen on the haddock's 
 back. There was na a day I did na get a pawmy 
 but ane, and on it I got twa, the whilk was ca'd 
 in derision a double morning." 
 
 " He appears to have been indeed a most 
 irascible dominie ; but all was no doubt made up 
 to you, when the blessed hours of play and sun- 
 shine came round buoyant and bounding with 
 your school-fellows " 
 
 " Haud your hand ! nane o' your parleyvoo- 
 ing, ye loon that ye are," exclaimed the Laird, 
 half slyly half earnestly, " for the laddies at our 
 school werena like ither laddies the thought o' 
 the usage they gied me gars me grind my teeth 
 
CHAPTER IV. 33 
 
 to this day. The master infectit them wi' his 
 hatred against me, and they never divaul't wi' 
 their torments sure am I, if there be a deevil 
 that's called Legion, that deevil was the hundred 
 and thirteen laddies at Dominie Skelp's school - 
 for though many in number, they were but ane 
 in nature. Now just think o' what they did 
 they ance liftit me o'er the minister's dyke and 
 gart me steal his apples !" 
 
 " But you were rewarded with a share of the 
 spoil ?" 
 
 " Ay, yes I was rewardit that's nae lee 
 but how ? tell me that ? They made me gie 
 them my hatfu', and when they got it, they a* 
 set up a shout and a cry o' a thief in the yard, 
 which brought out Gilbert the minister's man 
 like a raging bear. He was a contemptuous 
 wretch." 
 
 " What did he do to you ?" 
 
 " Do ! he laughed me to scorn wi' a gaffaw, 
 and said he thought I had na spunk for sic a 
 spree and then out came Mrs Glebanteinds the 
 minister's wife, knocking her nieves at me as if 
 I had been an unrighteous malefactor, till I waa 
 c 
 
34 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 sae terrify 't that I terrify 't them wi' my cries 
 o' dread. It has been said, indeed, I ne'er got 
 the better o' that fright ; and I hae some cause 
 to think no without reason, for I grue wi* the 
 thought o' an apple to this day, like Adam and 
 Eve, when they had begotte ntheir sons and 
 daughters. But I had my satisfaction o 7 that 
 finger o' scorn, Gilbert, though it was mair than 
 fifteen years after." 
 
 Well as I was aware of the Laird's disposition 
 to treasure and cherish resentment, this con- 
 fession of satisfaction at enjoying revenge so 
 many years after the school-boy prank, made me 
 say in a tone very different from that in which 
 I usually addressed him, 
 
 " Is it possible that a man could harbour an- 
 ger so long?" My indignation was, however, soon 
 bridled, for I presently recollected to whom I 
 was speaking : his answer was characteristic. 
 
 " Had ye felt my provocation, ye would hae 
 been angry at him a' your days, though ye had 
 lived to the age of Methusalem and yet I was 
 na very austere either." 
 
 " What did you to him ?" 
 
 " I'll fell you, if ye'll thole and listen like a 
 
CHAPTER IV. 3ft 
 
 man o' jurisprudence. Ye see, it cauie to pa** 
 that the minister, being weel stricken in years, 
 stretched out his legs on the bed of sickness and 
 departed this life ; whereupon his wife, Mrs Gle- 
 bantiends, being sequestrated from the stipend, 
 left the manse and went' to live in the town on 
 Sir Hairy's Fond,* which is, as you know, a 
 grand provision for the like o' her. Thus it 
 came to pass, that auld Gilbert was ordained to 
 earn his bread by the sweat of his brow, which 
 is the portion of man that is born of a woman, 
 and his lot was to howk ditches. When he had 
 laboured at that some dozen years or the like, 
 after the death of his master, he was afflicted 
 wi' an income, and no being able to handle spade 
 or pick, he was constrained to beggary ; and so 
 it happened that on the very first morning that 
 he took up the meal-pock for eikrie o j life, as 
 the folk called it, I was standing at the yett 
 looking to see wha might be going to the town, 
 
 The Laird would seem to have forgotten that the 
 " Widows' Fund" was not, at the time of which he was 
 speaking, under the able management of the Rev. Sir 
 Harry Moncrieff. 
 
36 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 and wha coming frae't, when, lo and behold ! I 
 saw an auld beggar-man, wi' a grey head and a 
 cleaner pock than usual, and it was toom ye 
 see it was his first morning at the trade hirp- 
 ling wi' a stilt towards the avenue ; and so hirp- 
 ling, when he saw me he stoppit, and s wither 't, 
 and turned round, and was blate to come, the 
 which made me wonder; but belyve, he took 
 off his bonnet and cam to me wi't in his hand, 
 wi' his bald head bare ; and when I was mar- 
 velling wha this new-set-up beggar could be, 
 (for I had no thought o' Gilbert,) he said, 
 * Laird, will ye hansel my pock ?' for he was 
 aye a jocose body, ' Will ye hansel my pock, 
 for auld langsyne, Laird?' ' For auld lang- 
 syne !' quo' I, ' a hansel in the jougs would 
 better serve ybu than an almous gae awa wi' 
 you, ye fause loon ! an ye come within the bounds 
 o' Auldbiggings, I'll set the dog on you, for 
 what ye did to me in the manse garden that's 
 the auld langsyne I keep in memento.' " 
 
 " And did he knock you down with his 
 crutch?" 
 
 " Na, na, he durstna do that but I trow he 
 
 2 
 
CHAPTER IV. 37 
 
 was dauntit, for he turn't on his heel and put on 
 his bonnet wi' a splurt like a Highlandman in a 
 pet, and powled himsel awa wi' his stilt. 
 
 " But," continued the Laird after a pause, 
 during which he looked somewhat doubtfully at 
 me " but I see ye think I didna do right," 
 adding, " I'm no, however, so hard-hearted as I 
 let wot for when I saw that I had made an 
 impression, I ran after him and touched him on 
 the shoulder, and putting my hand in my pouch, 
 I gave him a whole penny twa new bawbees, 
 gude weight, for it was then the days o' the 
 tumbling Tarns." 
 
 " And what said he ?" 
 
 " Ye'll aiblins think he was full o' thanks- 
 giving nae sic thing, but as proud as when he 
 was the minister's man he took the penny 
 twa beautiful bawbees it was, and he looked at 
 them, and what do you think he said ? ' I'm a 
 beggar noo, and I oughtna to refuse God's cha- 
 rity !' so, withouten a be thank, he hobbled on 
 his way, leaving me standing in the middle of 
 the road wi' my finger in my mouth." 
 
 There was something in this story, which at 
 the moment damped my curiosity, and, notwith- 
 
38 THE LAST OI< THE LAIRDS. 
 
 standing the Laird's earnest entreaties to pro- 
 long my visit, made me rise abruptly : a little 
 more hastily, too, than was quite consistent with 
 good manners, I hade him for that afternoon 
 farewell. But as 1 walked homeward, I reflected 
 on the singular circumstance of such a being 
 attempting a history of himself, and soon settled 
 it to my own contentment, that if his book was 
 not likely to furnish many materials for amuse- 
 ment, there was yet enough in his recollections 
 and observations worthy of being a little further 
 sifted ; accordingly, although I had left Auld- 
 biggings half resolved never again to pass the 
 threshold, it so happened that before I reached 
 home, my determination was formed to visit him 
 again on the following day. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 I HAVE a notion that the auto-biography of 
 an idiot might not only be interesting, but 
 prove an acquisition of no inconsiderable value 
 to the most philosophical thinkers ; and it seem- 
 ed to me, upon reflection, that the Laird's under- 
 taking was less preposterous than I had at first 
 imagined. It was possible that although always 
 regarded by the neighbours as a mere rumina- 
 ting animal, he might yet, in the course of his 
 time, have observed, in the passing current of 
 things, something worthy of notice which had 
 escaped the attention of men reputed wiser. 
 This idea changed in some degree the estima- 
 tion I had formed of his labour ; I could not, 
 indeed, refrain from thinking even of himself 
 with feelings of augmented consideration. 
 
 In this speculative frame of mind I took my 
 
40 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 hat and stick next day, and walked saunteringly 
 across the fields towards Auldbiggings, keeping 
 a path which trended towards the house at some 
 distance from the high-road, in order that I 
 might not be disturbed in my reveries by any 
 accidental encounter with those sort of friends 
 who are ever socially disposed to inflict their 
 company upon you, especially when you most 
 desire to walk alone. 
 
 This path winded over the Whinny Knowes, 
 an untenanted and unrentable portion of the 
 Laird's domain, famed from time immemorial 
 among the school-boys of the town for nests and 
 brambleberries, and for which they, as regu- 
 larly as the equinoxial gales, waged a vernal 
 and autumnal war with Jock the Laird's man. 
 For his master, by some peculiar and squire-like 
 interpretation of the spirit and principles of the 
 game laws, claimed and asserted a right of pro- 
 perty over them, as sacred and lawful as that 
 which he possessed to his own dove-cot, or the 
 fruit of his garden. Accordingly, as soon as the 
 gowans began to open the silvery lids of their 
 golden eyes in the spring, Jock was posted 
 among the blooming furze and broom, particu- 
 
CHAPTER V. 41 
 
 larly on the Saturday's blessed afternoon, to 
 herd the nests. And in like manner, and as 
 periodically as the same play-hallowed day of 
 the week returned, as soon as the celebrated 
 ruddy apples began to blush on the boughs, he 
 was again sent thither to defend the berries, nor 
 were the oranges of the Hesperides guarded of 
 old by a more indomitable griffon. 
 
 It happened on the occasion of which I am 
 speaking, that the warder had taken post for the 
 first or second time for the season to watch the 
 nests I am not sure if the day, however, was 
 a Saturday, but if it was not, the weather was 
 so bland and bright that it ought to have been. 
 Jock was sitting in a niche of golden broom, and, 
 inspirited by the influence of the birds and 
 blossoms around him, was gaily whistling, it 
 might be for the want of thought, or from the 
 enjoyment of happiness, as he tapered a fishing- 
 rod with an old table-knife of the true Margaret 
 Nicholson edge and pattern. Oil seeing me ap- 
 proaching, he rose, leaving his task and imple- 
 ment on the grass, and in a style I had never 
 remarked in him before, he raised his hand to 
 his hat, and held it there till I requested him to 
 
42 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 use no new ceremony. I said, however, to my- 
 self, this is another effect of the King's visit ; 
 but as Jock did not accompany the Laird on 
 the occasion to Athens, I became a little pryish 
 to ascertain whether this debonair touching of 
 the hat was derived from the special tuition of 
 his master, or had been acquired from some 
 compeer's authority. Before I had time, how- 
 ever, to ask any question, Jock inquired if I 
 was for " The Place," as the house of Auldbig- 
 gings was commonly called by the servants and 
 villagers. 
 
 " Ye'll fin' the Laird," said he, "a busy 
 man." 
 
 " Indeedand what is he doing ?" 
 " Doing ? what should he be doing, but sit- 
 ting on his ain louping-on stane, glowring frae 
 him?" 
 
 " And call ye that being busy, John ?" 
 " And is't no sae ? Is na idleset the wark o' 
 a gentleman and what more would ye hae him 
 to be doing in that way? what could he do 
 more ?" 
 
 " Then he has given, up writing his book, 
 has he ?" 
 
CHAPTER V. 1;{ 
 
 '* He Miami think o' what to put in't King 
 David made his Psalms in the watches of the 
 night." 
 
 " 'Tis my opinion, John," said I, " that the 
 Laird might do worse than consult you on the 
 subject, considering how long and how well you 
 have been acquainted with himself and all his 
 family." 
 
 " Fm thinking," replied Jock, casting his 
 eyes on the ground, " he would come but little 
 speed without the help and counsel o* some- 
 body, living sic a lonely life as he has done ; 
 till he gaed to the King's coming hame, it could 
 na be said in a sense that he had cast an ee on 
 the world." 
 
 " But your experience in that way, John, has 
 been great ; and if he consults his own renown, 
 he will take your advice in every sentence." I 
 had in this my mind's eye on Moliere's Old 
 Woman. 
 
 " I'll no deny that I hae had a finger in the 
 pie already; but I was telling him yestreen, 
 after ye went away, when he gied me an ac- 
 count of your applauses, that I thought the 
 book would be better if he would saw it here 
 
44 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 and there wi' twa three bonny kittle words out 
 o j the dictioner. If it has a fault, (and what 
 has na ?) it's a want o j gentility." 
 
 That Jock had long heen viceroy over the 
 Laird, was well known to the whole parish ; 
 but that he was so deep in his literary counsels, 
 and so participant in his lucubrations, I had 
 not suspected. I felt, therefore, that to indulge 
 curiosity further, by leading him on to the 
 unconscious disclosure of his master's secrets, 
 would be as little consonant to gentility, as the 
 want of kittle words in the Memoirs. Accord- 
 ingly, partly to appease my own compunctions, 
 and partly to soothe him into an oblivion of the 
 impertinence of which I had been so guilty, I 
 complimented him on his long and faithful at- 
 tachment to the Laird, and on the confidence 
 which he enjoyed, and which he merited. 
 
 " And he weel deserves to be weel servit," 
 was the answer. " Is na he come o' a paren- 
 tage o' pedigree, and born wi' a silver spoon in 
 his mouth to an heritage o' parks and pastures, 
 woods and waters, and a' the other commodi- 
 ties that mak blood gentle ?" 
 
 Hitherto I had known little more of Jock than 
 
CHAPTER V. 45 
 
 by sight; but I discovered by this accidental 
 conversation that he was worthy of all the cele- 
 brity he enjoyed among the neighbours for the 
 sagacity of his remarks, and the singularity of 
 his sayings, many of the latter having acquired 
 the currency of proverbs ; but whether owing 
 to the value of the bullion, or to the peculiari- 
 ties of the mintage, might perhaps admit of 
 some controversy. It was clear, however, that 
 Jock was worthy of his master; nor in the 
 sequel will it be questioned, that the Laird 
 deserved such a man. But as it is both fit and 
 expedient that the courteous reader should also 
 become a little more acquainted with Jock, it 
 may be as well to mention a few particulars of 
 his personal history and character, while the 
 scene of my own role in the drama is changing 
 from the Whinny Knowes to the parlour of 
 Auldbiggings. 
 
 Jock, or John Dabbler, as he ought to be 
 called, when we quit the free vernacular of our 
 colloquial pen, and indite with the recondite 
 dignity of history, was the son of one of the 
 Laird's cotters. For some four or five years 
 after his birth, it was the unshaken opinion of 
 
46 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 his mother that he was born to distinction, in- 
 asmuch as he had, according to her account of 
 him, always showed a greater inclination to 
 eat than to work ; hut increase of years, which 
 expanded his capacity for the former, brought 
 no compensating alacrity for the latter ; and in 
 consequence, as he would neither learn a town- 
 trade, nor help his father in the labour of dykes 
 and ditches, she obtained for him, about the age 
 of seven, a sort of ashypet office in the Laird's 
 kitchen, where, in course of time, he acquired 
 a grey duffle coat with a red collar, and was 
 regarded as the helper and successor of an old 
 man, who had spent his whole life in the honour- 
 able vocation of flunkie to three generations of 
 the Auldbiggings. 
 
 At the era of which we are treating, Jock, 
 though far advanced into the wane of man- 
 hood, still retained the familiar callant abbre- 
 viation of his baptismal epithet, and still as 
 devoutly believed, as on the first day when he 
 entered the house, that the whole earth con- 
 tained but two men worthy of worship the 
 King and the Laird but to which the prime 
 honour and the firstlings of homage were due, 
 
CHAPTER V. 47 
 
 lie had never determined to his own satisfac- 
 tion. The leaning certainly, however, was in 
 favour of the Laird; for, never having seen 
 the King, he justly remarked, when sometimes 
 drawn into controversy on the subject, that far- 
 off fowls had fair feathers thereby intimating, 
 that upon a nearer inspection, and closer com- 
 parison, the difference would be found less be- 
 tween them than in the alleged disparity of the 
 pomp and circumstance of their respective con- 
 ditions. 
 
 Besides this personal opinion of the supe- 
 riority of his master, Jock had as strong a feel- 
 ing of property in everything belonging to the 
 Laird as the Laird had himself, and probably 
 considered himself as much an integral portion 
 of the estate as the time-honoured holly-bush 
 on the green, of which I have already spoken. 
 But in this feeling there was none of that per- 
 suasion of a community of goods, which is some- 
 times discovered among the domestics of the best- 
 regulated families. On the contrary, Jock was 
 as faithful to his menial trusts as the key or the 
 mastiff; as true as the one, and not less vigilant 
 than the other. It was owing to the impulse of 
 
48 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 this fidelity that our conversation on the Whinny 
 Knowes was so suddenly interrupted, and the 
 leisure afforded for this digression, For, just as 
 I was on the point of sifting his opinion as to 
 the constituents of gentle hlood, he happened to 
 discover a piquet of the school-boys advancing 
 towards the Knowes, and abruptly darted from 
 me to challenge their intrusion. 
 
r 49 j 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 I DID not find the Laird, as Jock said I should, 
 sitting busy with idleness on the louping-on 
 stone at his gate, but in the parlour, and with 
 the insignia of authorship arranged before him, 
 installed in the library chair so particularly be- 
 fore described. 
 
 After the customary interchanges of visita- 
 tion inquiries, he reverted to the subject of our 
 yesterday's conversation. 
 
 " I hae been," said he, "a thought ravelled 
 in mind wi' what ye were saying concerning the 
 specialities o* my father and mother's kith and 
 kin ; but the book ye would hae me to make, is 
 no like what I mean to do mine's to be a book 
 o' soleedity, showing forth the wastrie of heri- 
 tages by reason o' the ingrowth o' trade and 
 taxes." 
 
50 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 I was grieved to find the old gentleman really 
 so much of a political economist ; but as to have 
 disputed with him would have served no pur- 
 pose, I only replied 
 
 " No doubt, Laird, any book you write will 
 be well worthy of attention ; and if it does 
 not suit the plan of your present work to enter 
 into those domestic details and circumstances of 
 householdry, which none can describe better, 
 perhaps you may favour the world with some- 
 thing of that sort hereafter." 
 
 " Ye're no without a nerve o' discernment 
 I can see that," was his self-complacent answer ; 
 " and I'll no say what's in the egg-bed o' my 
 brain but no to keckle ower soon, I hae been 
 thinking a* this morning's meditation, that if I 
 get a satisfactory solacium for the turn in hand, 
 I may be able belyve to pay off another o' the 
 bonds, and so, by a graduality, clear the estate 
 and die wi' a free income." 
 
 When he first told me that his motive in un- 
 dertaking to write his life was to pay off one of 
 the mortgages, the idea was too ludicrous to 
 leave any serious impression ; but this repetition 
 of it made me suspect the debt lay more heavily 
 
CHAPTER VI. 51 
 
 upon him than I was awaro of. I knew, indeed, 
 thai from the death of his wife, his affairs had 
 been ill managed, ancl that for many years the 
 residue of his rental that which remained af- 
 ter paying the interest on the heritable bonds, 
 was scarcely sufficient for his thriftless expen- 
 diture ; but that he felt anything like the actual 
 pinchings of pecuniary difficulty, had never oc- 
 curred to me. I did not, however, then choose to 
 ask him any direct question on the subject ; but 
 it was impossible not to pity the helplessness 
 and infirmity of the poor old man, who could 
 imagine that from any resource so ineffectual as 
 his pen, the means might be obtained to abate 
 the pressure of embarrassment ; nevertheless, I 
 said to him, half jocularly, 
 
 " But what can it signify to you, Laird, to die 
 with a clear income, unless you intend to marry 
 again, and mean to provide for a young family, 
 seeing that at present you have no descendent, 
 nor even an heir within the fifth degree of cou- 
 sinship ?" 
 
 He looked at me steadily askance for about 
 the space of a minute, and then said with an 
 
52 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 accent in which there was a slight inflexion of 
 
 " Ye're no acquaint wi' Hugh Caption, the 
 writer ?" 
 
 " I have heard of him ; hut I hope you have 
 more sense, Laird, than to go to law ?" 
 
 " So think I mysell," was his answer, ex- 
 pressed somewhat sedately ; " but it's no the case 
 wi' everybody." 
 
 " How, Laird ! " cried I, startled by the im- 
 port of the observation, and really feeling for 
 him more anxiety than I affected ; " blameless 
 in walk and conversation as you have always 
 been, is it possible that you can have fallen 
 into the snares of Caption ? " 
 
 " He's but the claw o' the case," replied the 
 Laird, adding, with a half-suppressed sigh, as it 
 were in soliloquy, " and it's a claw that needs 
 parin' : an eagle's talons may tear the flesh frae 
 the bone, but his grasping grip's enough to rive 
 the seven senses out o' the soul." 
 
 66 I am grieved to hear you say so. How did 
 you happen to fall into his clutches ? By whom 
 is he employed ?" 
 
CHAPTER VI. 53 
 
 " Stop, stop," interrupted the Laird ; " the 
 mair haste the waur speed bridle the'imicorn o* 
 your impatience, and I'll tell you all the outs 
 and ins o't. Ye see, when Mr Rupees the Naw- 
 bub came hame frae Indy, and bought the Arun- 
 through property frae the Glaikies, who, like 
 sae mony ithers o* the right stock o* legitimate 
 gentry, hae been smothered out o* sight by the 
 weed and nettle overgrowths o' merchandise and 
 cotton-weavry, he would fain hae bought Auld- 
 biggings likewise, and sent that gett o* the de'il 
 and the law, Caption, to make me an offer ; but 
 I was neither a prodigal son nor an Esau, to 
 sell my patrimony for a mess o' pottage, so I 
 gied him a flea in his lug, and bade him tell the 
 Nawbub to chew the cud o' the sin o' covetous- 
 ness, the whilk is disappointment." 
 
 " And from that I suppose, Laird, you and 
 Mr Rupees quarrelled ?" 
 
 " Oh no, it was the beginning to a great 
 cordiality o* friendship, for he came o'er here 
 the next day, and made a decent apology, 
 inviting me in the civillest manner, to dine wi' 
 him, and was most entertecning about hoo they 
 hunt elephants wi' tygers instead o' hounds; 
 
54 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 telling me, among ither news, o' the braw thing 
 he did to a great Mogul, that was a Pishawa in 
 Hydrobab, and had a Durbah. In short, we 
 came to an understanding, and ae night, when 
 we were sitting by oursells, drinking a bottle o' 
 his best Madsera wine, that was eleven years in 
 wood in Bengal before he bought it, and six- 
 teen in the bottle after ; he said that he had some 
 spare money, which he would be glad to lend 
 on easy terms, for seven years, or even a langer 
 period, begging, if I should hear of ony gentle- 
 man in want, to gie him an inkling." 
 
 It was not difficult to discern from this the 
 machination of the Nabob's friendship for the 
 innocent Laird, and I shook my head. 
 
 " Deed," said Malachi, " ye may weel shake 
 your head, for his wine was a flee, and his 
 money a hook, that I was a silly saumon to 
 swallow. But he won upon me, so I told him 
 o' the wadsets on Auldbiggings, and of the twa 
 heritable bonds o' the doers for the young led- 
 dies o' Hainings, the which might be called up 
 in a day's notice, and thus it came to pass, frae 
 less to mair, that I covenanted to take as meikle 
 o' his siller as would pay off that precarious obli- 
 
CHAPTER VI. 55 
 
 gation, the thought of which was like guilt to 
 my night's rest." 
 
 " And having so allured you to take his 
 money," said I, " he now vexes you for repay- 
 ment?" 
 
 " Na, he does far waur. He has gotten, 
 the gude kens how, the rights to the other wad- 
 sets, and put them intil the Nebuchadnezzar-like 
 talons o' Caption, who has sent me word, that 
 if the debt's no redeemed afore Whitsunday, he's 
 instructed to proceed; and he's, I needna tell 
 you, a sinner that skips, when he says the Lord's 
 prayer, * forgie our debts as we forgie our debt- 
 ors ;' so ye see there is a needcessity for me to 
 do something and books being in request, I 
 could think o' naething easier than making ane 
 to help me in the coming stress, money being 
 scarce to borrow, and land ill to sell." 
 
 By this disclosure, it was evident that the 
 poor Laird's circumstances were much worse 
 than I had conjectured ; for upon inquiring the 
 amount of the mortgages, I was grieved to find 
 it almost equal to the reputed value of his whole 
 estate, depreciated as the value of land was at 
 that time. I thought, however, if the character 
 
56 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 of the transaction was properly represented 
 to the Nabob, that the apprehension of public 
 odium might induce him, if not to forego the pro- 
 secution entirely of so harsh a suit, to mitigate 
 the pressure of it by some indulgence as to time, 
 especially as, from the date of his arrival in the 
 neighbourhood, he had cultivated popularity, 
 and not by the least ostentatious means. Ac- 
 cordingly, I offered to call on Dr Lounlans, the 
 minister of the parish, to beg his mediation in 
 the business ; but on mentioning his name, a 
 change came over the complexion of the Laird, 
 and a slight convulsive shudder of repugnance 
 vibrated through his whole frame. He made no 
 answer, but looked at me suspiciously askance ; 
 and then taking off his purple velvet cap, rub- 
 bed his bald head with his hand, and fetched a 
 deep breath, which terminated in something like 
 a sigh. 
 
 " You do not seem," said I, " to approve of 
 my suggestion. But a man of Dr Lounlans's 
 personal character, with the great ascendency 
 which his eloquence gives him over the minds 
 of all who approach him, is, in such an affair as 
 
CHAPTER VI. 57 
 
 yours, Laird, the most likely to prove an effec- 
 tive advocate." 
 
 " When that Neezam o* the Carnatic, Ru- 
 pees, offered me his money, he shook me by the 
 hand, wi* meikle flattering confidentiality," re- 
 plied the Laird, after a pause of about the space 
 of a minute ; " but the thought o' his covetous 
 deceitfulness is neither sae sour nor sae bitter, 
 as to think I would come under an obligation 
 to the like o* Dominie Lounlans." 
 
 The energy with which this was uttered, had 
 more in it of alarm than of contempt. The tone 
 was at variance with the language, and the look 
 was expressive of aversion rather than of dread. 
 It was evident, indeed, that some skinless feel- 
 ing had been touched ; and that something had 
 occurred in the previous history of the Laird, 
 regarding the amiable and eloquent preacher, of 
 which I had not heard. In that moment my 
 eye happened to glance towards one of the bio- 
 graphical copy-books on the table, and I sud- 
 denly recollected the note respecting the widow 
 Lounlans, whom the Laird had been obliged to 
 roup out of the farm, and whose clamour on the 
 occasion he had so emphatically recorded. 
 
58 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " Is Dr Lounlans," said I, " any relation to 
 that widow, who gave you so much trouhle long 
 ago?" 
 
 " Isna he her son ? and didna he set him- 
 self in revenge against me to get the kirk ? If 
 he hadna been stirred up, and egget on by a 
 malice prepense, would he ever hae daur't to 
 show his face in this parish, far less in our poo- 
 pit, driven out o't as his mother and the rest o' 
 them were, black wi' disgrace in my debt, that 
 wasna pay't for ten years, though to be sure 
 when it was pay't she alloo't interest on the in- 
 terest ; but that was only out o' a pridefu' spite 
 to humble me, 'cause o' my justice; for there 
 was no need o' sic payment, as I would hae been 
 content wi' the single interest. But it's what 
 we're to expec frae the upsetting o' the lower 
 orders. It was the machinations o' thae very 
 Lounlans that first opened my een to the conspi- 
 racy that's working the downfall and overthrow 
 of sae mony birthrights o' our national gentry. 
 But if ye kent the original cause of their hatred 
 to me, ye would be none surprised to see me 
 sae grue at the thought of being behadin* to ane 
 o' them." 
 
CHAPTER VI. Of 
 
 " Why, 1 think that's pretty well explained 
 by what you have just told me. It was to be ex- 
 pected they would bear a resentful remembrance 
 of the manner in which you drove them from 
 the parish." 
 
 " They went of their own free wull," ex- 
 claimed the Laird, eagerly, as if to defend him- 
 self from a reproach " Had my rent been paid, 
 I wouldna hae molested them, and they might 
 have staid in the parish for me, when I got them 
 off the farm but the woman had a hatred o' 
 me lang afore a* that." 
 " And for what reason ?" 
 " For no reason at a' but the very want o't ; 
 for when she was young she was a bonnie lassie, 
 wi* blithe e'en, and cheeks like a Flanders 
 baby ; and I would hae made her leddy of Auld- 
 biggings But I hae written a* the particulars 
 about it here ; the which ye may read, while I 
 step to the Whinny Knowes, to see what Jock's 
 doing ; and when ye' re done ye can follow me." 
 As soon as the Laird left the room, I accord- 
 ingly began to read; but I had not proceeded 
 many sentences when I was tempted, of course 
 by the Evil one, to copy the chapter verbatim. 
 
60 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Whether, in doing so, I have been guilty of any 
 breach of faith, the critic may determine for 
 himself, while the compositor is setting the ex- 
 tract. 
 
C 01 ] 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE Laird began the record of his eighteenth 
 year in these words : 
 
 " There livt at this time, on ye fermsted of 
 Broomlans, a pirson that was a woman, by call- 
 ing a widow ; and she and her husband, when 
 he was in this lyf, had atween them, Annie 
 Daisie, a dochter; very fair she was to look 
 upon, cumly withal, and of a feeleeceety o' na- 
 ture. 
 
 " This pretty Annie Daisie, I kno not hoo, 
 found favor in my eyes, and I maid no scruppel 
 of going to the kirk every Sabbatha day to see 
 her, though Mr Glebantiends was, to a cer- 
 tentye, a vera maksleepie preecher. When I fore- 
 gathered with her by accidence, I was all in a 
 confewshon ; and when I would hae spoken to 
 her wi' kindly words, I coud but look in her 
 
62 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 cleer een and neigher like Willie Gouk, the 
 haivrel laddie ; the whutch maid her jeer me as 
 if I had a want, and been daft likewyse ; so that 
 seeing I cam no speed in coorting for myself, 
 I thocht o' telling my mother, but that was a 
 kittle job howsoever, I took heart, and said 
 " < Mother ' 
 
 " ( Well, son,' she made answer, * what woud 
 ye? 
 
 " ' I'm going to be marriet,' quo' I. 
 " 6 Harriet !' cried she, spredding oot her 
 arms wi' a consternayshun * And wha's the 
 bride? 
 
 " I didna like just to gie her an even-down 
 answer, but said I thought myselph old enough 
 for a helpmeat to my table, whutch caused her 
 to respond with a laff ; whereupon I told her I 
 was thinking of Annie Daisie. 
 
 " c Ye'll shoorly ne'er marry the like o' her 
 she's only a gairner's dochter.' 
 
 " But I thocht of Adam v and Eve, and said, 
 4 We're a' come of a gairner.' The whuch to 
 heer, caused her presentlye to wax vera wroth 
 with me ; and she stampit with her foot, and 
 called me a blot on y e skutshon o' Auldbiggings ; 
 
CHAPTER VII. (J3 
 
 then she sat doon, and began to rcflek witli 
 herself; and after a season, she spoke rawshonel 
 about the connexion, saying she had a wife in 
 her mind for me, far more to the purpose than 
 sitch a cawsey danser as Annie Daisie. 
 
 " But I couldna bide to hear Annie Daisie 
 mislikent, and yet I was fear't to commit the 
 sin of disobedience, for my mother had no 
 mercy when she thocht I rebelFt against her 
 othority ; so I sat down, and was in treebolay- 
 shon, and then I speert with a flutter of afflic- 
 tion, who it was that she had wilFt to be my 
 wyfe. 
 
 " ' Miss Betty Grame,' said she, * if she can 
 be persuaded to tak sic a headowit.' 
 
 " Now, this Miss Betty Gra3me was the toch- 
 erless sixth dochter o' a broken Glasgow Pro- 
 vost, and made her leeving by seamstress-wark 
 and floowring lawn ; but she was come of gentle 
 blood, and was herself a gentle creature, though 
 no sac blithe as bonnie Annie Daisie ; and for 
 that, I told my mother I would never take her, 
 though it should be the death o' me. According- 
 ly I ran out of the hoos, and took to the hills, 
 and wistna where I was, till I found myself at 
 
64 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the door of the Broomlands, with Annie Daisie 
 before me, singing like a laverock as she water- 
 ed the yarn of her ain spinning on the green. 
 On seeing me, however, she stoppit, and cried, 
 6 Gude keep us a', Laird, what's frightened you 
 to flee hither? 
 
 " But I was desp'rate, and I ran till her, and 
 fell on my knees, in a lover-like fashon ; but, 
 wha would hae thocht it ? she dang me over on 
 my back, and as I lay on the ground she wa- 
 tered me with her watering-can, and was like to 
 dee with laffing : the which sign and manifesta- 
 tion of hatred on her part quencht the low o' 
 love on mine; and I raise and went hame, drook- 
 it and dripping as I was, and told my mother 
 I would be an obedient and dutiful son. Soon 
 after this, Annie Daisie was marriet to John 
 Lounlans ; and there was a fulsome fraising 
 about them when they were kirkit, as the cum- 
 liest cupple in the parish. It was castor-oil to 
 hear't ; and I was determin't to be up-sides with 
 them, for the way she had jiltit me. 
 
 " In the meanwhile my mother, that never, 
 when she had a turn in hand, alloo't the grass 
 to grow in her path, invited Miss Betty Gneme 
 
CHAPTER Vli. 65 
 
 to stay a week with us ; the which, as her fa- 
 ther's family were in a straitened circumstance, 
 she was glad to accep ; and being come, and her 
 mother with her, I could discern a confabling 
 atween the twa auld leddies Mrs Graeme sha- 
 king the head of scroopolosity, and my mother 
 laying doon the law and the gospel all deno- 
 ting a matter-o'-money plot for me and Miss 
 Betty. At last it came to pass, on the morn- 
 ing of the third day, that Miss Betty did not 
 rise to take her breakfast with us, but was in- 
 disposed; and when she came to her dinner, 
 her een were blear't and begrutten. After din- 
 ner, however, my mother that day put down, 
 what wasna common with her housewifery, a 
 bottle o' port in a decanter, instead o* the gar- 
 devin for toddy, and made Miss Betty drink a 
 glass to mak her better, and me to drink three, 
 saying, < Faint heart never won fair leddy.' 
 Upon the whilk hint I took another myself, and 
 drank a toast, for better acquaintance with Miss 
 Betty. Then the twa matrons raise to leave the 
 room, and Miss Betty was rising too ; but her 
 mother laid her hand upon her shoother, and 
 said, ' It's our lot, my dear, and we maun bear 
 
 E 
 
66 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 with it.' Thus it came to pass, that me and 
 Miss Betty were left hy ourselves in a very 
 comical situation. 
 
 "There was silence for a space of time between 
 us ; at last she drew a deep sigh, and I respond- 
 ed, to the best of my ability, with another. 
 Then she took out her pocket napkin, and be- 
 gan to wipe her eyes. This is something like 
 serious coorting, thocht I to myself, for sighs 
 and tears are the food of love ; but I was na 
 yet just ready to weep ; hoosever, I likewise 
 took out my pocket napkin, and made a sign 
 o' sympathy by blowing my nose, and then I 
 said 
 
 " ' Miss Betty Graeme, how would ye like to 
 be Leddy of Auldbiggings under my mother ?' 
 
 " * Oh, heavens !' cried she, in a voice that 
 gart me a' dinle and she burst into a passion 
 of tears ; the whilk to see so affectit me that I 
 couldna help greeting too the sight whereof 
 made her rise and walk the room like a demeii- 
 tit bedlamite. 
 
 " I was terrify t, for her agitation wasna like 
 the raptures I expectit; but I rose from my seat, 
 and going round to the other side of the table 
 
CHAPTER VII. 67 
 
 where she was pacing the floor, I follow't her, 
 and pulling her hy the skirt, said, in a gallant 
 way, to raise her spirits ' Miss Betty Graeme, 
 will ye sit down on my knee ?' I'll ne'er for- 
 get the look she gied for answer but it raised 
 my courage, and I said, ' E'en's ye like, Meg 
 Dorts' and with a flourish on my heel, I left 
 her to tune her pipes alane. This did the busi- 
 ness, as I thocht ; for though I saw her no more 
 that night, yet the next morning she came to 
 breakfast a subdued woman, and my mother, 
 before the week was out, began to make pre- 
 parations for the wedding. 
 
 " But, lo and behold ! one afternoon, as Miss 
 Betty and me were taking a walk at her own re- 
 queesht on the high road, by came a whusky with 
 a young man in it, that had been a penny-clerk 
 to her father, and before you could say, hey 
 cockilorum, she was up in the gig, and down at 
 his side, and aff and away like the dust in a 
 whirlwind. 
 
 "I was very angry to be sae jil tit a second time, 
 but it wasna with an anger like the anger I suf- 
 fert for what I met with at the hands of Annie 
 Daisie. It was a real pawshon. I ran hame 
 
68 THE LASKT OF THE LAIRDS* 
 
 like a clap o j thunder, and raged and rampaged 
 till Mrs Graeme was out of the house, bag and 
 baggage. My mother thought I was gane wud, 
 and stood and lookt at me, and didna daur to 
 say nay to my commands. Whereas, the thocht 
 o* the usage I had gottin frae Annie Daisie bred 
 a heart-sickness o' humiliation, and I surely 
 think that if she had not carried her scorn o* me 
 sae far, as to prefer a bare farmer lad like John 
 Lownlans, I wad hae sank into a decline, and 
 sought the grave with a broken heart. But her 
 marrying him roosed my corruption, and was 
 as souring to the milk of my nature. I could 
 hae forgiven her the watering; and had she 
 gotten a gentleman of family, I would not have 
 been overly miscontented ; but to think, after 
 the offer she had from a man of my degree, that 
 she should take up with a tiller of the ground, 
 a hewer of wood, and a drawer of water, was 
 gall and wormwood. Truly, it was nothing less 
 than a kithing of the evil spirit of the democraws 
 that sae withered the green bay-trees of the 
 world, when I was made a captain in the volun- 
 teers, by order of the Lord-Lieutenant, 'cause, 
 as his Lordship said, of my stake in the country. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 69 
 
 But guilt and sin never thrive, and she had her 
 punishment." 
 
 Thus far had I proceeded with the extract, 
 when I heard the Laird's foot on the stair. I 
 knew it hy the sound of his stick on the steps, 
 by which it was accompanied, and it made me 
 hastily, and, I must confess, not without some- 
 thing like the trepidation which is supposed to 
 attend the commission of a larceny, fold up the 
 paper, and hide it in my pocket, which I had 
 scarcely done and composed myself into a stu- 
 dious attitude, with the manuscript in my hand, 
 when the old gentleman entered the room. 
 
70 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WHEN the Laird had resumed his place in 
 the library chair, I saw by his manner, and par- 
 ticularly by the peculiar askance look he gave 
 me, and which was only habitual to him while 
 under the influence of jealousy or of appre- 
 hension, that something had occurred, during 
 his visit to the Whinny Knowes, to ruffle his 
 wonted equanimity ; but as he evidently made 
 an effort to conceal his perturbation, I abstain- 
 ed from saying anything which might lead him 
 to suppose I observed it : on the contrary, I re- 
 marked, with reference to the treatment he had 
 received in his courtships, that he certainly 
 had suffered much from the cruel hands of wo- 
 mankind. 
 
 He again looked askance at me, and smiled 
 for a moment, with a countenance as pleased and 
 simple in its expression as the naif relaxation of 
 sorrow on the features of a child, when in- 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 71 
 
 demnified with an apple or a toy for some heart- 
 felt affliction ; he then said : 
 
 " But in those days, I was better able to 
 bear a* that and meikle mair, than within that 
 volume of the book it written is of me, as in 
 the words of King David, I may say, speaking 
 specially of that volume beneath the cuff of 
 your sleive ; for now I'm auld, and a wee blast o' 
 a blighting wind snools the pride o' the dodder- 
 ed tree. What would ye think? There was 
 Caption, and Mr Angle the landsurveyor, wi f 
 brazen wheels within wheels, and the Nawbub, 
 (Belzebub's ower gude a name for him,) direct- 
 ing ane of his flunkies to run here wi' the chain, 
 and there wi' the mark. They were measuring 
 my lands the lands o' my forefathers !" 
 
 " Not possible," said I, unaffectedly partici- 
 pating in the feelings of the helpless and dispi- 
 rited old man. " If no better sentiment existed 
 among them, some deference to public decorum 
 might have restrained Rupees till the mortgages 
 were regularly foreclosed, or at least till he had 
 your permission." 
 
 " For the possibility of the trespass," replied 
 the Laird, " I'll no undertake to argue ; but for 
 
72 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the fact, that has been proven a truth by deed 
 
 o' payment." 
 
 p. " Payment ! to what do you allude ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you. You see, when I beheld them 
 around the brazen racks and torments of valua- 
 tion, I stood still, marvelling if I wasna dream- 
 ing the vision o' Ezekiel the prophet, and Jock 
 seeing me in that trance, came running in a 
 splore o' wonder, crying, * Odsake, Laird, if 
 John Angle, the surveyor, hasna a loadstone 
 watch in his curiosity, that tells the airts o' the 
 wind !' " 
 
 The Laird's eyes at this crisis of his narrative 
 kindled, and he became agitated with indigna- 
 tion. " My corruption rose," said he, " and 
 stamping wi' my foot, I said to Jock, How durst 
 you let the' Boar into our vineyard ? The bairns 
 o' the town would tak but eggs, and birds, and 
 blackberries, but Rupees and his rajahs are come 
 to rob us o' home and haV Whereupon Jock, 
 he's as true's a dog, before the shape o' my breath 
 was melted in the air, ran to them, and wi' the 
 butt o' a fishing-rod he had in his hand, smash- 
 ed at ae blow a' their wheels o' evil* prophecy 
 into shivers, and told Caption, that if he didna 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 73 
 
 leave our land, he would mak sowther o' his 
 harns to meud them. Then there arose a sough 
 and sound o' war, and rumours o' war, which 
 caused me to walk towards them in my dignified 
 capacity as one of his Majesty 's Justices of the 
 Peace, and I debarred them in the King's name, 
 and with his royal authority, from trespassing 
 on my ground ; trampling the rising corn, doing 
 detriment wi' their hooves to the herbage, and 
 transgressing the bounds o' dyke and fence, to 
 say nothing of yetts and ditches, taking John 
 Angle to be a witness against Rupees, and lod- 
 ging instruments o' protest, in the shape of a 
 shilling, in the hands of Caption himsell, 'cause 
 he's a notary public." 
 
 " And did he take them ?" said I, not less 
 surprised than astonished at such unwonted spi- 
 rit and decision on the part of the Laird. 
 
 " Tak them ! he durstna refuse ; for I told 
 him, if he did, his refusal was a thing that would 
 make the fifteen Lords o' Embro redden on 
 their benches." 
 
 " What then happened ?" 
 
 " It would have done your heart good to see 
 what happened. There was Rupees slinking and 
 
74 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 sidling awa* wi' his tail atween his legs, and 
 John Angle, wi' a rueful countenance, gather- 
 ing up the catastrophes of his oglet." 
 
 " But what did Caption do ?" 
 
 " He's the seventh son of Satan, and, of 
 course, has by birth and instinct mair skill in 
 deevilry than his father. He stood looking at 
 me wi' a girn that was nothing short o' a smile 
 o' destruction, and then he said : * Laird,' quo' 
 he, and ye wouldna hae thought that honey 
 could hae melted in his mouth, c I'll say nothing 
 
 of this here, but ' and wi' that he walked 
 
 away. Noo, what could he mean wi' that * but' ? 
 I'm frightened for that but But's an oracu- 
 lous word frae the lips o' the law." 
 
 I could not but sympathize with the poor 
 Laird's apprehensions. The character of Cap- 
 tion allowed of no doubt as to the persecution 
 which would ensue, and it was not uncharitable 
 to think that his malicious machinations would 
 be supported by his rich and unprincipled cli- 
 ent. Under these feelings and that impression, 
 I again said : " You must indeed permit me to 
 beg the mediation of Dr Lounlans. If any man 
 can avert the trouble and vexation to which you 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 75 
 
 are so unhappily exposed, he alone of all the 
 parish, " 
 
 " Do you see that picture of the King on the 
 wall ?" replied the old man. " Bid it come out 
 fpae ahint the glass, and go to the Manse, and 
 drink a glass o' wine wi' Dr Lounlans, and I'll 
 be there when it does that, and beseech the Doc- 
 tor to supplicate for me." 
 
 "Really, Mr Mailings, you surprise me. Forty 
 years might have quenched the anger you felt 
 against his mother for rejecting your suit, the 
 proffer of your love." 
 
 " O ! I was willing to forgie her for that I 
 had forgien her, and had amaist forgotten't ; but 
 when her gudeman dee't, and I was constrained 
 by course o' law to roup her out o' the farm, 
 I'll never forgie what she did then no, no, ne- 
 ver. She stir't the country like a wasp's byke 
 about me I durstna mudge on the King's high- 
 way without meeting revile and molestation. It's 
 no to be told what I suffer' t. The cripple bo- 
 die, auld Gilbert, that was the minister's man, 
 wudna tak an amous ae day frae me he ne'er 
 got the offer o' another 'cause, as he said, sure- 
 ly I was needfu' o't mysel. Heard ye ever sic 
 
76 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 i m pid dance ? and a' this for acting according to 
 law, as if to do sae were a sin !" 
 
 There was enough in this statement to con- 
 vince me that the conduct of the Laird towards 
 the widow and her children had not heen ex- 
 actly in unison with public opinion, and I re- 
 plied, " that certainly, although to act according 
 to law never ought to be regarded as a sin, yet 
 times and occasions will sometimes arise when 
 it may be thought a shame as, for instance, 
 Laird, the treatment you are now suffering from 
 Rupees." 
 
 " But there's an unco difference at ween the 
 like o' me and Mrs Lounlans," was his answer ; 
 the force of which derived considerable empha- 
 sis from his pettish and mortified accent. He 
 added, however, in a lowlier tone " Rupees 
 might hae a decency for a neighbour that he 
 was sae blithe to mess and mell wi', either in 
 his ain house or here." 
 
 This egotism would perhaps have moved other 
 feelings than it did, had it been said at another 
 time, and not so immediately in comparison 
 with his own harsh treatment of her, on whom 
 he had been so willing to bestow his undimi- 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 77 
 
 nished fortune ; but to have reminded him of 
 any similarity in the aspect of their respective 
 impoverished circumstances, while he was sit- 
 ting in the defencelessness of age, and with such 
 evidence of effectless endeavour to avert inevi- 
 table ruin lying on his table, would have requi- 
 red the extenuation of some apology for myself. 
 Guilt in fetters hath claims on Charity which 
 Justice dare not forbid. 
 
 The reluctance of the old man to allow the 
 mediation of Dr Lounlans, was plainly to be 
 ascribed to any sentiment but contrition. The 
 paleness which overspread his countenance when 
 I first suggested the expedient, showed that his 
 feelings had a deeper source than pride, and 
 were mingled with recollections which awa- 
 kened the associations of sensual repugnance, as 
 well as those of moral antipathy. My curiosity, 
 in consequence, became excited to hear some- 
 thing more of the history of Dr Lounlans's fami- 
 ly ; and as I was still desirous, notwithstanding 
 the Laird's determination to the contrary, to 
 procure the Doctor's good offices to mitigate the 
 severity of the Nabob's proceedings, I resolved 
 to call at the Manse on my way home, partly to 
 
78 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 represent the unhappy state of the old man, and 
 partly, if chance favoured, to obtain some fur- 
 ther account of transactions so manifestly bitter 
 in the remembrance. Accordingly, after a few 
 general observations, chiefly of an admonitory 
 cast, as to the caution requisite to be adopted in 
 dealing with his adversaries, I bade the Laird 
 good afternoon, with a promise to return next 
 day. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AFTER leaving the house, and having pro- 
 ceeded about half-way down the avenue to- 
 wards the gate, which opened upon the high- 
 way, I paused and looked back with a much 
 greater disposition to indulge in an amicable 
 sentimental vein, than I had ever thought it 
 possible for the mortgage-mouldered gables of 
 Auldbiggings to have awakened. But in that 
 same moment I was roused from the reverie 
 into which I was falling, by the pattering of 
 footsteps nimbly approaching from the gate. I 
 knew those footsteps by the sound of haste which 
 was in them, and, could I have escaped unno- 
 ticed, I would have eschewed the evil of the 
 owner's presence. I was grieved, indeed, to 
 think that the Laird's impending fate had al- 
 ready become so publicly known as to call forth 
 
80 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the afflicting commiseration of Mrs Soorocks, 
 whose sole business and vocation in life consist- 
 ed in visiting those among her neighbours who 
 were suffering either under misfortune or an- 
 xiety, and feelingly, as she herself called it,"sym- 
 patheesing with their dispensation." But as it 
 was impossible to retire without being obser- 
 ved, I went forward with a quickened pace, in 
 order that I might not be detained by her. In 
 this, however, I failed ; for although I affected 
 to be in quite as much haste as herself, and on 
 more urgent business, she laid her hand upon 
 my arm, and entreated me to tell her all the 
 particulars, and if it was true that Mr Rupees 
 had been knocked down by the Laird ; sedate- 
 ly, and with a sympathetic voice, asserting her 
 perfect conviction that the rumours in respect 
 to that must be unworthy of credit. 
 
 " But," said she, " when the waur has come 
 to the warst, Auldbiggings has only to step 
 o'er the way to the house of Barrenbraes, and 
 make choice of one of the sisters for his liveli- 
 hood. Poor leddies, they hae lang waited for a 
 man to speer their price ; and in his state of the 
 
CHAPTER IX. 81 
 
 perils of poverty, he needna be nice, and neither 
 o' them has any cause to be dorty." 
 
 Now it happened that the maiden sisters of 
 Barenbraes, Miss Shoosie and Miss Girzie Min- 
 nygaff, had long been the peculiar objects of 
 Mrs Soorocks' neighbourly anxieties, and the 
 source of her great interest in their fate and 
 fortunes requires that some account should be 
 given of their family and peculiar condition. 
 
 In the days of their youth they had never 
 been celebrated for any beauty. Miss Shoosie 
 was at this time only in her fiftieth year, but so 
 mulcted of the few graces which niggard na- 
 ture had so stingily bestowed, that she was 
 seemingly already an aged creature. Her sister 
 looked no younger, even although, as Mrs Soo- 
 rocks often said, she had two years less of sin 
 and misery to answer for. 
 
 Originally there had been three sisters ; but 
 the eldest, during the life of their father, made 
 what he called an imprudent marriage, at which 
 he was irreconcilably indignant, because itdidnot 
 suit the state of his means to give his daughter 
 any dowry, an expedient not singular on simi- 
 lar occasions. Captain Chandos, the husband, 
 r 
 
2 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 an English officer of family and good prospects, 
 was on his part no less offended at being so 
 undervalued, and in disgust carried his bride 
 into Warwickshire, declaring his determination 
 never to hold any communication or intercourse 
 with her relations. Thus it happened, when 
 the old gentleman died, that the two spinsters 
 succeeded to the house and heritage, of course 
 there was no money ; but the estate was entail- 
 ed, and Mrs Chandos, as the first born, was the 
 heiress. Her sisters, however, never deemed it 
 expedient to make any inquiry respecting her ; 
 at the same time, they held and gathered as if 
 they hourly expected she would revisit them as 
 an avenger. This apprehension was accepted 
 by their consciences for the enjoyment they 
 derived from the indulgence of their natural 
 avarice. 
 
 When they had been some four or five years 
 in possession, a rumour reached the neighbour- 
 hood that Captain Chandos had succeeded to 
 the title and estates of his uncle, a baronet ; 
 and Mrs Soorocks being one of the first who 
 chanced to hear the news, with all the chris- 
 tian eagerness for which she was so justly cele- 
 
CHAPTER IX. S3 
 
 brated, lost no time in hastening to congratu- 
 late the sisters on the accession of dignity, which 
 had come to their family by that marriage, which 
 they with their father had so expediently re- 
 viled. 
 
 After relating what she had heard, she added, 
 in her most soothing manner : " The only thing, 
 Miss Shoosierthe only thing that I'm grieved 
 for, is the thought of what will become of you 
 and Miss Girzie in your auld days." 
 
 " Auld days !" exclaimed Miss Girzie. 
 
 " Deed, Miss Girzie," resumed the sympa- 
 thizing visitor, " it's a vera melancholious 
 thing ; for, as ye are baith never likely to be 
 married, it will come to pass in the course of 
 nature, that ye'll bely ve be at a time o' life when 
 ye can neither work nor want ; and no doubt 
 Sir Rupert and his Leddy will call on you to 
 count and reckon with them for every farthing 
 ye hae gotten o' theirs. Nothing less can be 
 expected from their hands, after the way they 
 were driven, in a sense, from home and hall, by 
 your father I hope it wasna true, though the 
 fact has been so said, that ye were art and ]>art 
 in that unpardonable iniquity and crying sin 
 
84 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 against family affection. But for all that, as the 
 English are well known to be a people of a turn 
 o j mind for generosity, I would be none sur- 
 prised to hear that the Baronet intends to be 
 merciful surely, indeed, he'll never be so extor- 
 tionate as to make you pay merchant's interest 
 at the rate of five per cent, when it is well known 
 ye have been getting no more than four from 
 the bank ; and as for the wadset o* your heri- 
 table bond on the lands of Auldbiggings, there 
 will be room to show you great leniency, for I 
 am creditably informed that if the estate were 
 brought to sale the morn, it wouldna pay thiiv 
 teen shillings and four pence in the pound." 
 
 But notwithstanding these prophetic antici- 
 pations, the spinsters were not molested. It could 
 not, however, be altogether said they were al-r 
 lowed unquestioned possession, for Mrs Soorocks 
 never saw them, either at church or in her vi- 
 sitations, without obliging them to endure the 
 kindest inquiries concerning Sir Rupert and 
 Lady Chandos. 
 
 One morning she called on them at rather 
 an unusual early hour with a newspaper in her 
 band, and a condoling spirit, most amiably ex^ 
 
CHAPTER IX. 85 
 
 pressive in the sad composure of a countenance 
 evidently dressed for an occasion of great solem- 
 nity. 
 
 " I'm in a fear, leddies," said she, " that the 
 papers hae gotten doleful news this day for you~ 
 Heh, sirs ! but life is a most uncertain possession, 
 and so is all worldly substance. But maybe it's 
 no just so dreadful as is herein set forth ; but if 
 it should be the worst, you and Miss Girzie, 
 Miss Shoosie, are no destitute of a religious 
 support; and it never could be said that the 
 Baronet was a kind brother, though, for that 
 matter, it must be alloo't no love was lost be- 
 tween you ; nevertheless, decency will cause you 
 to make an outlay for mournings, and consi- 
 dering the use ye have had of his money, ye 
 oughtna to grudge it/' 
 
 " And what's this Job's comforting ye hae 
 brought us the day ?" said Miss Girzie, some- 
 what tartly; but Mrs Soorocks, without an- 
 swering her pungent interrogation, gave the 
 newspaper to Miss Shoosie, saying 
 
 " Ye'll find the accidence in the second claW 
 of the third page ; see if ye think it's your gude- 
 brother that has broken his neck." 
 
86 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 She then addressed Miss Girzie. 
 
 " And if it should be your glide-brother, Miss 
 Girzie, really ye have much cause for thanks- 
 giving, for the papers say he has left a power of 
 money, over and forbye his great estates ; and 
 all goes to his only surviving child and daughter, 
 Clara, 'ceps a jointure of three thousand pounds 
 to his disconsolate leddy My word, your sister 
 has had her ain luck in this world ! Little did 
 either o' you think, in the days o' your worthy 
 father's austerity, that a three thousand jointure 
 would blithen her widowhood. But I doubt, 
 Miss Girzie, ye'll no can expec her to domicile 
 with the like of you, now when she's come to 
 such a kingdom." 
 
 Miss Shoosie having in the meantime read 
 the paragraph, handed the paper to her sister, 
 as she said 
 
 " Really, sister, it's very like the death of a 
 baronet ; but I see no legality that he was our 
 sister's." 
 
 " What ye observe," interposed Mrs Soorocks, 
 ** is no without sense, Miss Shoosie ; and sure- 
 ly, if.ye're treated by Lady Chandos just with a 
 contempt, it's no to be thought that ye'll put 
 
CHAPTER IX. 87 
 
 more hypocrisy on your backs than ye hae in 
 your bosoms. But, leddies, leddies, I see a jeo- 
 pardie gathering over you. Miss Claurissie, your 
 niece, she'll have doers ; and though her mother, 
 and her father, that the Lord has taken to him- 
 sell, scornt to molest you in this poor heritage 
 o' Barenbraes, the doers will be constrained by 
 law to do their duty as executioners depend 
 upon't, they will demand a restoration to the 
 uttermost farthing. Maybe, and it's no un possi- 
 ble, the doers may have heard of your narrow 
 contracted ways, and may think the money 
 cannot be in closer hands ; but for all that, be 
 none surprised if they come upon you like a 
 judgment. But even should they no disturb you, 
 as maybe Sir Rupert may in his will have so 
 ordered it, to show how little he regarded the 
 beggarly inheritance of your family, ye yet daur- 
 na wile away ae plack, the which is a sore mis- 
 fortune, for I doubt not, considering how light 
 the beggar's pock returns from your gates, that 
 both o* you have a kind intention to give the pa^- 
 rish a mortification. But come what may, put 
 oil in your lamps, and be awake and ready, for 
 it will fare ill with you if ye are found not only 
 
88 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 helpless old maids, but foolish virgins, when the 
 ehouts of the bridegroom are heard I mean, 
 when your niece comes to be married ; for it's 
 very probable that she'll be the prey o' a spend- 
 thrift ; and if such is the Lord's pleasure^ think 
 what will become of you then !" 
 
 Such for many years had been the circum- 
 stances and situation of the maiden sisters of 
 Barenbraes : still they were unmolested by any 
 inquiry from England, and still, as often as the 
 various vocations of her neighbourliness per- 
 mitted, they were as kindly reminded by Mrs 
 Soorocks of the audit to which they were liable 
 to be so suddenly summoned. Her idea, how- 
 ever, of counselling the Laird to pay his ad- 
 dresses to one of them, as an expedient to avert 
 the consequences of his impending misfortunes, 
 was not without a sufficient show of plausibility, 
 although it might really seem to be only calcu- 
 lated to furnish herself with additional causes 
 for the afflicting sympathy she took in their des- 
 tinies, and to augment the pungency of her con- 
 dolence. 
 
 At this period more than thirty years had 
 elapsed since the elopement of Lady Chan- 
 
CHAFl'ER IX. 89 
 
 dos, and still no intimation had been received, 
 in any shape or form, tending to verify the pre- 
 dictions of Mrs Soorocks ; it was therefore not 
 altogether improbable, that the martyrs of her 
 anxiety might be permitted the quiet enjoyment 
 of their possessions, at least so it appeared to 
 me at the time ; and accordingly, having wished 
 her all manner of success in her undertaking, I 
 pursued my own course towards the Manse, 
 while she posted on to Auldbiggings. 
 
90 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DR LOUNLANS was one of those modern or- 
 naments of the Scottish Church, by whom her 
 dignity, as shown in the conduct and intelli- 
 gence of her ministers, is maintained as vene- 
 rable in public opinion, as it was even when the 
 covenanted nation, for the sake of their apostolic 
 bravery and excellence, broke the iron arm both 
 of the Roman and of the Episcopal Pharaoh. 
 He was still a young man, being only in his 
 thirty-third year; but patient study, and the 
 gift of a discerning spirit, had enriched him 
 with a wisdom almost equal in value to the pre- 
 cepts arid knowledge of experience. 
 
 In his person, he affected somewhat more of 
 attention to appearance than is commonly ob- 
 servable in the habits of country pastors, the 
 effect of having had the good fortune to spend 
 
CHAPTER X. 91 
 
 several years as a tutor in a noble family, dis- 
 tinguished for their strict observance of those 
 courtesies and etiquettes which characterised the 
 aristocracy of the past age. His great superio- 
 rity, however, consisted chiefly in the power of 
 his eloquence, and the serene and graceful be- 
 nignity of his manners, in which the calmness 
 of philosophy and the meekness of piety were 
 happily blended with the self-possession of 
 worldly affability. 
 
 He had at this time been only eighteen months 
 in the parish, and although the Manse, under 
 his superintendance, had received many em- 
 bellishments, yet traces of the ruder taste of 
 his predecessor were still evident in the house, 
 the offices, and the garden. Mr Firlots belong- 
 ed indeed to another age and generation he 
 was one of those theological worthies who di- 
 vided their sermons into fifteen heads, and 
 planted in the same flower-bed cauliflowers and 
 carnations. The pulpit became paralytic under 
 his emphatic logomachies; and docks and nettles 
 grew as rankly in all his borders, as epithets un- 
 pleasant to ears polite flourished in the mazes 
 of his doxology. The docks and nettles, under 
 
92 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the auspices of his more refined successor* had 
 now given place to roses and lilies. The pul- 
 pit was repaired, and the desk thereof beauti- 
 fied with a new covering ; the weedy pathway 
 to the Manse door was trimmed into a gravelled 
 sweep edged with box, and alternate tassels of 
 red and white daisies, interspersed with flowers 
 of rarer name and richer blossom, adorned the 
 bed within. 
 
 On entering the house, I was shown into the 
 parlour, and obliged to wait some time before 
 the reverend young Doctor made his appearance. 
 \ I have always thought that the sitting-room 
 of a gentleman afforded no equivocal index to 
 his character, and certainly the parlour of Dr 
 Lounlans tended to confirm me in this notion. 
 It was in all respects well-ordered everything 
 was suitable, but a degree of taste pervaded 
 alike the distribution and the style of the fur- 
 niture, producing something like fashionable 
 elegance on the whole, notwithstanding the 
 general Presbyterian simplicity of the details. 
 
 I observed some indications of preparation for 
 a journey a portmanteau with the key in the 
 lock stood on one of the chairs, and near it on 
 
CHAPTER X. 93 
 
 another, lay several articles of apparel, with a 
 pocket Bible in two volumes, very handsomely 
 hound in purple morocco, and apparently quite 
 new ; indeed the paper, in which it would seem 
 the volumes had been wrapped, lay on the floor. 
 
 When the Doctor came into the room, I could 
 not but apologize for having intruded upon him ; 
 for although dressed with his habitual neatness, 
 his complexion was flushed, and he had evident- 
 ,ly been interrupted in some exertion of strength 
 and labour. 
 
 " I am on the eve of going for some time 
 from home," said he ; " and the fatigue of pack- 
 ing obliged me to strip to the work." 
 
 Curiosity is the sin which most easily besets 
 me, and this intimation of a journey, a journey, 
 too, for which such packing and preparation 
 were requisite, produced the natural conse- 
 quence. 
 
 You are, then, to be absent for some con- 
 siderable time ?" replied I, 
 
 " About three weeks, not longer." 
 
 " You do not, I hope, go soon ?" 
 
 " This evening, that I may be in time for the 
 earliest steam-boats from Greenock, in or-der 
 
94 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 to overtake the mail at Glasgow, in which I 
 have secured a place." 
 
 " But you might as well stop till the morn- 
 ing, for the Edinburgh mail will be gone before 
 you can possibly arrive at Glasgow by the steam- 
 boats." 
 
 " It is the London mail in which my place 
 is secured." 
 
 " You surprise me No one has heard of your 
 intention of going to London." 
 
 The Doctor smiled, and replied, a little, as I 
 felt it, drily he doubtless intended that it should 
 be so felt, 
 
 " Nor am I going so far as London ;" he then 
 added with his accustomed ease, " My journey 
 is to Warwickshire, and I only take the mail to 
 Carlisle." 
 
 To Warwickshire, thought I : What can he 
 have to do in Warwickshire ? It is very extra- 
 ordinary that a Minister of the Kirk of Scot- 
 land should be going to Warwickshire. In a 
 word, I was constrained to reply -. 
 
 " I hope your journey, Doctor, is to bring 
 home the only piece of furniture the Manse 
 seems to want ?" 
 
CHAPTER X. 95 
 
 He blushed a little and said, " You are not 
 far wrong ; the ohject of my journey is indeed 
 to bring home a wife ; but whether she will be- 
 come a fixture in this house, is not yet deter- 
 mined." 
 
 " I regret to hear you say so : I had hoped 
 you were among us for life. I have not heard 
 of your call. Is it to Glasgow or Edinburgh ? 
 Dr Chalmers is removed to St Andrews, and a 
 new church is building in Edinburgh." 
 
 " If there be any call in my removal from 
 this parish, I fear it may not be ascribed to the 
 wonted inspiration which governs, as it is said, 
 the translations of my brethren." 
 
 My curiosity was repressed by the cold pro- 
 priety with which this was accentuated, and be- 
 thinking that the object of my visit was not to 
 pry into the movements of the Doctor, but to 
 procure his mediation with the Nabob, in behalf 
 of our defenceless neighbour, the Laird I ac- 
 cordingly said, 
 
 "Dr Lounlans, I ask your pardon for the li- 
 berty I have taken ; but in truth there is reason 
 to lament your absence at this particular time, 
 for your assistance is much wanted in a case 
 
96 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 that requires a charitable heart and a persuasive 
 tongue, both of which you eminently possess : 
 Mr Mailings has fallen into some dimcul ties with 
 Mr Rupees," 
 
 " I have heard," replied the Doctor, " some- 
 thing of it ; he has incurred debts to him, and 
 to a large amount." 
 
 " Even so ; and the Nabob, as he is called, 
 threatens to foreclose the mortgage." 
 
 " In what way can I serve the old man?" 
 
 This was said with a peculiar look, as if there 
 was a movement of some reluctant feeling awa- 
 kened in his memory. 
 
 " By representing to Mr Rupees," said I, 
 " the harshness of the proceedings in which he 
 has embarked, and in what manner the effects 
 will injure his own reputation amongst us. 
 Without giving the poor Laird the slightest 
 notice of his intentions, he is already survey- 
 ing and valuing the estate." 
 
 " Indeed, indeed," replied the Doctor, that 
 is severe; almost as much so, to one so old and 
 helpless, as it is to turn the widow and the fa- 
 therless out of doors. I am grieved to hear of 
 Mr Mailings' misfortune, but my business does 
 
CHAPTER X. 97 
 
 not admit of postponement. Did he request 
 you to ask my interference ?" 
 
 " I will be plain : he did not. I have heard 
 something of the reason of his reluctance, but I 
 am assured, from your character, that you will 
 delight in returning good for evil." 
 
 " I cannot pay his debts," said the Doctor, 
 after a short pause, " and Mr Rupees is not a 
 man who will be persuaded to relent from his 
 purpose by any other than the golden argument." 
 
 " Could you, however, try ? He has but of late 
 come among us, and is evidently ambitious of 
 influence ; you might represent to him the aver- 
 sion which such indecent haste must universally 
 provoke. He may yield to shame what he would 
 refuse to virtue." 
 
 " Does the matter so press, that it may not 
 stand over till my return ?" 
 
 " So special a question, Doctor, I cannot an- 
 swer ; I am not acquainted with the actual state 
 of the poor old gentleman's circumstances. It 
 is only notorious that he is in the power of his 
 creditors, and that the Nabob shows no disposi- 
 tion to mitigate the severity which the law per- 
 haps enables him to inflict." 
 
98 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 The Doctor appeared to be somewhat embar- 
 rassed; he looked upon the floor; he felt if his 
 neckcloth was in proper order ; he bit his left 
 thumb, and gathered his brows into a knot, 
 which indicated the predominancy of the earthy 
 portion of his nature in the oscillations of his 
 
 
 
 religion, his reason, and his heart. 
 
 I looked at him steadily, but his eye was 
 downcast, not shunning the inquisition of mine, 
 but with that sort of fixedness which the out- 
 ward organ assumes when the spirit looks in- 
 ward. For some short space of time, it might 
 be as long as it would take one to count a dozen, 
 he remained thoughtful and austere. He then 
 began to move his foot gently, and he glanced 
 his eye aside towards me. There was sternness 
 in the first glance, in the second the lustre of 
 manly generosity, which in the third was dim- 
 med with a Christian's tear, and he covered his 
 face with his hands, as he said with emotion, 
 " How true hath been my mother's prophecy ! 
 The cruel, selfish, arrogant man, whose all of 
 worth lay in the earth and turf of his inheri- 
 tance, has I forget myself, no ; he has not yet 
 
CHAPTER X. 99 
 
 supplicated tlic help of those in whose beggary 
 he so exulted." 
 
 After a brief pause, and having wiped his 
 eyes and forehead, he turned round to me and 
 said, with a lighter tone, 
 
 " I will postpone my journey for another 
 day, and take a pledge in doing so from good 
 fortune to provide me with a seat in the next 
 mail. But I fear you overrate my influence 
 with Mr Rupees nevertheless, the task is one 
 which I feel may not be omitted, and I will do 
 my best endeavour to persuade him to pursue a 
 course of mercy. There have been things, sir, 
 which make this duty one hard to be underta- 
 ken ; but, thank God, the sense of what my cha- 
 racter as a minister of the Gospel requires, is 
 livelier in motive, than the resentful remem- 
 brance of early affliction." 
 
 It was accordingly agreed that he should 
 visit Mr Rupees in the morning, and I soon 
 after took my leave. 
 
100 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 AFTER quitting the Manse, I returned to wards 
 the path by which I had crossed the fields in the 
 morning. This course led me to pass the gate 
 of Auldbiggings, on approaching which, I ob- 
 served Jock sitting on one of the globes, which, 
 some time during the last century, had sur- 
 mounted the pillars of the gateway. He was bu- 
 sily employed in feeding a young hawk, which 
 he held compressed between his left arm and 
 his bosom. 
 
 At first I resolved to go by without speaking, 
 my thoughts being engrossed with the retribu- 
 tion to which Dr Lounlans had alluded, but 
 Jock himself, forgetful entirely of the ceremony 
 which he endeavoured to practise when I met 
 him on the Whinny Knowes, without rising or 
 
CHAPTER XI. 101 
 
 even suspending his occupation, looked askance 
 from under the brim of his hat, and bade me 
 come to him. There was something in this 
 over affectation of negligence which convinced 
 me he was sitting at the gate not altogether at 
 that time by accident, and I had indeed some 
 reason to suspect that he had placed himself 
 there on purpose to intercept me on my return 
 home ; for presently he began to sift me with a 
 curious sinister subtlety peculiar to himself. 
 
 " This is fine weather for a sober dauner," 
 said he, as I went up to him. " And whare 
 will ye walk in a path o' mair pleasantness, 
 than the road at ween your house and the Place ; 
 no that I would misliken the way to the Manse, 
 now and then, especially in the fall of the year, 
 when the yellow leaf tells of our latter end, and 
 the wind howls in the tree, like a burgher minis- 
 ter hallylooying about salvation." 
 
 " Upon my word, John, you spiritualize a 
 walk to the Manse as ingeniously as the Doctor 
 himself could do." 
 
 " Ah, isna Dr Lounlans a capital preacher ? 
 isna he a great gun ? He's the very Mons- 
 meg o' the presbytery." 
 
102 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " And yet, John, I understand that the Laird 
 has no particular esteem for the Doctor." 
 
 " Gentlemen are nae great judges o* preach- 
 ing," said Jock ; " it wouldna hae been fair o* 
 Providence to hae allowt them both the blessings 
 o' religion and the good things o' this world ; 
 and so the Laird being a true gentleman, by 
 birth and breeding, is by course o* nature no a 
 crowder o* kirks." 
 
 " But I should have expected that such a 
 faithful servant as you are, John, would have 
 been of the same way of thinking as your mas- 
 ter." 
 
 "In temporalities, in temporalities I'm a 
 passive obedient ; but in the controversy with 
 the auld tyrant that is called Diabolus, a name 
 which the weighty Doctor Drystoor says may be 
 rendered into English by the word Belzebub, 
 my soul is as a Cameronian, free upon the 
 mountains, crying Ha, ha, to the armed men. 
 But, sir, though I will allow that Dr Lounlans 
 is in the poopit a bright and shining light, yet 
 I hae my doots whether the mere man o* his 
 nature hath undergone a right regeneration." 
 
CHAFfER XI. 103 
 
 " Indeed ! You do not call his piety in ques- 
 tion ?" 
 
 " No ; but I dislike his pride. He has noo 
 been the placed minister and present incum- 
 bent of our parish mair than a year and a half, 
 and he has never paid his respeks at Auld- 
 biggings. I'm sure if I were the Laird, I would 
 ne'er do him the homage o* entering his kirk 
 door no, not even on a king's fast." 
 
 " John, there must be some reason for an 
 exception so singular to the usual pastoral at- 
 tentions which Dr Lounlans pays to all his 
 parishioners. I have heard something o* the 
 cause." 
 
 " Nae doot of that, for I see you are frae the 
 Manse, and I'se warrant was treated there baith 
 wi' toddy and jocosity, on account of our per- 
 adventure wi' John Angle's keeking wheels. It 
 would be mother's milk to the Doctor weel 
 kens he, that there's no a claw the fifteen lords 
 can put forth, the whilk Caption will leave un- 
 handled to rive the flesh frae the Laird's banes. 
 I'm speaking o' the Doctor in his capacity o' a 
 mere man." 
 
 " Then, John, let me tell you, you are very 
 
104 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 much mistaken. Dr Louiilans feels for the 
 situation of your master as a gentleman and a 
 Christian ought to do." 
 
 " As a Christian as a Christian he may 
 But will he pacify the Nahob?" 
 
 It was plain from this incidental expression, 
 that the cunning creature had been informed by 
 his master of the object of my visit to the Manse, 
 and that notwithstanding the repugnance shown 
 by the old gentleman at the idea of being obli- 
 ged to the Doctor, he was yet anxious to obtain 
 his mediation. It may be in supposing such 
 meanness I do him wrong, but that his servant 
 had no scruples on the subject, was quite mani- 
 fest; for in reply to my assurances that the 
 Doctor was not only distressed by what had ta- 
 ken place, but had undertaken to interpose with 
 Mr Rupees to avert litigation, and to suspend 
 this annoying survey of the estate, which I the 
 more particularly explained, in order that it 
 might be reported to the Laird, he said 
 
 " It would hae been an unco thing had he 
 refus't it, for he has baith the spiritual motives 
 of Christian duty and the carnal spite of up- 
 start pride to egg him on ; but whether it be 
 
CHAPTER XI. 105 
 
 the minister or the mere man that leads captive 
 captivity I'll sing wi' thankfulness, 
 
 Behold how good a thing it is. 
 
 And how becoming well, 
 Together such as children are, 
 
 In unity to dwell." 
 
 " But, John," said I, " what is the true cause 
 of the animosity between the Laird and the Doc- 
 tor ? I cannot think that the rouping out of Mrs 
 Lounlans, though a very harsh proceeding, could 
 have occasioned feelings of such deep and dura- 
 ble resentment. There must have been some 
 other cause." 
 
 " Cause, cause there was nae cause at a' 
 If courting a young widow by lawful means be 
 a cause, that was the cause Ye see, the short 
 and the lang o't is this, as no young gentleman's 
 education can be properly finished till he has 
 broken in on the ten commandements, the Laird, 
 after the burial of John Lounlans, threw a 
 sheep's e'e at the bonnie widow, as she was call- 
 ed, and thought to win her love by course o' law, 
 for her gudeman died deep in his debt. But 
 whereas is an ill-farr'd beginning to a billydoo 
 
106 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 so ye see, Mrs Lounlans, instead o* being won 
 to amorous delights by multiplepoinding, grew 
 demented, and taking the doctor minister, who 
 was then a three-year auld bairn and orphan by 
 the hand, she stood in the kirk-stile the better 
 day the better deed it was on a Sabbath and 
 there she made sic a preaching and paternoster 
 about a defenceless widow and fatherless babies, 
 that when our Laird was seen coming to the kirk, 
 soberly and decently, linking wi' his leddy mo- 
 ther, the weans in the crowd set up a shout 
 and he was torn frae her side, and harlt through 
 mire and midden dub, to the great profanation 
 of the Lord's-day, and the imminent danger of 
 his precious life. For mair than a month he 
 was thought beyont the power o' a graduwa, and 
 his leddy mother, before the year was done, diet 
 o' the tympathy or a broken heart. But how 
 the Doctor should hate our Laird for that hob- 
 bleshaw, I ne'er could understand, for the Laird 
 was the ill-used man." 
 
 Before I had time to make any comment on 
 this affair, we were joined by the indefatigable 
 Mrs Soorocks, returning from the Place. She 
 did not appear, by the aspect of her counte- 
 
CHAPTER XI. 107 
 
 nance, to have been so successful in her volun- 
 tary mission as I had been in mine ; but I could 
 nevertheless discover, that she had not altoge- 
 ther failed, and that she had something to tell ; 
 for immediately on coming up, she took me by 
 the arm and was leading me away, when she 
 happened to observe the work in which Jock 
 was employed. 
 
 " Goodness me !" she exclaimed, pausing and 
 looking back at him, " no wonder poor feckless 
 Auldbiggings is brought to a morsel sic ser- 
 vants as he has ! As I hae my een, the wasterfu* 
 creature's feeding the bird wi' minched collops 
 worms are ower gude for't and he's cram- 
 ming them down its throat wi' his finger ! For 
 shame, ye cruel ne'erdoweel ye'll choke the 
 puir beast." 
 
 What answer Mrs Soorocks got for her med- 
 dling, it may not be fitting to place upon im- 
 mortal record ; but she observed, when she had 
 recovered her complexion and countenance, as 
 we were moving away, that Jock was a real cu- 
 riosity, " He's just what Solomon would hae 
 been wi' a want, for his proverbs and parables 
 are most extraordinar ?" 
 
108 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MRS SOOROCKS' road homeward lying aside 
 from the path across the fields, I was obliged in 
 civility to accompany her along the highway, 
 and to forego my intention of taking the more 
 sequestered course^ not that she prohahly would 
 have scrupled to have gone with me in any di- 
 rection I might have proposed, but the public 
 road was the shortest way to her residence. 
 When the tasks of politeness are not agreeable, 
 it is judicious to abridge their duration a phi- 
 losophical maxim worthy of particular attention, 
 whenever you undertake to see an afflicting old 
 lady safely home. 
 
 When we had passed some twenty paces or so 
 from the entrance to the avenue of Auldbiggings, 
 my companion began to repeat the result of her 
 mission, by complaining of the familiarity with 
 
CHAPTER XII. 109 
 
 which the Laird allowed himself to be treated 
 by his man. 
 
 " When I went into the room, there was the 
 two," said she, " holding a controversy about 
 your mediation wi' Dr Lounlans, and Jock 
 was argle bargling wi' his master, like one ha- 
 ving authority over him, the which to see and 
 to hear was, to say the least o't, a most sedi- 
 tious example to the natural audacity of ser- 
 vants. It's true, that when Jock saw me he 
 drew in his horns, for the creature's no without 
 a sense o' discretion in its ain way, and left the 
 chamber ; but it's plain to me that yon is an ill- 
 rulit household, and were it no a case of need- 
 cessity and mercy, I dinna think I ought to hae 
 the conscience to advise the leddies o'Barenbraes 
 to hae onything to say tilPt." 
 
 " Then you have made some progress with 
 the Laird?" 
 
 " I hae made an inceesion, but no to a great 
 length ; for what do you think is the auld fool's 
 objection ? He's in a doot if either o' the leddies 
 be likely to bring him a posterity." 
 
 " A very grave and serious objection indeed ; 
 considering the motive by which you have been 
 
1 10 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 so kindly actuated, it could not but surprise 
 you." 
 
 " Surprise ! na, I was confounded, and said 
 to him, e Mr Mailings,' quo* I, * my purpose o* 
 marriage for you, at your time p' life, and in 
 your straitened circumstances, ought to hae 
 something more rational in view than the 
 thoughts of a posterity. But Miss Shoosie's no 
 past the power o' a miracle even in that respeck; 
 for Sarah ye ken was fourscore before she had 
 wee Isaac, and the twa-and-fifty mystery o' the 
 Douglas Cause, should teach you to hae some 
 faith in the ability of Miss Girzie, who, to my 
 certain knowledge, was only out of her forties 
 last Januar, for I saw their genealogy in their 
 big Bible. It was lying on the table when I 
 called at Barenbraes on Sabbath, and neither o' 
 the leddies being in the room, I just happened 
 to observe that twa leaves at the beginning were 
 pinned thegither, nae doot to hide some few o j 
 the family secrets. Gude forgie me, I could- 
 na but tak out the prin, and you may depend 
 upon it, that Miss Girzie was just nine-and-forty 
 last Januar. But I couldna advise him to hae 
 
CHAPTER XII. Ill 
 
 onything to say to Miss Girzie, and so I told 
 him." 
 
 " What do you mean ? I have never heard of 
 aught to her prejudice I have always indeed 
 understood that she was the most amiahle of the 
 two." 
 
 " Nae great sang in her praise ; but amiahle 
 here or amiahle there, is no a thing to he thocht 
 o', for it's no a marriage o' felicity that we're to 
 speed, but a prudent marriage ; and would it no 
 be the height o' imprudence for a man to lay 
 hands on the wally draig when he has it in his 
 power to catch a better bird ?" 
 
 " I do not exactly understand you, Mrs Soo- 
 rocks, for if there is any superiority possessed 
 by the one sister over the other, you allow that 
 Miss Girzie has it." 
 
 " I alloo of no such thing and were the 
 Laird to marry her, what's to prevent some 
 other needfu' gentleman (and when were they 
 plentier ?) frae making up to Miss Shoosie she 
 is the old sister, ye forget that wouldna deil- 
 be-lickit be the portion o' the younger couple ? 
 No, no, if Auldbiggings is to marry any o' them, 
 
THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 it shall be Miss Shoosie. It would be a tempt- 
 ing o' Providence if he did otherwise." 
 
 " But, my dear madam, are you not proceed- 
 ing a little too fast, in thus disposing of the led- 
 dies without consulting them should you not 
 ascertain how far either of them may be incli- 
 ned to encourage the Laird's addresses ?" 
 
 " What can it signify to consult them, if it 
 be ordained that the marriage is to take place ? 
 But if I hadna seen the auld idiot so set upon 
 a posterity, it was my intent and purpose to 
 have gane ower to Barenbraes the morn's morn- 
 ing, and given Miss Shoosie an inkling of what 
 was in store for her. But the matter's no ripe 
 enough yet for that." 
 
 " The growth, however, has been abundantly 
 rapid ; and I am sure, Mrs Soorocks, whatever 
 may be the upshot, that the whole business 
 hitherto does equal credit to your zeal and intre- 
 pidity." 
 
 " It is our duty," replied the worthy lady, 
 seriously, " to help ane anither in this howling 
 wilderness ; and noo may I speer what speed ye 
 hae come wi' Doctor Lounlans? for Auldbiggings 
 told me that he had debarred you from going 
 
CHAPTER Xir. 113 
 
 near him, the which, of course, could only serve 
 to make you the mair in earnest wi' the wark. 
 I'm shure a debarring would hae done so to me, 
 though ye' re no maybe the fittest person that 
 might hae undertaken it. But weakly agents 
 aften thrive in the management of great affairs, 
 and if ye hae succeeded with the Doctor, I hope 
 ye'll be sensible of the help that must have been 
 with you not that your task was either a hard 
 or a heavy ane, for the Doctor is a past ordinar 
 young man but there's a way of conciliation 
 very requisite on such occasions. Howsomever, 
 no doot ye did your best and I hope the Doctor 
 has consented to pacify the Nabob." 
 
 " Whether he may be able to succeed, is per- 
 haps doubtful," said I. 
 
 " And if he should fail," cried the lady, in- 
 terrupting me ; " I'll then try what I can do 
 mysell ; in the meantime, it's a comfort to think 
 he has promised, for really the circumstance o' 
 poor Auldbiggings requires a helping hand ; 
 weel indeed may I call him poor, for it's my 
 opinion he hasna ae bawbee left to rub upon 
 anither." 
 
 " But the promise," said I, " was given under 
 ii 
 
1 14 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 circumstances which makes it doubly valuable. 
 You are probably aware, though I had not heard 
 of it before, that the Doctor is on the eve of 
 marriage ?" 
 
 " Going to be married, and none of his parish 
 ever to have heard a word about it ! I think it's a 
 very clandestine-like thing o' him and whare is 
 he going, and wha's he to marry ? She canna 
 be a woman o' a solid principle, to be woo'd and 
 won, as it were, under the clouds o' the night." 
 
 " The Doctor and the lady, madam, I am 
 persuaded, have been long acquainted." 
 
 " I dinna doot that, and intimately too," re- 
 plied Mrs Soorocks, insinuatingly. " But what- 
 na corner o' the earth is he bringing her frae ? 
 We'll a' be scrupulous about her till we ken 
 what she is." 
 
 " I do not question the prudence of the parish 
 in that respect ; but if I understood him right, 
 she resides in Warwickshire." 
 
 " In Warwickshire ! that's a heathenish 
 part o' England. And so Madam o' the Manse 
 to be, is an Englishwoman, and of course o' a 
 light morality, especially for a minister's wife. 
 She'll be a calamity to the neighbourhood, for 
 
CHAPTER XII. 115 
 
 it will be seen that she'll bring English servant 
 lasses among us to make apple-pies and wash 
 the door-steps on the Lord's-day, as I am cre- 
 ditably told a* the English do. But did ye say 
 Warwickshire ? Lady Chandos and her dochter, 
 the heiress by right o' Barenbraes they live in 
 Warwickshire ; oughtna we to get her sisters, 
 the leddies, to open a correspondence wi' her 
 concerning the minister's prelatical bride for 
 she canna be otherwise than o' the delusion o' 
 the English liturgy and prelacy; and if neither o' 
 them will write, I'll write mysell, for it's a duty 
 incumbent on us all to search into the hidden- 
 ness of this ministerial mystery. Warwickshire ! 
 I canna away wi't the very sound o't flew 
 through the open o' my head like a vapour 
 weel indeed may I say that it's a mystery, for 
 noo when I think o't, the vera first time that 
 Doctor Lounlans drank his tea wi' me it was 
 the afternoon o' the third day after his placing 
 he speer't in a most particular manner about 
 the leddies of Barenbraes, and how it came to 
 pass that they keepit no intercourse by corres- 
 pondence wi' Lady Chandos. But is't no won- 
 derfu* that I never thought, then nor since syne, 
 
116 THE LAST OF TtiE LAIRDS. 
 
 o' speering at him about what lie ken't o' her 
 leddyship ? surely I hae been bewitched, and 
 mine eyes blinded with glamour, for I sat lis- 
 tening to him like an innocent lamb hearkening 
 to the shepherd's whistle. But I hae always 
 thought there was a providence in that marriage 
 of Lady Chandos, for she was an excellent and 
 sweet lassie, and now it has come to pass that 
 she may be a mean to guard her native land, and 
 her heritage too, against the consequence of the 
 manifest indiscretion o' Dr Lounlans' never-to- 
 be-heard- tell- o' connexion." 
 
 During this harangue, I endeavoured several 
 times to arrest the progress of the good lady's 
 suspicion and the growth of her conviction, that 
 the Doctor's marriage must be in some way de- 
 rogatory to his character and pestilent to his 
 parish, but it was all in vain ; my arguments 
 only rivetted her opinion more and more, until 
 wearied with the controversy T bade her adieu, 
 ungallantly leaving her to find the path to Ba- 
 renbraes alone, whither she determined forth- 
 with to proceed, " before it might be too late." 
 
[ 117 J 
 
 CHAPTER Xlil. 
 
 ALTHOUGH 1 did not expect to see Dr Loun- 
 lans until after his interview with the Nabob, 
 nor was under any apprehension of a visitation 
 from Mrs Soorocks, and had predetermined not 
 to call on the Laird without being able to carry 
 with me some consolatory tidings, I yet rose an 
 hour earlier than usual next morning, and felt 
 very much as those feel who have many pur- 
 poses to perform. 
 
 This particular activity was ingeniously ac- 
 counted for by Mr Tansie, the parish school- 
 master, who in passing by happened to observe 
 me at breakfast an hour before my accustomed 
 time ; and the parlour window being open that 
 I might enjoy the fragrance of the sweetbriar 
 which grows beneath it, he came forward and 
 complimented me on the good health which 
 
118 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 such solacious participation in the influences of 
 the season, as he called it, assuredly indicated. 
 
 The worthy dominie was generally known 
 among us as the philo, a title bestowed on him 
 by one of his own pupils, and which, not in- 
 aptly, described about as much of the philoso- 
 phical character as he really possessed. 1 was 
 no stranger to his peculiar notions, for we have 
 , often had many arguments together, and in re- 
 ply to his observation on the source of my en- 
 joyment of a spring morning, I said, after tell- 
 ing him something of what was impending over 
 the Laird, " But whether the impulses of acti- 
 vity by which I am so unwontedly stirred, arise 
 from any benevolent desire to lighten the mis- 
 fortunes of the old gentleman, or come from the 
 spirit of the vernal season, it would not be easy 
 to determine," 
 
 *' Not at all," said he, " they are emanations 
 of the same genial power, which prompteth un- 
 vocable as well as intelligent nature to bloom 
 and rejoice in the spring. It were easier indeed 
 to explain the motives of the breast, by consi- 
 dering the signs of the zodiac under which each 
 propelleth action, than by the help and means 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 119 
 
 of metaphysical philosophy. Are not all things 
 around us luxuriating in the blandishments of 
 the spring ? the buds are expanding, the trees 
 are holding out their blossomy hands to welcome 
 the coming on of abundance, juvenility is leaping 
 forth with a bound and a cheer and there is 
 gladness and singing, and the sound of a great 
 joy throughout the whole earth ;. universal na- 
 ture overflows with kindness, and therefore the 
 heart of man is melted to charity and love- The 
 germinative influences of Taurus and Gemini are 
 now mingled, and good deeds and pleasant do- 
 ings among men have their seasonable signs in 
 the green fields, the musical bovvers, and the 
 promises of the rising corn." 
 
 " You explain to me, Mr Tansie, what I 
 never before rightly understood ; namely, why 
 primroses and public dinners come into season 
 together, and how it happened that lamb and 
 eleemosynary subscriptions at the same time 
 adorn the tavern altars of charity ; but now I 
 see how it is, they are all the progeny of the 
 same solar instincts." 
 
 " Can you doubt it ? why in summer are we 
 less active ? Do not the feelings of the heart 
 
120 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. " ^ 
 
 then like the brooks run low and small ? no 
 fruit tempteth the hand to gather the heat is too 
 great for hard labour, and the bosom wills to 
 no action ; while we lighten the burden of our 
 own raiment, who, beneath the dazzle of a burn- 
 ing noon, would think for merciful pity of 
 clothing the nude and those who are needful of 
 drapery ?" 
 
 " But how does it come to pass in autumn, 
 Mr Tansie, when Nature may be said to stand 
 invitingly by the way side, holding out her 
 apron filled with all manner of good things, that 
 man is then of a churlish humour, and delights 
 in the destruction of innocent life ?" 
 
 " It is indeed," replied the dominie, " a mar- 
 vellous contrariety : but the sign of the scrupu- 
 lous balance is a token of the disposition of the 
 genius of the season were we not moved by its 
 avaricious influence, should we so toil to fill the 
 garnels of gregarious winter ?" 
 
 " Then, according to your doctrine, Mr Tan- 
 sie, it must be fortunate for the Laird that his 
 rupture with the Nabob has not happened under 
 the aspect of Libra, and there may be some 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 121 
 
 chance at this genial season of Dr Lounlaiis suc- 
 ceeding in his meditation ?" 
 
 " Therein, sir, you but show how slightly 
 you have examined the abysms of that true as- 
 trology. Though the time serves, and all hu- ' 
 mane sympathies are at present disposed to che- 
 rish and to give confidence, yet are there things 
 on which the sweet influences of the spring shed 
 bale and woe, for the energy which it awaken- 
 eth on the doddard and the old, is as a vigour 
 put forth in age and infirmity, causing weakness 
 while it seemeth to strengthen. Mr Mailings is 
 of those whose berth and office have become as 
 it were rubbish in the highway of events. The 
 
 day of the removal cannot be afar off " 
 
 In this crisis of our conversation, and while 
 Mr Tansie was thus expounding his philosophy, 
 leaning over the sweetbriar with his arms rest- 
 ing 011 the sill of the window, on which he had 
 spread his handkerchief to save the sleeves of 
 his coat, I saw Mrs Soorocks coming across the 
 fields. That some special cause had moved her 
 to be abroad so early admitted of no doubt, 
 but whether her visit should relate to the mi- 
 nister's marriage, or to the misfortunes of oiu 
 
122 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 neighbour, it gave me pleasure at the moment, 
 for the imagination of the ingenious dominie 
 was mounted in its cloudy car, and so mending 
 its speed, that I began to feel a growing incli- 
 nation to follow in the misty voyage, not- 
 withstanding my long-determined resolution 
 never to engage in any sort of ratiocination in 
 the forenoon, a space of the day, however 
 well calculated for special pleading, particularly 
 unsuitable for theoretical disquisition, as every 
 lawyer and legislator must have often remarked- 
 
 On hearing the indefatigable lady's steps, the 
 dominie rose from his inclined position, and ga- 
 thering up his handkerchief from the sill of the 
 window, replaced it in his pocket ; but she had 
 more serious business in hand than afforded 
 time for any sort of talk with him. She came 
 straight up to the door, and announced herself 
 by knock and ring, without appearing to notice 
 him, though he stood with his hat off, and was 
 ready to do her all proper homage. 
 
 While the servant admitted her, the dominie 
 turned round again to the window, and said to 
 me, before there was time to show her into the 
 parlour, 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 123 
 
 " She hath had an incubus ;" and placing his 
 hat somewhat tartly doubtless displeased that 
 she should have passed him unnoticed he im- 
 mediately retired, evidently piqued at being so 
 slightingly considered, forgetting entirely the 
 immeasurable difference of rank between the 
 relict of a laird of a house with a single lum, 
 herself the co -heiress of, what Gilbert Stuart 
 calls, the harvest of half a sheaf, and a modest 
 and learned man, on whose originality and 
 worth the world's negligence had allowed a few 
 cobwebs the reveries of solitary rumination 
 to hang with impunity more to the dishonour 
 of those who observed them, than to the dete- 
 rioration of the material with which they were 
 connected. I saw the good man's mortification, 
 and, although almost as eager to hear what the 
 lady had to tell as she herself was evidently an- 
 xious to communicate, I started abruptly from 
 my chair, and, going hastily to the door, cried 
 out, " Show Mrs Soorocks into the library, 
 and I shall be with her immediately." 
 
 " No ceremony wi j me I'm no a ceremo- 
 nious woman, as you may well know," was the 
 answer I received, and, in the same moment, 
 
124 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 brushing past the servant at the door, she came 
 into the room, and, looking me steadily in the 
 face for the space of some four or five seconds, 
 portentously shook her head, and, unrequested, 
 walking to an elbow-chair, seated herself in it 
 emphatically, with a sigh. 
 
 I have never felt much alarm from any de- 
 monstration of that inordinate dread which 
 Mrs Soorocks, and her numerous kith and kin in 
 the general world, and in our particular envi- 
 rons and vicinity, are in the habit of displaying, 
 011 occasions which do not at all concern them- 
 selves ; but the threefold case of anxiety created 
 by the Laird's misfortunes, the minister's mar- 
 riage, and the intended co-operation with Pro- 
 vidence to raise up a husband for one of the 
 spinsters of Barenbraes, presented a claim to 
 attention which I could not but at once both 
 admit and acknowledge, by inquiring, in the 
 most sympathetic manner, what had happened 
 to discompose her ? 
 
[ 125 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WHEN Mrs Soorocks had fanned herself with 
 her handkerchief, and had some four or five 
 times during the operation puffed her breath 
 with a sough somewhat between the sound of a 
 blast and a sigh, she looked for her pocket-hole, 
 replaced the handkerchief in its proper deposi- 
 tary, then stroking down her petticoat, and set- 
 tling herself into order, thus began : 
 
 " It's a great misfortune to be of a Christian 
 nature, for it makes us sharers in a' the ills that 
 befall our frien's. I'm sure, for my part, had I 
 broken Mr Rupees' head with my own nieve, 
 and crushed Angle the land-surveyor's commo- 
 dity in the hollow of my hand, I could not hae 
 suffert more anxiety than I do in the way o' 
 sympathy at this present time, on account o* 
 the enormities of the law, which Caption, the 
 ettercap, is mustering, like an host for battle, 
 
126 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 against our poor auld doited and defenceless 
 neighbour. But a' that is nothing to the vexa- 
 tion I'm obliged to endure frae the contumacity 
 o' yon twa wizzent and gaizent penure pigs o' 
 Barenbraes." 
 
 "You have perhaps yourself, madam, to blame 
 a little for that ; you need not, I should think, 
 meddle quite so much in their concerns." 
 
 " But I cannot help it it's my duty. I find 
 myself as it were constrained by a sense of grace 
 to do what I do. Far, indeed, it is frae my heart 
 and inclination to scald my lips in other folks' 
 kail, and why should I ? Is there any homage 
 frae the warld as my reward ? Let your own 
 hearts answer that. And as for gratitude frae 
 those I sae toil to serve, the huff o' Miss Shoosie 
 Minnygaff is a vera gracious speciment." 
 
 From the tenor of these observations, and 
 particularly from the manner in which they 
 were uttered, 1 began to divine that the worthy 
 lady had not been altogether so successful in 
 her matrimonial project with the maiden sisters 
 as she had been with Auldbiggings, and I ex- 
 pressed my regret accordingly. 
 
 "Deed," replied she, "ye were ne'er farther 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 127 
 
 wrang in your life, great as your errors both in 
 precept and in practice may hae been. But no 
 to mind an ill-speaking world on that head, 
 what would ye think I hae gotten for my pains 
 frae the twa, Hunger and Starvation, as I canna 
 but call them ?" 
 
 " It is impossible for me to imagine they are 
 strange creatures ; I should be none surprised 
 if they were unreasonable in their expectations 
 as to the jointure which Auldbiggings may be 
 able to afford ; poor man, I fear he has nothing 
 in his power." 
 
 " Guess again, and, if ye hope to succeed, 
 guess an impossibility." 
 
 " Pin money." 
 
 " Pin snuffy ! They too hae their doubts if 
 the Laird will connive at a right way o' educa- 
 tion for their children ! Did ye ever hear the 
 like o' that ? And wha do you think the objec- 
 tion first came frae ? Miss Shoosie auld Miss 
 Shoosie ; the sight o' her wi' a child in her arms 
 would be like a lang-necket heron wi' a lamb 
 in it's neb, or a Kitty Langlegs dan'ling a bum- 
 bee ; the thing's an utter incapability o' nature, 
 and so I said to her." 
 
128 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " That explains her ingratitude. I certainly, 
 my dear Mrs Soorocks, cannot approve of throw- 
 ing cold water on her hopes of a posterity, espe- 
 cially as the only objection which the Laird made 
 to the ladies, was an apprehension of disappoint- 
 ment in that respect." 
 
 "Sir, the thing is no to be dooted ; but I should 
 tell you her speech o' folly on the occasion. ' To 
 be sure, sister,' said she, speaking to Miss Girzie, 
 when I had broken the ice, 6 Mr Mailings is a 
 man o' family ; and though in his younger years 
 he did marry below his degree, yet noo that his 
 wife is dead, she can never be a blot in a second 
 marriage. But then he's a most stiif-neckit man 
 in the way of opinion, and I doot, if ever him and 
 me were married, that we would agree about the 
 way o' bringing up our children ; for if I were 
 to hae a dochter,' quo' she, ' and wha knows 
 if ever I shall' I could thole this no longer," 
 exclaimed Mrs Soorocks, " and so, as plainly 
 as I was pleasant, I said, Everybody kens 
 weel aneugh, Miss Shoosie, that ye'll never hae 
 a dochter.' And what think you got I for tell- 
 ing her the true even-doun fact?" 
 11 
 
i HAPTER XIV. 129 
 
 " Probably whatever she had in her hand." 
 " O, ye're a satcrical man ! to judicate that 
 leddies would be flinging housholdry at ane ani- 
 ther's lira.lv ! But she did far waur. I never be- 
 held such a phantasic. She rose from her chair, 
 her een like as they would hae kindled candles, 
 though her mouth was as mini as a May puddock, 
 and crossing her fingers daintily on her busk, 
 she made me a ceremonious curtsey, like a maid 
 of honour dancing a minaway wi' the lord-chan- 
 cellor, and said, * Mrs Soorocks, I thank you.' 
 I was so provoked by her solemnity, that I could 
 na but make an observe on't, saying, ' Hech, sirs, 
 Miss Shoosie, it must be a great while since ye 
 were at a practeesing, for really ye' re very stiff 
 in the joints. I hae lang kent ye were auld, 
 but I didna think you were sae aged. I canna, 
 therefore, be surprised at your loss o' temper ; 
 for when folks lose their teeth, we needna look 
 for meikle temper amang them ; the which 
 causes me to understand what Mr Mailings 
 meant when he said, that between defects and 
 infirmities ye were a woman past bearing. But, 
 Miss Shoosie, no to exasperate you beyond what 
 is needful in the way o' chastisement, ye'll just 
 i 
 
130 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 sit doun in your chair and compose yourself, 
 for ye'll no mak your plack a bawbee in stri- 
 ving wi' me in satericals, the more especially as, 
 by what I hae seen o' your dispositions this day, 
 I canna marvel at your being rejected o' men 
 na, but rue wi' a contrite spirit that I should 
 ever hae been so far left to mysell, as to even sic 
 a weak veshel to a gentleman of good account 
 as they say in the babes in the wood like that 
 most excellent man, Mr Mailings, who, if he 
 were to lift the like o' you wi' a pair o' tangs, 
 ye might account yourself honoured ; and yet I 
 was proposing him for a purpose o' marriage ! 
 But, Miss Shoosie, I'll be merciful, and treat 
 you wi' the compashion that is due to a sinful 
 creature ;' and then I kittled her curiosity con- 
 cerning the minister's marriage wi' a leddy in 
 Warwickshire ; so ye see she's no a match for 
 me, as I could make her know, feel, and under- 
 stand, but for the restraining hand o' grace that 
 is upon me." 
 
 " On the topic of Dr Lounlans' marriage, 
 Mrs Soorocks, how did you handle that ?" 
 
 " Weel may ye speer, and the gude forgie me 
 if I wasna tempted to dunkle the side o* truth 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 131 
 
 for I said, Leddies, what I hae been saying about 
 the sheep's ee that the Laird would be casting at 
 you, is a matter for deep consideration. Be nane 
 surprist if ye hear o' very extraordinar news 
 frae Warwickshire. I'll no venture to guess 
 what's coming out o' that country ; but I hae 
 had a dream and a vision of a fair lady dressed 
 in bridal attire look you to what blood's in her 
 veins." 
 
 " How, Mrs Soorocks ! did you say that the 
 Doctor is going to marry their niece ?" 
 
 " I said nae sic a thing, and I request that 
 ye'll cleck no scandal wi' me ; but, knowing 
 what I do know, and that's what you yoursell 
 taught me, could I omit a seasonable opportu- 
 nity for touching them on the part of soreness, 
 in the way of letting them know that riches 
 make to themselves wings and flee away to the 
 uttermost ends of the earth ? * Be none astound- 
 ed,' said I, ' leddies, if ye look forth some morn- 
 ing from your casements, and behold all your 
 hainings and gatherings, your pinchings, your 
 priggings, your counts and reckonings, fleeing 
 away to Warwickshire, like ravens and crows, 
 
132 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 and other fowls o ? uncanny feather, or maybe 
 the avenger, in the shape of a sound young mi- 
 nister of the Gospel o' peace, coming to herry 
 you out o' house and home.' " 
 
 " But, my good madam, how can you recon- 
 cile all these inuendoes with that strict regard to 
 truth which you so very properly on most oc- 
 casions profess ? These unhappy ladies cannot 
 but imagine that Dr Lounlans is going to marry 
 their niece, a circumstance which you have not 
 had from me the slightest reason to imagine." 
 
 " Is't a thing impossible?" cried Mrs Soo- 
 rocks ; " answer me that ; and if it's no impos- 
 sible, why may it not be ? I'm sure Providence 
 couldna gie a finer moral lesson than by ma- 
 king it come to pass." 
 
 " Am I to understand, then, from all this, 
 that there is no great likelihood of Mr Mailings 
 being extricated from his difficulties by mar- 
 riage with either of the sisters ?" 
 
 " It's no yet to be looked upon as a case o' 
 desperation, for, handle! wi' discretion, I think 
 the weakness on both sides concerning the edu- 
 cation o' their posterity really the very words 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 133 
 
 would provoke a saint but, as I was saying, if 
 we can overcome that weakness, a change may 
 be brought about." 
 
 " But, my dear madam, is there no other 
 among our friends and neighbours whom you 
 might propose to the Laird ? Considering the 
 precarious situation of the ladies of Baren- 
 braes, there is some risk, you know, of his con- 
 dition being made much worse, should a de- 
 mand for restitution come upon them. I have 
 been much struck, Mrs Soorocks, with the kind 
 interest which you take in the old gentleman's 
 affairs, might I suggest " 
 
 " Would ye even me to him ?" cried the lady, 
 raising her hands and throwing herself back in 
 her chair ; " and do you think that I would 
 ever submit to be a sacrifice on the altar o' po- 
 verty for a peace-offering to the creditors of 
 Auldbiggings No : gude be thankit, and my 
 marriage articles, I'm no just sae forlorn. It's 
 vera true that, in the way of neighbourliness, I 
 hae a great regard for Mr Mailings, and that 
 the twa innocent auld damsels are far-off con- 
 nexions of mine, with whom I hae lived on the 
 best o' terms; but regard's no affection, and con- 
 
134 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 nexions are neither flesh nor blood ; moreover, 
 there's an unco odds atween doing a service and 
 becoming a slave, as the blithe days that I spent 
 with my dear deceased husband have well in- 
 structed me to know ; I own we had our differ- 
 ences like other happy couples for Mr Soor- 
 ocks had a particular temper but knowing 
 what I know, it would be a temptation indeed 
 that would bribe me to ware my widowhood on 
 another man, especially one of an ineffectual 
 character, like the helpless bodie that's sae 
 driven to the wall." 
 
 At this crisis of our conversation we were 
 interrupted by one of the Nabob's servants, with 
 a note, requesting, in the most urgent manner, 
 to see me. However ill-timed, as Mrs Soorocks 
 said it was, I was yet glad at the message, and 
 indeed feigned more alacrity than I felt in 
 obeying it, and jn wishing her good morning. 
 
[ 135 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT was a sunny and a hot, rather than a sul- 
 try day, when I approached Nawaubpore, the 
 newly-erected mansion of the Nabob around 
 which, everything displayed the wealth and 
 taste of the owner. 
 
 The lodges at the gate were built in the style 
 of pagodas. It was intended that they should 
 represent the grand Taj or Targe of Agra ; but 
 some of those defects inherent in all copies, made 
 them, in many respects, essentially different 
 from their model ; the minarets performing the 
 functions of chimneys, and the cupolas those of 
 dove-cots : the gate itself was a closer imita- 
 tion of the Fakeir-gate of Delhi. 
 
 The avenue from this gorgeous Durwaja con- 
 sisted of two rows of newly-transplanted lime- 
 trees, shorn of their tops and branches, each 
 
136 THE LAST OJb Til K LAIRDS. 
 
 bound with straw ropes, and propp'd by three- 
 fork'd sticks, to keep them in a perpendicular 
 position, until their truncated roots, as the bo- 
 tanists express it, should have again fastened 
 themselves in the earth. In the park, groups of 
 trees were placed similarly circumstanced, pro- 
 tected from the inroads of the cattle by pali- 
 sades of split Scotch fir, connected by new rough- 
 sawn rafters of the same material. In the 
 distance, notwithstanding the metamorphoses 
 which the moss had undergone, I recognized 
 my old acquaintances, the venerable ash-trees, 
 which had surrounded and overshadowed the 
 ancestral cottage of the Burrah Sahib, now ser- 
 ving as a skreen to a riding-house, framed of 
 timber, and tinted with a mixture of tar and 
 ochre into a mullagatawny complexion. 
 
 The court of offices occupied the fore-ground 
 between the Hippodrome and the Burrah ghur. 
 They were in the purest style of classic archi- 
 tecture. . Whether the plan was suggested to the 
 Nabob by that delicate discrimination, and that 
 exquisite feeling of propriety in art, for which 
 Mr Threeper of Athens, his legal adviser, is so 
 justly celebrated, or was procured for him by 
 
< II AFTER XV. 137 
 
 his maternal relative, a prosperous gentleman, 
 Archibald Thrum, Esq. of Yarns, and manufac- 
 turer in Glasgow, from the Palladio of the nor- 
 thern Venice, I have never been able satisfac- 
 torily to ascertain ; but the pile was worthy alike 
 of this Venice, and of that Athens, for in look- 
 ing in at the gate, a copy of the triumphal Arch 
 of Constantine, you beheld the cows tied to Co- 
 rinthian pillars, looking out of Venetian win- 
 dows. 
 
 The Burrah ghur, or mansion of the Burrah 
 Sahib, was a splendid compilation of whatever 
 has been deemed elegant in antique, curious in 
 Gothic, or gorgeous in Oriental architecture. It 
 was a volume of Elegant Extracts, a bouquet of 
 the art as rich and various as those hospitable 
 hecatomes of the cities on the banks of Clu- 
 tha, amidst which, according to the veracious 
 descriptions of Dr Peter Morris of Aberystwith, 
 the haggis and blancmange are seen shudder- 
 ing at each other. There a young artist might 
 have nourished his genius with a greater variety 
 of styles and combinations than the grand tour, 
 with an excursion to Greece and Stamboul, could 
 have supplied. Instead of a knocker or bell* 
 
138 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 a gong of the Celestial Empire hung in a niche 
 within the verandah, at the sound of which, the 
 folding doors 
 
 " self open'd, 
 
 On golden hinges turning." . . 
 
 On entering the vestibule, a Kidmutgar, who 
 was squatted on his hams in a corner on a mat, 
 rose to receive me ; he placed his palms together, 
 touching his forehead three times with his 
 thumbs, bowed to the ground, and then stand- 
 ing upright, pronounced in a voice of homage, 
 " Salaam Sahib." 
 
 He was habited in a kind of shirt of blue 
 cloth, with long open sleeves, and bound round 
 the loins with a blue and yellow rope. On his 
 head he wore a turban shaped like a puddock- 
 stool, and trimmed with yellow cloth and gold 
 lace. His wide silk drawers hung down to the 
 ground, and his slippers, embroidered with sil- 
 ver, looked up in the toes, like other vain things 
 in the pride of splendour. 
 
 I inquired for his master, and with a second 
 salutation as solemn as the first, he replied, "Hah 
 Sahib," and showed me into a room, one entire 
 
CHAPTER XV. 139 
 
 end of which was occupied with a picture re- 
 presenting a tiger hunt, in the fore-ground of 
 which, seated on the hack of an elephant, 1 din- 
 covered a juvenile likeness of Mr Rupees, and 
 in the hack-ground an enormous tiger almost as 
 big as a Kilkenny cat, was returning into the 
 jungle with a delicate and dandyish officer of 
 the governor's guard in his mouth. 
 
 When I had some time admired this historical 
 limning, another Oriental conducted me to the 
 library door, where, taking off his slippers, he 
 ushered me into the presence of the Burrah Sa- 
 hib. The room was darkened according to the 
 Indian dhustoor, and from the upper-end, by 
 the bubbling of a hookah, I was apprized that 
 there the revelation was to take place. 
 
 On approaching the shrine I beheld the Vish- 
 nu of Nawaubpore, garmented in a jacket, waist- 
 coat, and trowsers, of white muslin, with nan- 
 keen shoes his head was bald to the crown, but 
 the most was made of what little grey hair re- 
 mained on his temples by combing it out ; that 
 which covered the back of his head was tied in 
 a long slender tapering tail. He lolled in an 
 elbow-chair, his feet supported on the back of 
 
140 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 another, before which stood his Punkah wal- 
 lah, cooling his lower regions with a gigantic 
 palm-leaf fan, while the Hookah-burdhar was 
 trimming the seerpoos in the rear. 
 
 On hearing me announced, the Nabob started 
 to his feet, and shook me in the most cordial 
 manner by the hand thanked me for my ala- 
 crity in attending his summons, and ' before tif- 
 fin,' proposed to conduct me in person through 
 his ghur, modestly intimating that he did not 
 expect me altogether to approve of the prodiga- 
 lity of his tradesmen, at the same time insinua- 
 ting that, for himself, he was a man of plain 
 habits, and particularly fond of old-fashioned 
 simplicity. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HAVING perambulated the magnificent intri- 
 cacies and chambers of Nawaubpore, praising, 
 of course, to the utmost, all I saw, for which 
 may God forgive me but this is an age much 
 addicted to hypocrisy, and the purest minds are 
 necessarily tainted by the spirit of the times. 
 
 Carving and gilding everywhere appeared in 
 such profusion that no room was left for taste. 
 The furniture was numerous, cumbrous, and 
 excessive, and interspersed with it, above, below, 
 and all around, lay a miscellaneous assemblage 
 of splendid nicknackery, like those relics and 
 remnants of curiosities which remain in the 
 hands of an auctioneer after he has disposed of 
 whatever is valuable or really curious in the 
 executor-ordered sale of a virtuoso's collection. 
 Pictures by such artists as Zoffani covered tho 
 
142 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 walls, purchased, however, at Tulloh's sale- 
 room in Calcutta, at a price which, if told to 
 Mr Peele, would make him chuckle at the bar- 
 gain he got of the Chapeau Paille Derbyshire 
 spar vases, plaster busts, French clocks, inte- 
 restingly ornamental, but deranged in their ho- 
 ral faculties ; Dresden china swains and shep- 
 herdesses ; models, by Hindoo artists, of gates 
 and pagodas ; two verd antique pillars on cas- 
 ters in the dining-room, atoned for supporting 
 nothing, by being hollow, and containing within 
 post-csenobitical utensils; feather fans, Pekin 
 Mandarins, Flemish brooms, musical snuff-boxes, 
 large china jars, japanned cabinets, spacious 
 mirrors, and icicled lustres all so disposed as 
 to produce the utmost quantum of confusion, 
 with the least possible contribution to comfort. 
 Tiffin was served in the breakfast-room. It 
 consisted of cold meats, hot curries, mullaga- 
 tawney soup, kabobs, pillaws, and a fowl fried 
 with onions to a cinder, bearing the brave name 
 of country captain ; ale (Hodson's of course), 
 claret, genuine from the vaults of Carbonelle, 
 and the far-famed Madeira, so fatal to the poor 
 Laird, and which, according to his account. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 148 
 
 had been sixteen years in a wood in the bay of 
 Bengal. 
 
 Our conversation in the meantime was va- 
 rious and desultory, so much so that I began to 
 wonder for what purpose my presence had been 
 so urgently requested at Nawaubpore, and for 
 what object I was treated with such distinguish- 
 ed consideration, till I happened to fill myself a 
 glass of Madeira, while partaking of the currie. 
 
 " My good friend," said the Nabob, in a tone 
 of alarm, placing his hand on my arm to restrain 
 me, " do you mean to make a suttee of yourself ? 
 but I need not be surprised at you doing such 
 a thing, for I have seen a candidate for the Di- 
 rection, and a successful one too, do the very 
 same thing Need we wonder at the blunders 
 in the government of India, when we meet with 
 such ignorance of Indian affairs among the 
 ghuddahs of Leadenhall-street ? The Paugul 
 was a Cockney banker do you know he was so 
 absurd as to ask me across the table it was in 
 the London Tavern his Majesty's ministers 
 were present whether the Coolies carried the 
 Dhoolies, or the Dhoolies the Coolies ! One of 
 
144 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the ministers looked significantly at me, and 
 said that he believed it was a doubtful question ; 
 but another, who sat next me, whispered, that 
 if, like the Court of Directors, they got on in any 
 way, it mattered little which was beast arid 
 which burden. By the by, it was on the same 
 occasion that the pious member of the Durban 
 stated, and to me too, the singular progress and 
 great fruits which had blessed the labours of the 
 Missionaries in the East. * D n the blessing,' 
 said I I begged his lordship's pardon for the 
 damn ' they have only taught a dozen or too 
 parish soors to eat beef, and drink as much rum 
 as they can steal.' < That, however,' said ano- 
 ther minister, whom I observed particularly at- 
 tentive to my remark, ' that, however, is a step 
 in the progress of wants ;' and he added, ' having 
 once acquired a desire for beef and rum, their 
 industry will thence be stimulated to obtain these 
 luxuries, and a superior morality will be gradu- 
 ally evolved by the consequent cultivation of 
 industry.' < The stealing of which you speak, is 
 something like the turbidness of fermentation, a 
 
 natural and necessary stage in the process of re- 
 is 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 145 
 
 finement, which will produce wine or vinegar, 
 as the case may be,' replied I ; upon which ano- 
 ther of them interposed mildly, saying, * I am 
 quite sure that by the late reduction of the duty 
 on wine, a reduction in the consumption of ar- 
 dent spirits must supervene, and that the change 
 will be salutary to the best interests of our In- 
 dian population. 7 " 
 
 By this time the Nabob had bestowed so much 
 of his tediousness upon me, that I here attempt- 
 ed to break the thread of his discourse ; but al- 
 though I did so with all my wonted address, he 
 was on a subject congenial to the Indian tem- 
 perament the sayings and doings of great men 
 and he would not be interrupted, for without 
 noticing my impatience, which he ought to have 
 done, he continued 
 
 " There was another Peshwa, who had par- 
 ticular views of his own, for what he called the 
 amelioration of Indian society ; the principle of 
 his plan was by a transfusion of a portion of the 
 redundant piety of the United Kingdom into 
 what he called the arterial ramifications of Ori- 
 ental mythology " 
 
 At this crisis one of the servants entered 
 
 K 
 
146 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 with the customary salaam, and said some- 
 thing in his own language to the Burrah Sa- 
 hib, who answered him abruptly " Hemera 
 bhot bhot salaam do doosera kummera recdo 
 bolo;" and turning to me, he added, " Padre 
 Lounlans sent a chit this morning, to say he 
 would call on me about the affairs of that d d 
 sirdar Paugul the Laird, and I wish to consult 
 you before seeing him. The murderous old 
 decoit and his Junglewallah of a servant, while 
 I was only ascertaining whether or not he had 
 cheated me in the extent of his estate, on which 
 I, like a fool, have advanced twice as much mo- 
 ney as I dare say it is worth, charged upon me 
 like a brace of Mahrattas, and with a lump of 
 a lattee smashed my surveyor's theodolite. Mr 
 Caption, my vakeel, is ready to take his oath 
 before a magistrate, (if he has not done it al- 
 ready,) that they were guilty of assault and bat- 
 tery ; against the laws of this and every other 
 well-governed realm ; inasmuch as, on the 19th 
 of the present month of June, or on some day 
 or night of that month, or on some day or night 
 of the month of May preceding, or of July fol- 
 lowing, they did, with malice aforethought, 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 14-7 
 
 thump, beat, batter, bruise, smash, break, and 
 otherwise inflict grievous bodily injury on one 
 theodolite But not to waste our time now on 
 the law of the case, I have no doubt that the 
 Padre is sent to negotiate a treaty. Now, do 
 you think that where a Rajah has an undisputa- 
 ble right to a Zemendary, and the Kilhdar re- 
 sists his authority in the persons of his army 
 and artillery, (I mean Caption, Angle, and his 
 theodolite,) the Rajah ought not to tuck him up, 
 as was done at Faluari in the business of the 
 Deccan ? By the by, the delay in the payment 
 of the Deccan prize-money is too bad ; had my 
 friend old Frank suspected such proceedings, he 
 would have made a drum-head division of the 
 loot. I remember when I was attached to the 
 Residency at Rumbledroog, about thirty years 
 ago, that a detachment under the command of 
 my friend Jack Smith, stormed a hill fort where 
 he found considerable treasure ; so he told the 
 paymaster to make out a scale, and all the coin- 
 ed money was first divided, and then the bullion 
 and jewels were weighed and measured out. 
 Jack got two quarts of rings, which were picked 
 off by the drum-boys from the toes of the ladies 
 
148 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 of the Zenana in the glorious moment of vic- 
 tory ; but the d d lootwallah of a paymaster 
 slyly cribbed a large diamond, which imme- 
 diately touched him I suppose with the liver 
 complaint, for he soon after gave in his resig- 
 nation on that pretext, and sailed for Europe. 
 On reaching London, he went immediately into 
 Parliament, and has ever since been presiding 
 at missionary meetings and Bible societies, and 
 be d d to him !" 
 
 At this pause I interposed and reminded the 
 Nabob that Dr Lounlans was waiting. 
 
 " True, true," said he, " I had forgotten him ; 
 but old stories, and anything like fraud or op- 
 pression, make me forget myself, and neglect 
 my own affairs. Had it not been for the warmth 
 and generosity of my feelings in that way when 
 I was at devil take it, I am at it again let us 
 go at once and hear what the Padre has got to 
 say." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE Nabob bustled on before me to the room 
 where Dr Lounlans was waiting, and, leaving 
 me to follow, went forward and received the 
 reverend gentleman with a hearty jocular urba- 
 nity. 
 
 " Warm weather, Doctor, this," said he ; 
 " never felt the heat more oppressive in Ben- 
 gal, except a day or two during the hot winds, 
 but even there you can keep it out by means of 
 tatties, you know. Here, in Europe, we are 
 still very far behind. Houses are very good for 
 winter and wet weather, not at all adapted for 
 the summer climate ; but when I have once got 
 Nawaubpore in proper order, I'll make my 
 own climate, as the Nawaub of Lucknow told 
 Lord Wellesley I'll have a subterranean par- 
 lour for the hot season. But hadn't you better 
 take some sherbet, or a glass of sangarce, after 
 
150 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 your walk ? My aubdaar will cool it for you, 
 with a whole seer of saltpetre: for my ice-house 
 has gone wrong, you know, by the mason lead- 
 ing the drain of the wash-house through it, like 
 ad d old fool as he was. I beg your pardon, 
 Doctor " 
 
 Dr Lounlans had evidently prepared himself 
 for the interview : his manner was dry, cold, 
 and almost repulsive, as he said, " No offence 
 to me," dwelling emphatically on the last word, 
 and adding 
 
 " The business, Mr Rupees, which has in- 
 duced me to postpone a journey until I could 
 see yourself, is very urgent, and I hope it is con- 
 venient to let me proceed with it." 
 
 The Nabob was somewhat taken aback at the 
 abruptness of this commencement; but, signifi- 
 cantly winking to me, requested the Doctor to 
 be seated ; and, throwing himself down on a 
 sofa, he lifted up one of his legs upon it, and 
 said, " I am all attention, Doctor." 
 
 Prepared as the young pastor was for his un- 
 dertaking, this nonchalance somewhat discon- 
 certed him, but he soon recovered his self-pos- 
 session, and replied, 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 151 
 
 " When I came into this parish, I understood 
 that Mr Mailings, your neighbour, was one of 
 your most particular friends." 
 
 "Well, and what of that?" 
 
 " And now I understand," resumed the mi- 
 nister, "that without any fault on his side, but 
 only the misfortune of having borrowed your 
 money, you have instituted proceedings against 
 him of unusual severity." 
 
 " Well, and what then ?" responded the Na- 
 bob, winking at me. 
 
 " Such rigour, in such a case," replied the 
 Doctor, " cannot, Mr Rupees, have proceeded 
 from the dictates of your own feelings, but must 
 be the effect of advice, in which your long ab- 
 sence from the usages of your native land has 
 been employed as much to the disparagement 
 of the goodness of your own heart, as to the pre- 
 judice of the solitary old man, your unfortunate 
 debtor." 
 
 The Nabob, putting down his foot, and assu- 
 ming an erect posture, looked a little more re- 
 spectfully towards the Doctor, as he said with 
 cordiality- 
 
 " I suppose, Doctor, you think that the peo- 
 
152 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 pie of India are less liberal than those of Eu- 
 rope, but they are a d d sight more so I beg 
 your pardon, Doctor. For myself, I never pre- 
 tended to be a philanthropist, but I have often 
 given fifty gold mohurs to an officer's widow, 
 when people of the same rank in Europe would 
 have thought a guinea prodigal. In this very 
 case, did not I lend the old Guddah ,3000 at 
 4 per cent, when consols were at 73, and when 
 I might have had ten in Calcutta from my friend 
 David, bear as he is ?" 
 
 " Your kindness in that respect, certainly," 
 replied Doctor Lounlans, " is not to be dispu- 
 ted ; but to exact a repayment at this particular 
 time, is turning your former favour into a mis- 
 fortune." 
 
 " Who says so ?" exclaimed the Nabob, re- 
 suming his recumbent posture on the sofa; " I 
 have not yet asked for my money, though the 
 last half year's interest has not been paid." 
 
 " Then you are unjustly suffering in public 
 opinion, for it is universally reported that you 
 have given instructions to your man of busi- 
 ness to demand repayment, and in the event of 
 refusal the poor debtor must of necessity re- 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 153 
 
 is also reported, that you have ordered 
 every measure of law to bring his estate to sale 
 at this time, when it is morally certain that it 
 will not sell for half its worth." 
 
 " Dr Lounlans," said the Nabob, looking 
 loungingly over his shoulder, and then winking 
 at me, 
 
 u The worth of any thing 
 
 Is just whatever it will bring." 
 
 The Doctor turned to me with dismay in his 
 countenance. He was conscious that argument 
 could make no impression, and apprehensive 
 that entreaty would prove equally ineffectual ; 
 but nevertheless he again addressed the Nabob, 
 in a firmer tone, however, than he had hitherto 
 employed 
 
 " Sir, such proceedings are not in unison 
 with the feelings of this country. Mr Mailings 
 is the representative of an ancient family; the 
 habits and affections of the people of Scotland 
 are still strongly disposed to take the part of a 
 man of his condition when he suffers from op- 
 pression." 
 
 " They were," replied the Nabob, drily; " but 
 
154 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 now, I suspect, they are quite as well disposed 
 to esteem those who, by their own merits, have 
 made their own fortunes, and have brought 
 home from other countries the means of impro- 
 ving their native land. I have myself spent 
 more money here, Dr Lounlans, on Nawaub- 
 pore, than all that the Mailings, since the Rag- 
 man's Roll, have had to spend, whether got by 
 thieving in days of yore, or by rack-rents and 
 borrowing in our own time." 
 
 " But, sir," replied the young minister, fer- 
 vently, " the day is yet far distant, and I hope 
 will long remain so, when the honest people of 
 Scotland will look tamely on and see mere 
 wealth and ostentation treading down their an- 
 cient gentry." 
 
 " Ay, honest ! Ah ! that's but a small por- 
 tion of the nation, even including the General 
 Assembly of the Church and the College of Jus- 
 tice. But if they were as numerous as the daft 
 and the imbecile, who, you will allow, are not 
 to seek among gentry of the landed interest, as, 
 indeed, in my opinion, they constitute the ma- 
 jority of the nation at large; for, you know, that 
 every man of sense and talent seeks his for- 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 155 
 
 tune abroad, and leaves only the incapable and 
 those who are conscious of their deficiencies at 
 
 home " 
 
 Apprehensive that the conversation might 
 become a little too eagerly pointed, I here in- 
 terposed, and said, to turn aside the sarcasm 
 which I saw Dr Lounlans was preparing to 
 launch : " Your observation, Mr Rupees, ex- 
 plains to me why it is so difficult to give any 
 correct exhibition of Scottish manners, with- 
 out bringing Tom o' Bedlams on the stage. In 
 the Parliament House of Edinburgh you may 
 
 " I beg, sir," said Dr Lounlans, interrupting 
 me, " I beg your pardon. Am I then to under- 
 stand, Mr Rupees, that you are determined to 
 persevere in your rigorous proceedings ?" 
 
 " I intend to do no more than the law per- 
 mits me to do. I will do nothing contrary to 
 law ; and if there is any rigour in the case, the 
 "fault is in the law, not in me." 
 
 " But," replied the Doctor, " consider public 
 opinion." 
 
 " D n public opinion," responded the Na- 
 bob " I beg your pardon, Doctor." 
 
156 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " But, Mr Rupees, reflect on the prosperity 
 with which it has pleased Heaven to crown your 
 endeavours." 
 
 " Well, sir." A short pause here inter- 
 vened, as if the Doctor felt in some degree de- 
 terred from proceeding ; hut presently he ral- 
 lied, and replied " The same Power that has 
 filled your cup to overflowing, hath seen meet 
 to empty that of your ill-fated neighbour, and 
 you should " 
 
 " Should,'* interrupted the Nabob, sharply; 
 " would you have me fly in the teeth of Provi- 
 dence?" 
 
 It was now evident, that, notwithstanding 
 the popular eloquence and many excellent qua- 
 lities of the Rev. Doctor, he was not pos- 
 sessed of stamina sufficient to stand a contest 
 with a character of so much energy as the Na- 
 bob, whose original strength of mind had been 
 case-hardened in the fiery trials of Indian emu- 
 lation and ambition, and whose occasional libe- 
 rality sprung more from ostentation and the 
 feeling of the moment, than from any regulated 
 generosity or sense of duty. 
 
 The Doctor rose somewhat flushed, and cold- 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 157 
 
 ly wishing the Nabob good morning, immediate- 
 ly left the room. I also rose and followed him. 
 The Nabob at the same time had likewise risen ; 
 and as I was going out at the door, patted me 
 on the shoulder, and chuckling with triumph, 
 said in a whisper, " Haven't I done for him ; 
 did you ever hear such a fellow ? Canning, I'm 
 told, calls my friend Sir John, Bahaddar Jaw, 
 but our worthy Padre would better merit the 
 title," 
 
158 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 ON leaving Nawaubpore, having bid adieu to 
 Dr Lounlans at the gate, I walked leisurely, 
 in a mood of moral rumination, towards Auld- 
 biggings. 
 
 It seemed to me that there was no chance of 
 mitigating the dispositions of Rupees, nor any 
 mode by which the old Laird could be extrica- 
 ted from his unhappy situation, save only that 
 which Mrs Soorocks had, as I thought, so im- 
 pertinently suggested. The more ; however, that 
 I reflected on her suggestion, ridiculous as it 
 had appeared in the first instance, the more I 
 became persuaded that it was not only plausible, 
 but judicious ; and accordingly, before I reach- 
 ed the avenue of the Place, I was resolved to 
 do all in my power to further and promote the 
 marriage. Fortune favoured the benevolent in- 
 tention. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 159 
 
 On approaching the house, I discovered the 
 old man seated, as his custom was ahout that 
 time of day, on his own louping-on stane. He 
 seemed more thoughtful than usual ; instead 
 of looking anxiously towards the high road to 
 see who was going to, and who coming from 
 the town, his head hung dejectedly drooping, 
 his hands, the one within the other, rested on 
 his knees. He was indeed so rapt in the matter 
 of his own thoughts, that he did not observe me 
 until I was close upon him. 
 
 After the customary interchange of morning 
 civilities, I told him that I had heen with the 
 Nabob, whom, with a prospective view to the 
 matrimonial proposition which I had determined 
 to urge, I described with lineaments certainly as 
 harsh as those which he had shown in the con- 
 versation with Dr Lounlans. 
 
 " Deed, sir," replied the Laird, with a sigh, 
 " it's a* true that ye say : he's as boss in the 
 heart, and as hard, as a bamboo cane ; but what 
 can ye expect frae the like o' him, or o' them, 
 as the worthy Mr Firlot used to say, " beggars 
 whom the Lord had raised from the dunghill, 
 to set among the princes of his people ?" Set 
 
160 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 him up indeed ! Before his mother's brother 
 sent him to Indy, I mind him weel a dirty duddy 
 do-nae-guid, that couldna even tak care o' his 
 father's kye ; for ae day he was sae taen up on 
 the brae wi' getten the multiplication-table by 
 heart (weel has it taught him baith to increase 
 and to multiply) that he left the puir dumb 
 brutes to tak care o' themselves, and ane o' them, 
 a silly stirk, daunert o'er the quarry-craig, and 
 was brained. But what am I to do ? to fight 
 in law wi' this Great Mogul, wud, wi' my light 
 purse, be as the sound o' the echo to the pith o' 
 the cannon-ball. Gude help me, I maun submit ! 
 And what's to become o' me, wi' thae feckless 
 auld hands, unhardened by work, and the book 
 o' my life but half written ? I may sing wi' Jenny 
 in the sang 
 
 1 I wish that I was dead, 
 But I'm no like to dee.' " 
 
 To such despondency it was not easy to offer 
 any immediate consolation, but I said, "It is 
 much to be regretted, Mr Mailings, that at your 
 time of life you have not the comfort of an agree- 
 able companion to cheer you. A man of your 
 2 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 101 
 
 respectability, I think, might do worse than 
 look out for a helpmate to lighten these cares 
 that have fallen in evil days on your old age." 
 
 " I have had my thochts o' that," replied he, 
 " but I fear I'm tyke auld, and November's no 
 a time to saw seed. But between ourselves, 
 I'm no overly fond o' the rule and austerity o' 
 a wife, after the experience that I hae had o' 
 the juggs o' matrimony that Mr Firlot set me 
 in for the business o' Babby Cowcaddens, 'cause 
 she had got an injury and wyted me." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that the late Mrs 
 Mailings was a woman of that description ? I 
 always heard her spoken of as one to whom 
 you were greatly indebted for the order and 
 frugality with which she managed your domes- 
 tic concerns." 
 
 " It would hae been an unco thing an she 
 had been in a faut," replied the Laird. " Nae 
 dout she rampaged up and down the house frae 
 Monday morning till Saturday night like a 
 roaring lion, cowing the lasses, and dinging me 
 about as if I had been nae better than a broom 
 besom, by the whilk we grew rich in napry and 
 
162 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 blankets. But O, she made dreadfu' saut kail 
 on Sunday !" 
 
 " But, Mr Mailings, is it the case that you 
 had been gallant to her before marriage ?" 
 
 " I canna deny but I might hae been, but she 
 was leed on if she wasna thranger wi' a Captain 
 Gorget that was recruiting in the toun." 
 
 " Who was she ?" 
 
 " Oh, she was weel eneugh in respec of con- 
 nexions, for she was the only daughter o' Cow- 
 caddens of Grumphyloan ; she had lost her mi- 
 ther vera young, and so, being edicated amang 
 the giglin hizzies and rampler lads o' the nee- 
 bouring farms, she was But, to make a lang 
 tale short, Mr Firlot said, that if I didna marry 
 her, she being o' sae respected a family, he wad 
 gar me repent in the bitterest manner he could ; 
 so that rather than be sae disgraced, o' the twa 
 evils I chose the least. But she's quiet noo, 
 and her bairn lies by her side, and has, I trust, 
 found a father on high, though its parent, by 
 the father's side, in this world, sure am I, must 
 hae been a matter o' doot when it was laid to 
 my door." 
 
 " Well, but, Mr Mailings, though your first 
 
CHAPTER XVI 1 1. 163 
 
 marriage was not a happy one, might you not 
 now, in your maturer years and riper judgment, 
 choose for yourself? There, for example now, 
 are the ladies of Barenbraes, excellent gentle- 
 women, rich, and of the purest character ; 
 could you, Mr Mailings, do better than make 
 up to one of them, and thereby obtain a careful 
 and kind companion, and free yourself from the 
 thraldom of the Nabob's oppression ?" 
 
 " That meddlin woman, Mrs Sourocks, was 
 here yestreen, on ane o' her sympatheezing vi- 
 sitations, and really spoke sensible on the vera 
 same head ; but ye know that baith the sisters 
 are past the power o' posterity, which is an ob- 
 jection, even if my heart didna tell me that I 
 ne'er could like either the tane nor the tither o* 
 them : they're no for a man that likes a free 
 house and a fu' measure : a' might be pushon 
 that's aboon the plook wi* them, * and that, ye 
 ken, wad never do for the hospitable doings o j 
 the house o' Auldbiggings." 
 
 Scotch pint-stoups, before the reformation of the imperial 
 measure, were made to hold something more than the standard 
 quantity, but at the point of the true measure a small papilla or 
 plook projected, the space between which and the brim was left 
 
164 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " Laird, better small measure than no drink." 
 
 That's a glide's truth; but Miss Shoosie's 
 very ordinar, and Miss Girzie ne'er was bonnie 
 I grue at the thochts o' either o' them." 
 
 " Mr Mailings, take the serious advice of a 
 friend, who feels for your situation, and do not 
 allow the fancies that may be pardonable in a 
 young head, to bring your grey hairs down with 
 sorrow to the grave." 
 
 At this moment Jock came running towards 
 us with a paper in his hand, crying, 
 
 " Laird, Laird, here's news, the king's greet- 
 in." 
 
 What's he greetin for?" said the Laird; 
 " I'm sure I hae mair cause, and it'll be lang or 
 ye'll see me greet." 
 
 I took the paper from the servant's hand, 
 and saw that it was a summons raised at the 
 instance of Hugh Caption, notary public, for 
 an assault 
 
 for an ad libitum, an exercise of liberality on the part of vintners 
 and other ministers to haustation. When, however, measure 
 was regulated by the scrimp rule, it was said proverbially of 
 those who did so, " that of their liquors all was poison abunc 
 the plook." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 165 
 
 " This," said I, " Mr Mailings, should put 
 an end to any scruples that you may have to 
 the ladies of Barenhraes ; and therefore, with 
 your permission, I will go to them before re- 
 turning home, and declare your desire to throw 
 yourself at the feet of one of them. If you 
 would take my advice, your affections should 
 be set on Miss Shoosie, for she's the eldest 
 sister." 
 
 " If I maun consent, I maun there's nae 
 help for't ; and so ye may just choose for me. 
 It's a sore thing for a man to be frightened into 
 his first marriage by the bow wow o* a kirk 
 session, and driven into a second by a coorse 
 
C 166 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XIX, 
 
 ON arriving at the house of Barenbraes, I 
 could not help feeling that my mission was one 
 of peculiar delicacy. It required, indeed, all the 
 consciousness of the henevolence and rectitude 
 of my intentions to reconcile me to the task of 
 confidant, or hlackfoot, as it is called in classic 
 Scotch, to such " a hraw wooer" as the Laird. 
 
 I hesitated before entering at the dial on the 
 green took out my watch, saw that there was 
 a difference of several minutes between the time 
 of the gnomon and the chronometer adjusted 
 the latter placed it to my ear to hear if it was 
 going not that my resolution to perform the 
 duty I had undertaken was in any degree wea- 
 kened. I only doubted as to the manner and 
 terms in which I should, as proxy, declare a pas- 
 sion at once so ardent and refined. 
 
 As I was leaning against the dial, I overheard 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 the voice of Mrs Soorocks with the sisters re- 
 sounding from the parlour. I went forward to 
 the door, which was open. I again halted there, 
 for the ladies were engaged in a vehement con- 
 troversy on the very subject of my mission. No 
 member of the corps diplomatique would lose 
 the opportunity of listening to the cabinet coun- 
 cils of the court with which he was to negotiate, 
 if he had it in his power, and therefore I stood 
 still. 
 
 The first words I distinctly made out were 
 from Miss Girzie. 
 
 " Deed, mem," said she, addressing, as it 
 wuold seem, Mrs Soorocks, " the old gentleman 
 has his failings, that ye must alloo." 
 
 " Failings !" replied Mrs Soorocks, " havena 
 we a' our failings ? and between friends, Miss 
 Girzie, ye hae your ain infirmities likewise." 
 
 Here Miss Shoosie interposed, with a decla- 
 ration to the effect that Mr Mailings would never 
 be the husband of her choice. 
 
 " Choice, Miss Shoosie !" exclaimed the Laird's 
 advocate, " Choice ! Mony a far better woman 
 than ye were in your best days never had a 
 choice. Really, at your time o' life, Miss Shoo- 
 
168 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 sie, ye ken ye're aulder than your sister you 
 ought to accept wi' a gratefu' heart, and be 
 thankfu' to Providence, if onything in the shape 
 o* a man is evened to you." 
 
 The widow made nothing by this taunt, for 
 the indignant spinster retorted, 
 
 " It would be gude for us a* if we saw our- 
 sells as ithers see us ; but if I could hae de- 
 meaned mysell to tak' up wi' sic men as some 
 folk were glad to loup at, I might noo hae been 
 in my widowhood. O but ye hae been lang obli- 
 ged to thole that dispensation, Mrs Soorocks 
 that was your ain choice, nae dout." 
 
 " Sister," said Miss Girzie, " surely ye for- 
 get that Mrs Soorocks has aye been vera obli- 
 ging to a' kinds o' wanters suitable to her 
 years." 
 
 " O ay," replied Miss Shoosie, " we hae 
 baith heard o' mair than ae instance o' her con- 
 descension." 
 
 " There was Dr Pestle," said Miss Girzie, 
 hi ! hi ! hi !" 
 
 " And Mr Grave, the relief minister, ha ! ha ! 
 ha !" responded Miss Shoosie. 
 
 " It was said you were particular to auld 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 169 
 
 Captain Hawser o' the press-gang," added Miss 
 Girzie. 
 
 " Was that true, mem ?" subjoined her sister 
 " I'm sure ony woman maun hae had a cheap 
 conceit o' hersell that would hae thought o' sic 
 an objik and only three parts o' a man too, for 
 he had a timmer leg." 
 
 To all this Mrs Soorocks replied with her 
 wonted candour and suavity. 
 
 " It's very true, that there was a time when 
 I was inclined to have changed my condition, 
 I'll ne'er deny't ; but no one could ever impute 
 to me a breach o' discretion We live, however, 
 in an ill-speaking warld, Miss Shoosie; and was- 
 na there a time, my dear, when folks werena 
 slack they ought to have been punished, Miss 
 Shoosie, for cooming your character in the way 
 they did. But ye had great credit for your 
 bravery. I didna think it was in the power o' 
 woman to have sae face't it out. I allow frankly 
 and freely, that it was a maist improbable thing, 
 that a young woman o' a genteel family should 
 hae foregathered in a glen by appointment wi' 
 a blackavised, pockyawr'd, knock-kneed, pota- 
 oe-bogle o' a dominie. Ithers had their cracks, 
 
170 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 as wha can stop the mouths o' a scandaleezing 
 warld ? but, for my part, I aye thocht and up- 
 held the meeting for an accidental ane, and so 
 I said at the time, to Mr Firlot, when he was 
 bent on sending the elder to test the fact, and 
 mak peremptory investigation. It's no to be 
 tell'd to what a bonny pass matters might have 
 been brought, for the Session were a' on the 
 scent, and the daughter o j an heritor was game 
 no every day to be hunted after. But, as I aye 
 observed, it wad be mair candid and christian- 
 like to let the thing drap ; for, in the first place, 
 it mightna be, and I houpit wasna true ; and in 
 the next place, coudna be proven, which was the 
 best thing that could happen for baith parties, 
 there being nae leeving witness, at least that 
 either the members or me ever heard tell o'." 
 
 Here a yell so alarmed me, that I could not 
 resist rushing into the room, where the amiable 
 disputants, in the warmth of argument, had start- 
 ed from their seats, and were standing in the 
 middle of the floor. 
 
 The aspect of Mrs Soorocks indicated the 
 most resolute calmness, and a sweet smile play- 
 ed round her lips, and no one could have traced 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 171 
 
 the storm of passion raging within, but hy the 
 lightning that flashed from her eyes. 
 
 Miss Shoosie, a tall, meagre, heron-necked 
 anatomy of womankind, was standing as stiff as 
 Dr Gaubins, of Glasgow, of whom Beeny Ha- 
 milton said, that he looked as if he had swallow- 
 ed a decoction of ramrods. Her hands were 
 fiercely clenched, her cheeks pale, and her lips 
 quivering, her teeth grinding, and her small 
 greenish grey eyes sparkling, as if they emitted 
 not constellations of fire only, but visible needles 
 and pins. 
 
 Miss Girzie had thrown herself between 
 them, and was pushing her sister back by the 
 shoulders, evidently to prevent her from fixing 
 her ten blood-thirsty talons in the imperturbable 
 tranquillity of her antagonist's countenance. 
 
 On my appearance the storm was instantly 
 hushed, the sisters hastily resumed their seats, 
 and Mrs Soorocks, with ineffable composure, ad- 
 dressed herself to me. 
 
 " How do you do, sir ? me and the leddies hae 
 been just diverting ourselves, talking o'er auld 
 stories, till we hae been a* like to dee of laughin. 
 Miss Shoosie there ye see hasna got the better o't 
 
172 THE LAST OF "HE LAIRDS. 
 
 yet O ! Miss Grizzy, but ye're gude at a guf- 
 faw ; as for your sister, I'll no forget the way she 
 would joke wi' me. I hope ye havena taen't ill, 
 Miss Shoosie ? I was just reminding her, sir, o' a 
 wee bit daffin in the days o' her youthfu' thocht- 
 lessness." 
 
 The insulted virgin could stand no more. 
 Bouncing 011 her feet, she gave a stamp that 
 shook the aged mansion from roof to founda- 
 tion, and raising her clenched hands aloft, she 
 screamed through the throttlings of rage, 
 
 " It's false it's false as false as hell !" 
 
 And so in verity it was, for the whole in- 
 sinuation, with all details and particulars, was 
 only an invention got up by the ingenious Mrs 
 Soorocks, on the spur o' the occasion, having no 
 other material wherewithal to parry the cutting 
 inuendoes of her acrimonious adversaries. The 
 widow, however, took no notice of the judge- 
 like energy of the denial, but said, 
 
 " Good day, my old friends, and tak an ad- 
 vice from me, put a bridle on the neck o' your 
 terrible tempers. Miss Girzie, I may say to 
 you, as Leddy Law said to ane like you, < may- 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 173 
 
 be if you would shave your beard, it would help 
 to cool your head.* " 
 
 With these words she swirled meteor-like out 
 of the room, with a magnificent undulation, or 
 curtseying motion, before Miss Girzie could dis- 
 charge the bomb of her retort. That it might 
 not, however, be lost, but strike, as the artil- 
 lerymen say, by recouchet, the infuriated virgin 
 turned sharply to me, and said, 
 
 " She's ane, indeed, to speak o* shaving faces 
 she ought to be taught to scrape her ain tongue. 
 But it's beneath me to discompose mysell for sik 
 a clash-decking clypen kennawhat. She's just 
 a midwife to ill-speaking." 
 
 Miss Shoosie, who had by this time in some 
 degree rallied, exclaimed, 
 
 " Sister I beg, sister, ye'll say no more about 
 her, for I'm determined to take the law;" and 
 with these words she burst into tears. 
 
THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WHEN, after some desultory conversation, 
 in which, with all my usual tact and suavity, 
 I had in a great measure succeeded in soothing 
 the irritated feelings of the ladies, Miss Girzie, 
 " on household cares intent," had left the room, 
 and finding myself on the sofa beside her sister, I 
 began to throw out my feelers, with a view to 
 ascertain in what manner the negotiation should 
 be opened. 
 
 " Miss Shoosie," said I, gravely, " it is the 
 misfortune of your sex to stand in need of a 
 protector. Without some one of ours being 
 interested in your happiness, the variety of in- 
 sults and vexations to which you are hourly 
 exposed to say nothing of the value of a male 
 friend in affairs of business renders it the duty 
 of every prudent woman, at some time of her 
 life, to clothe herself with a husband." 
 
 In saying this, I laid my hand upon hers, to 
 
CHAPTER XX. 175 
 
 give the greater emphasis to my persuasion, 
 but the look with which she considered the 
 movement, was to me truly alarming. 
 
 " 'Tis a very just observe, sir," replied she, 
 sighing, and endeavouring to look amiable. 
 Such particular manifestations brought me at 
 once to the point, and I resumed, 
 
 " You are sensible, Miss Shoosie, that no 
 man can take a deeper interest in the happi- 
 ness of his friends than I do ; and, as you are 
 a lady of sense and knowledge of the world, I 
 acknowledge to you, that my visit this day is for 
 a very special purpose." 
 
 Here, I felt her thumb, as it were, fondly dis- 
 posed to turn up and embrace mine ; and I was 
 therefore obliged to be quick with the declara- 
 tion, for I saw that we were running the risk 
 of coming into what the Laird would have call- 
 ed a comical situation ; so I added, 
 
 " I have been, this morning, with our friend 
 Auldbiggings, and have had a very earnest con- 
 versation with him on this very subject." 
 
 Miss Shoosie withdrew her hand, and taking 
 hold of her elbows, she erected her person and 
 said drily, 
 
176 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " Well." 
 
 " He spoke of you with great tenderness 
 lamenting that the circumstances of his first 
 marriage had prevented him, in the ardour of 
 youthful passion, from throwing himself at your 
 feet." 
 
 " Did he really say so ?" 
 
 " Nay, I assure you, that it would offend 
 your delicacy were I to repeat the half of what 
 he said ; but I can assure you, that his youth- 
 ful feelings towards you have undergone no 
 change." 
 
 " No possible !" said Miss Shoosie, relaxing 
 from her stiffness. 
 
 " It is, however, true, my dear madam ; and 
 surely it is much to be deplored, that two per- 
 sons so well calculated to endear themselves to 
 each other, should by the malice of Fortune 
 have been so long kept asunder. What is your 
 opinion, Miss Shoosie, of Mr Mailings ?" 
 
 But instead of answering the question, she 
 said, 
 
 " Do you know, sir, that Mrs Soorocks, when 
 ye came in, was talking in very high terms of 
 him ? And certainly I never heard that he was 
 
11AFTEK XX. 177 
 
 guilty o ? ony indiscrcctncss, sept in the mis- 
 fortune o' liis marriage ; but in sic tilings tlic 
 woman is aye mair to blame than the man, and 
 there have been folk that said Mr Firlot the 
 minister ought not on that occasion to have, in 
 a manner, as they said, forced the marriage ; but 
 ever since Mr Mailings has been a widower, he 
 has conducted himsell, I will allow, wi' the 
 height o' discretion." 
 
 " But how does it happen, Miss Shoosie, that 
 yon and him never meet ?" 
 
 " It's no my fau't," said she ; " for ye ken 
 that my sister and I are very retired ; it's no 
 our custom to wear other folk's snccks and hinges 
 like Mrs Soorocks ; nor wou'd it become wo- 
 men in our situation to be visiting a wanting 
 man." 
 
 " Upon my word, Miss Shoosie, I do riot M < 
 that there would be the least indecorum in your 
 asking Mr Mailings and myself, on a Sunday 
 afternoon, to a sober cup of tea." 
 
 " I wou'd have nae objection," was the an- 
 swer ; " but what way could it be brought about 
 wi' propriety ?" 
 
 " } Tis quite refreshing," replied I, " to con- 
 
 M 
 
178 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 verse with a sensible woman. Had you been 
 Mrs Soorocks, Miss Shoosie, the chance is, that 
 instead of the refinement and sensibility with 
 which you have accepted the offer of my worthy 
 friend the Laird's hand " 
 
 " Offer, sir, I never have had an offer." 
 
 " O Miss Shoosie ! what then is the purpose 
 of my being here but to make you an offer ?" 
 
 " You don't say so !" said she with a simper, 
 looking away from me, and turning down the 
 side of her head as if she was hiding blushes. 
 
 " I do, Miss Shoosie, and I think you most 
 singularly fortunate in receiving such an offer 
 from the man on whom your affections have 
 been so long placed." 
 
 " Are you really sincere, sir ? because if you 
 are, I'll ne'er deny that I have long thocht that 
 with proper management Mr Mailings might 
 make an excellent husband." 
 
 " Then, Miss Shoosie, why delay your felicity 
 and the felicity of the man of your choice ?" 
 
 " Oh, sir, you would never advise me to take 
 such a rash step as to change my condition with- 
 out consulting my friends. Our sister Lady 
 Chandos is at a distance " 
 
CHAPTER XX. 179 
 
 41 1 hope her ladyship is very well," said I, 
 imitating the humour of Mrs Soorocks " when 
 did you hear from her last ?" 
 
 " My sister was never gude at the writing." 
 
 " But her man of business, when he draws 
 on you for the rents, surely lets you know of 
 the welfare of her ladyship and the young heir- 
 ess, who, I understand, is about coming of age ? 
 It will be a most fortunate thing, Miss Shoosie, 
 both for you and Miss Grizzy, to have the assist- 
 ance of a husband like Mr Mailings, when you 
 come to settle accounts with the executors of 
 your brother-in-law." 
 
 " To be sure, there is no needcessity that I 
 should consult Lady Chandos, for when she was 
 married she never consulted me ; but I can give 
 no answer to the proposal till I have conferred 
 wi' Girzie." 
 
 " Then let us call her into the room, and set- 
 tle the business at once I shall return to Auld- 
 biggings wi' a light heart, conscious that I have 
 this day been instrumental in establishing the 
 happiness of two persons worthy of one ano- 
 ther." 
 
 " But, sir," replied Miss Shoosie with so- 
 
180 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 lemnity, " is there no glammoury in what you 
 hae been saying, for ye ken it would be thocht 
 a most extraordinar thing were I to confess a 
 preference for Mr Mailings, and nothing to come 
 o't?" 
 
 I assured her that I was fully accredited to 
 make the proposal, adding, 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Shoosie, you are highly ho- 
 noured, and your marriage cannot fail to be a 
 happy one, since, like a princess, you are court- 
 ed by proxy. Let us call in Miss Girzie, and as 
 the day is warm, and I am tired with my walk, 
 I hope on such a blythe occasion you will not 
 refuse me a glass of your delicious currant wine 
 and water." 
 
 " That you shall have, sir, without delay, 
 but you must leave me and my sister to confer 
 in private." 
 
 " Am I then to give my friend any hopes ?" 
 
 " I dare say you may say he needna despair." 
 
 " Miss Shoosie," I exclaimed, " you are a 
 
 pattern to your whole sex, and I cannot but envy 
 
 my friend that the disparity of our years, and 
 
 the fidelity of your affections to him, would, 
 
CHAPTER XX. 181 
 
 even if I were willing, allow me no hope of suc- 
 cess as his rival." 
 
 " O sir, O sir !" said she with a self-congra- 
 tulating titter, " ye gar me doot I wish ye may 
 hae a* this time been o* a true sincerity." 
 
 " Miss Shoosie, a marriage made up with- 
 out jocularity was never a happy one ; 6 a dull 
 bridal and a scrimp infore,' as the old proverb 
 says, * bodes quench'd love or toom pantries.' 
 Bring in the wine and let us drink May there 
 ne'er be waur amang us." 
 
182 THE LAST OF THE LAIKDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 WHEN I returned home in the evening, I sat 
 down to the full enjoyment of those agreeable 
 reflections which are sometimes all the reward 
 that kind-hearted people like me receive in this 
 world for the trouble of doing good and chari- 
 table actions. 
 
 The day, as I have already mentioned, had 
 been uncommonly warm, but the twilight was 
 cool, calm, and clear. The moon was just above 
 the horizon, and so directly behind the high 
 church and steeple of " the canny town," as 
 King James the Sixth used to call Paisley, that 
 they appeared like an apocalyptical vision dimly 
 on her disk. I heard the faint far-off sound of 
 the bell at intervals, now and then the bleat- 
 ing of the sheep on the whinny knowes, accom- 
 panied with the occasional bark of their guar- 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 183 
 
 dian colley while the sound of a flute from a 
 neighbouring grove, as Harvey says in his Me- 
 ditations, came upon the ear with " auricular fra- 
 grance," or as a lake poet describes the dashing 
 of oars during the night on the bosom of Win- 
 dermere, in his amiable poem of the Hoxter. 
 
 As I was sitting by the open window of my 
 study, tasting the freshness of the evening air, 
 and listening to the soothing harmony of those 
 mingled sounds, I observed the shadow of a 
 man on the moonlight wall of the garden, co- 
 ming by the footpath towards the house, and 
 presently Mr Tansy the schoolmaster emerged 
 upon the lawn from behind the shrubbery. I 
 immediately ordered candles, and by the time 
 they were lighted he was admitted. 
 
 " You have come in a happy moment," said 
 I to him : " I have been enjoying the delicious 
 tranquillity of this still and fragrant night. The 
 spirit of contentment is abroad, and there is a 
 pleasing augury of peace and repose in the as- 
 pect of universal nature." 
 
 I knew that these euphonious phrases, imita- 
 ted from the style of that mysterious little work, 
 " the Omen," in which the cabalistic sentimen- 
 
184 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 tality of our Northern neighbours has been so 
 prominently brought out, would act as ignited 
 touch-paper on the Dominie's inflammable en- 
 thusiasm, and so it happened. 
 
 " Call you it a happy time, when everything 
 indicates a crisis ? The sun hath for the season 
 reached the maturity of his power ; he sent forth 
 a heat which the memory of the oldest person 
 in the parish cannot parallel ; and from this day 
 his glory will begin to decline into the ineffec- 
 tual lustre, which illuminates but warms not the 
 dreariness of winter The moon is in this very 
 hour at the full, and already hath begun to 
 dwindle and to wane The grass hath been cut 
 down the sheep are shorn of their fleeces, the 
 sweet influences of the spring are over and gone, 
 and the Summer pauses in the weaving of her 
 garlands, as if she had twined enough for the 
 use of the year all gives the sign of mutation, 
 and the fortunes of men are in unison with the 
 condition of things. We shall hear rumours of 
 strange matters that will speedily ensue. The 
 green boughs of prosperity will soon be seen 
 with the sere and yellow leaf tidings of change 
 
CHAPTER XXI. IS") 
 
 and decay will come among us, and proud hearts 
 will be moved with disastrous fears." 
 
 This sort of almanack prognostication of the 
 good and simple man, derived an impressive 
 emphasis in its meaning from the events of the 
 day ; insomuch, that although I had set him off 
 in the mere playfulness of the moment, it had 
 yet considerable effect upon my feelings, and I 
 replied, 
 
 "There is something of a vague and hazy truth 
 in your observations ; but I have heard as yet 
 of no particular occurrence to convince me of 
 the existence of that astrological reciprocity 
 between the course of moral actions and celes- 
 tial signs, which you so often maintain. On 
 the contrary, I have this day myself sown the 
 seeds of an event which cannot fail to be of 
 prosperous issue." 
 
 The philosopher looked serious, and said, 
 
 " Modesty requires that you should add to 
 the bravery of such a boast, an c if likeas,' if 
 no unforeseen accident comes forth to blight it. 
 But whatever experience, sir, you think you 
 have had of a contrariety to my doctrines, I 
 myself have met with a wonderful instance 
 
186 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 of their truth. This very day, a man and a 
 child have come to Renfrew, and are abiding at 
 the public there. What I have heard of them, 
 and of the jeopardies they have come through, 
 convinces me that they are unconscious agents 
 to bring about some singular mutation that is 
 ordained to come to pass in this country side. 
 They have come here, as I am told, from a foreign 
 land, in quest of great wealth that appertains to 
 the child, whose parentage was burned at sea. 
 More I have not heard ; but hearing this much, 
 I could do no less than come to tell you ; for 
 knowing how well gifted you are wi' the facul- 
 ty o' curiosity, I am sure that you can lose no 
 time in going to Renfrew the morn's morning, 
 to satisfy yourself, by sifting all the particulars, 
 and doing your utmost to help the friendless in 
 this to them strange land." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr Tansy, I am not a 
 man of such curiosity as you seem to think, but 
 only actuated by a liberal spirit of inquiry, the 
 love of truth, and a constitutional penchant for 
 facts." 
 
 I was indeed not quite pleased to hear myself 
 so considered, notwithstanding the compensa- 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 187 
 
 lion in the just acknowledgment of my bene- 
 volence. 
 
 Our conversation was here interrupted by 
 the arrival of a messenger from Mrs Soorocks, 
 in " the form and pressure" of one of her ser- 
 vant lasses. That lady was always particular 
 in the choice of her handmaids, both as to cha- 
 racter and personal appearance, and therefore 
 I desired Leezy, as the girl was called, to be 
 sent into the room, that I might hear the mes- 
 sage from her own lips ; at the same time, I re- 
 quested the Dominie to sup with me, begging 
 him to have the goodness, for a minute, to take 
 one of-the lights and go into the dining-room, 
 giving, as my reason, that I knew the business, 
 to which Mrs Soorocks was desirous I should 
 attend, was private and confidential. 
 
 The Dominie accordingly left the room, and 
 Leezy came forward. 
 
 She was of the better order of Scottish house- 
 maids a ruddy lively girl of twenty, and habited 
 as befitted her condition. Her ancles, which is 
 the next thing one is apt to look to in a wo- 
 man after her face, were well turned, stocking- 
 less, it is true, but, even by candle-light, of a 
 
188 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 fresh pink colour, which finely contrasted with 
 her neat black shoes ; her petticoat was of cho- 
 colate-coloured calimanco, and of an engaging 
 brevity, and she wore a white dimity jupe, 
 with a many-coloured silk handkerchief over 
 her full bosom ; her hair, saving the front locks 
 in ringlets, was closely smoothed back, and ga- 
 thered within a kipplin comb. 
 
 " Weel, Leezy," said I, " which o' your 
 sweethearts has led ye sae far a-field to-night ?" 
 
 " Sweethearts ! the last sweetheart I had 
 was a gingebread faring, and I eat it." 
 
 " O had I been made o' gingerbread, and in 
 such lips !" replied I, in the tone of Romeo 
 wishing himself a glove. 
 
 " Ye would hae been o' some use," retorted 
 Leezy; " but I have nae time the night to 
 hsever wi' you, for my mistress telPd me to 
 come straight back, and she aye threeps that 
 I lose her time when I forgather wi' you, 
 she's just been wud wi' a passion o' haste the 
 night." 
 
 The spirit of inquiry was roused within me 
 by this remark, and I exclaimed 
 
 " What has happened ?" 
 
CHAPTER XXI. I Si) 
 
 " How can I tell ? Ye ken best what trafec- 
 kin has been between you and her; but she 
 bade me gi' you her compliments, and to say, 
 that she wished ye would come the morn, after 
 breakfast, and convoy her to Mr Roopy's, on 
 the business that ye ken o'." 
 
 At that moment, Mr Tansy, with the candle 
 in his hand, looked in at the door, and said, 
 
 " I thought she was away." 
 
 " Ah, Mr Tansy," cried I, " just busy your- 
 self for half-a-minute more in thoughts of ad- 
 verbs, prepositions, and conjunctions, and I'll 
 be with you immediately." 
 
 Then turning to Leezy, I added, 
 
 " Give my compliments to your mistress, 
 and say I'll wait upon her; but take care of 
 yourself with the young lad that's waiting at 
 the gate." 
 
 " He'll wait lang that I care for," replied 
 Leezy, slily adding, as she passed the Dominie, 
 in quitting the room, " Whan, Mr Tansy, are 
 ye to make anither clipse o' the moon ?" 
 
190 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS, 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ACCORDING to appointment, I went over im- 
 mediately after breakfast to Keckleton, the resi- 
 dence of Mrs Soorocks, whom I found sitting 
 with her pelisse and bonnet on, waiting for my 
 coming. The instant I entered her neat well- 
 ordered parlour, she, snatching her gloves and 
 parasol from one of the shining mahogany tables, 
 said, " I'm ready, and hae been expecting you, 
 for I fear, if we dinna mak haste, that the ill 
 you and Dr Lounlans hae done will be past re- 
 paration. Bonny ambassadors ye hae shown 
 yourselves ! But come awa." 
 
 With that she took my arm and hurried me 
 out of the house. 
 
 " My dear ma'am," cried I, " but tell me 
 first how you intend to proceed ?" 
 
 " Dinna ye fash your thumb about that j ye'll 
 
CHAPTER XXI f. 191 
 
 see that I'll no let a wark o' needcessity slip 
 through my fingers like a knotless thread." 
 
 The rest of our conversation till we reached 
 the verandah of Nawaubpore was not worthy 
 of particular preservation, although pertinent 
 enough to the matter in hand, namely, the con- 
 cerns and character of our neighbours. 
 
 Our reception by the Nabob was particularly 
 courteous ; to the lady he was indeed all smiles 
 and gallantry. 
 
 After we had been seated a few minutes, he 
 shouted with a voice that made us both start, 
 " Q'hy," which brought into the room one of 
 his Indian servants, to whom he said something 
 in his own language touching tiffin. 
 
 " What an elegant creature that is !" said my 
 companion, " for though his face is the colour 
 o' a brass jeely-pan, and his dress like a man's 
 on a tea cup, hasna he a genteel manner about 
 him ?" 
 
 By this I discovered to what key she had 
 modulated her meditated performance. 
 
 " Your remark is perfectly just, madam," 
 said the Nabob ; " there is a natural grace even 
 amongst the lowest of the Asiatics, which no 
 
192 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 European, unless he has been very long in the 
 country, can acquire. I have seen a Metraiiie 
 throw on her capra in a style that an English 
 princess, whom you would call here the orna- 
 ment of society, would have given half her dig- 
 nity to be able to imitate." 
 
 " O Mr Roopy Nawaubpore, as I should ra- 
 ther ca* you I always heard that ye gaed very 
 young to Indy." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, I certainly did, but besides 
 that, I had the good fortune to be early attach- 
 ed to our residency at the court of Delhi, where 
 I had an opportunity of frequently associating 
 not only with the first native society in India, 
 but with the princes of the blood of Timour." 
 
 " Nae wonder, that wi' such advantages of 
 education, you hae the fine taste that every- 
 body's speakin about. O but that's a lovely 
 picture ! and what a handsome young gentle- 
 man that is there, on the back o' that elephant. 
 Weel, I never thocht that an elephant was just 
 a pig grown out o' the bounds o' moderation 
 but, dear me, Mr Roopy Nawaubpore, I 
 should say I think that bonny lad on the 
 
 beast's back must hae been a relation o' yours, 
 1 
 
rilAPTEK XXII. 193 
 
 for lie's really very like you it's weel seen that, 
 he has been amang superior folk nane o' our 
 hamewart gentry cou'd sit wi' sic an air o' com- 
 posity in the middle <>' a stramash like that. 
 Did the teegur there, really rin awa wi' the 
 blackamoor ?" 
 
 " He would have done so," replied the Na- 
 bob, " had it not been for the trueness of my 
 aim, for I'm the young man in the houdah that 
 you have pleased to compliment; and it was 
 considered in those days a very good likeness." 
 
 " In those days, Nawaubpore ? That canna 
 hae been vera lang ago. But I have heard that 
 you have a wonder fu' fine collection o' pictures. 
 I hae a great inclination that way, ever since I 
 saw Daniel in the Lion's Den, in Hamilton Pa- 
 lace, and that was on my marriage jaunt to the 
 Falls o' Clyde. It's an auld story, Nawaub- 
 pore. Ye were then a young man, making con- 
 quests o' the yellow ladies, I doot na, in that 
 great Mogul toon, where ye learnt manners." 
 
 I had begun at this to be afraid that the 
 lady's curry would prove too rich even for the 
 Oriental palate of the Nabob. But the compla- 
 cent smile which played over his turmeric-co- 
 
194 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS, 
 
 loured countenance, soon convinced me of the 
 capacity of the Indian temperament for adula- 
 tion. But it would seem that there is some- 
 thing in the influences of the sacred Ganges, 
 that generates an inordinate craving for flattery, 
 as well as the hepatic maladies there have been 
 cases of this disease even late in life, a noble 
 instance of it very recently, where the symptoms 
 so insatiable in India, are said scarcely to have 
 been mitigated by empirical dozes of the Lead- 
 enhall faculty. 
 
 " My pictures," said the Nabob, " are not 
 very remarkable some people, however, have 
 tho't well of them but ma'am, allow me the 
 gratification to show them to you, such as they 
 are." 
 
 " Na !" said Mrs Soorocks, taking his offered 
 arm, " this is politeness ;" and as they walked 
 out of the room I followed them. 
 
 All she beheld filled her apparently with the 
 most extraordinary delight. On entering the 
 principal drawing-room, she exclaimed 
 
 "OMr Roopy Nawaubpore, as I should weel 
 ca j ye you and me are just like King Solomon 
 and the Queen of Sheba, when he was showing 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 195 
 
 her all his wisdom, and the house that he had 
 built, and the meat of his table." 
 
 " That you shall see presently," said the Na- 
 bob, laughing, " for I have ordered tiffin in the 
 dining-room." 
 
 " And I see, like him, ye hae sitting servants 
 too !" rejoined the lady ; " all this must hae 
 cost a power o' money, Nawaubpore ?" 
 
 " It did cost a few lacs, and a great deal more 
 than I could well afford." 
 
 " Weel, I'm vera sorry indeed to hear that 
 it accounts for what I have heard : for sure am 
 I* a gentleman o' your extraordinar liberality, 
 had ye no straitened yoursell wi' this grandeur, 
 would never hae thocht of molesting that poor 
 silly doited do-naething Auldbiggings about his 
 wadset." 
 
 " O, not quite so bad as that neither, ma'am, 
 for all his debt would be but a drop in the buc- 
 ket in my affairs," said the Nabob. 
 
 " Weel, I was sure o' that, and I so said to 
 them that told me; and I said likewise, that 
 you had been very ill used, for if Auldbiggings 
 didna insult you himsell, he egget on the mis- 
 leart creature his servant-man to break your 
 
196 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 land-surveyor's implement; and that it wasna 
 the worth o' the money that gar't you persecute 
 him, if it were sac, for that ye were a man far 
 ahoon heedin' whether ye were pay'd at this 
 time or seven years hence, especially as you 
 could not but know that the property would 
 come vera soon to you in a natural way the 
 feckless body being in a deep decline, wi' a great 
 hoast, and a sore defluction o' the chest." 
 
 " I have long known," said the Nabob, laugh- 
 ing, " that his chest was out of order." 
 
 Here the lady burst into a most immoderate 
 guffaw, in which the Nabob heartily joined. At 
 the conclusion she exclaimed, 
 
 " Really, Nawaubpore, ye're as funny as ye're 
 wfse ; but it's no Christian-like for you and me 
 to be gambollan o'er the weak man's infirmi- 
 ties couldna ye just let him be ? I'm sure, if 
 I had but the tenth part o' your forton, and no 
 the half o' your generosity, rather than hear 
 the clash that's bizzin"* about a' the kintra-side 
 concerning you and Auldbiggings, I would put 
 his heritable bond in a blank cover I wouldna 
 demean myself to write the body, and send it 
 to him wi' my contempts." 
 
CHAPTER XXI 1. 197 
 
 I thought Mrs Soorocks truly like the Queen 
 of Sheba for her management in this instance, 
 especially when the Nahob, with a slight shade 
 of thought ful ness, replied, he was sorry to hear 
 that there was so bad an account of himself in 
 the country. 
 
 " But," replied she, " I never believed it ; 
 and ye needna fash yoursell, as ye ken it's no 
 true it's a soogh that'll soon be ower." 
 
 " Everything, my dear madam," said the Na- 
 bob, " is in this world misrepresented and much 
 exaggerated that hectoring, lecturing prig of 
 a fellow, Padre Lounlans, came here dictating 
 to me what I should do." 
 
 " He's a self-conceited man, Dr Lounlans," 
 interrupted the lady, " he would rule the wisest 
 in the parish if he could, and for your own dig- 
 nity, Nawaubpore, you who have seen so much 
 o' the great world, couldna suffer yoursell to be 
 governed by the likes o' him. It will, however, 
 be a pity if you let your scorn o' a meddlin mi- 
 nister hurt your ain character. If I was in your 
 place, noo that the Doctor's awa to be married, 
 I would show the world that I would do muckle 
 
 8 
 
198 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 mair o' my am free will than I wad do either for 
 fleechin or preachin." 
 
 The Nabob was now evidently thaw'd, and 
 said, 
 
 " You think my own tho'ts, ma'am I have 
 been for some time intending to stop the pro- 
 ceedings which my man of business had advised 
 me to institute." 
 
 " But," said Mrs Soorocks, " if ye stop the 
 proceedings, which is as much as can be expect- 
 ed of you, I wouldna advise ye to gie up your 
 heritable bond ; for if ye dinna get the proper- 
 ty at his death, somebody less deserving will." 
 
 " I'm sure, Mrs Soorocks," said the Nabob, 
 " I shall do anything you like in the matter ; I 
 am too happy in having made the acquaintance 
 of a lady so judicious, to refuse her any wish in 
 so trifling a matter allow me the honour to 
 show you the way to the dining-room." 
 
[ 199 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HAVING bid adieu to the Nabob at the Fa- 
 keir gate, or, as Mrs Soorocks called it, " the 
 Beautiful Gate," to which he had accompanied 
 us, we walked on together, congratulating each 
 other on the success of our undertaking. 
 
 " Weel," said the lady, " ye see how a thing 
 may be done, if folk kent how to set rightly 
 about it. To be sure, considering that Dr Loun- 
 lans is a young man no experienced in the ways 
 o' the world, and that ye'rc but an authour, 
 which, in a certain sense, is only a something 
 between a dominie and a bookseller, and that 
 Nawaubpore is a man o' abilities (though a thocht 
 vain o' them, that maun be allow' t) it was none 
 surprising that ye baith cam sae little speed. 
 Folks say that the Nabob's proud, but, for my 
 part, I think he's a man o' condescension ; and 
 
200 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 hasna he a fine style o' manners ? It will be 
 lang in the day or ye'll see ane o' our stirks o' 
 country gentlemen linking a leddy about his 
 house, and showing her his plenishing and other 
 curiosities. Poor bodies ! they ne'er hae a greater 
 curiosity than themselves he maun indeed be 
 a rich man yon I said he was like King Solo- 
 mon in all his glory, and, like Solomon, he has 
 his weak side too ; but I couldna help thinking, 
 as he showed me his gold and his silver, and his 
 precious stones didna ye think the big chiny 
 jars maist handsome? that he was mair like 
 Hezekiah snowing the men that brought him the 
 present, after he was no weel, from Berodoch- 
 Beladin, the son of Beladin King of Babylon 
 It's surely a neglect in the Scriptures no to tell 
 us what the present was, for no doot it was 
 some very fine thing. I hope, however, that 
 what Nawaubpore has shown to us this day of his 
 precious things, his spices and his ointments 
 there was rather an overly ostentation of spice 
 in yon mugglecatauny soup but we shouldna 
 look a gien horse in the mouth, so I hope that 
 the pride of the Nabob's heart is no to be dis- 
 mayed wi' the sight o' his veshels o' gold, and 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 201 
 
 his vcslicls o* silver, carried away captive, as it 
 were, to the Babylon o' Glasgow, to be put in 
 the fiery furnace o' William Gray's melting- 
 pot." 
 
 This speech, dishevelled and ravelled as it 
 was, reminded me of the schoolmaster's predic- 
 tion, and I told Mrs Soorocks of the strangers 
 who had come to Renfrew, and of my intention 
 of then going there to see them, advising her, 
 at the same time, to proceed to Auldbiggings 
 to comfort the Laird with the tidings of our 
 achievements. 
 
 She was greatly struck with the coincidence 
 of the stranger's arrival at the time of what she 
 called the Nebuchadnezzar vanity of the Nabob, 
 about the great Babylon he had built, and she 
 would willingly have accompanied me to see the 
 bottom of such " a judgment-timed event," 
 using many ejaculatory terms concerning what 
 might come to pass. I had, however, enjoyed 
 enough of her company for one morning, and 
 shook her off with as much civility as possible, 
 promising to call on her as I returned home, to 
 tell her all the particulars. We accordingly se- 
 
202 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 parated where the roads diverged I for the 
 royal borough, and she for the Laird. 
 
 I had not parted from her more than two 
 or three hundred yards, when I met Jock the 
 Laird's man coming leisurely from the town. 
 
 " Where have you been this morning, John ?" 
 said I, " and how is your master ?" 
 
 " He's like a lying-in wife," replied Jock, 
 " as weel as can be expecket, and I hae been 
 getting for him a cordial o' mair efficacy for his 
 state, than a* the drogues o' a doctor's bottle." 
 
 " Indeed ! and what may that be ?" 
 
 " What may that be ? I'm sure ye ken that 
 the malady wherewi' he's afflicted, is a sair dis- 
 ease." 
 
 " The want of money, do you mean ? What's 
 your remedy, John ?" 
 
 " I had hain'd three and twenty shillings and 
 fivepence hapeny out o' the wage that was pay'd 
 me twa year bygane, and I barrow'd four shil- 
 lings and sixpence from Jenny Clatterpans 
 ye'll ken her, she's ane o' our lasses. Wi' that, 
 and a bawbee that I saved out o' twopence that 
 the Laird sent me to waster on snuff for him 
 isn't a daft-like thing for a man to create 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 203 
 
 an appetite in his nose, when he's sae fash'd to 
 get the wherewithal to satisfy his mouth ? wi' 
 the aught-and-tvventy-shillings I hae bought a 
 sixteenth, and when it comes up a prize o' therty 
 thousan pounds, me and the Laird intend to go 
 o'er the knowes to the Great Mogul, and pay 
 him his wadset, plack and bawbee, sine snap 
 our fingers in his face. But oh, sir, sic a stra- 
 mash is in the toun o' Arenthrou ! The bailies 
 are rinning about hither and thither like dogs 
 wi' pans tied to their tails ; for some Paisley 
 hempies that cam doun to the fishing, it being 
 their fast-day, have gotten themselves fou, and 
 mortally affronted the toun by miscaaing the 
 gude steeple. The folk wadna thol't, and coudna 
 stand it; so, weel-a-wat, they hae gotten sic 
 quarters in the stane chaummer as they richly 
 deserve. If ye want to see the tail o' the busi- 
 ness, I wad advise ye to muve on a thocht brisk- 
 er, so I wish ye a very guid morning." 
 
 With this scrap of provincial intelligence, as 
 big with importance to Jock as the mutiny at 
 the Nore was to the British government, the 
 Laird's man sauntered home to Auldbiggiu^s, 
 and I onwards to Renfrew, 
 
204 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 I FOUND the stranger with his young ward in 
 " the inn," and, upon requesting to see them, 
 was shown into " the best room up the stair," 
 where they were then sitting. 
 
 Mr Cohall, for so the stranger was called, was 
 a plain hut respectable elderly person, of a tro- 
 pical appearance ; the little boy wore also the 
 impress of the Indian clime, for though in vora- 
 cious health, his face was colourless, and though 
 his eyes sparkled with the morning light of life, 
 his cheeks were untinged with any of its vernal 
 bloom. 
 
 It was not easy to explain the motives of my 
 intrusion, but I got through the ceremony of 
 self-introduction tolerably well, and without 
 much embarrassment ; for instead of affecting to 
 offer any apology, I professed to offer my ser- 
 
( HAPTER XXIV. 205 
 
 vices, at the same time assuring Mr Coball, that 
 although I should have much pleasure in show- 
 ing him everything interesting in the town, there 
 was in fact nothing worthy of a traveller's notice 
 in it. 
 
 " Fm not here," he replied, " in quest of those 
 things which attract travellers but, as it were, 
 by accident ; yesterday I was landed at Green- 
 ock from America, and was on my way to Edin- 
 burgh, for the purpose of instituting some in- 
 quiry to discover the relations of that poor child, 
 when I happened to hear the name of a gentle- 
 man mentioned, who is probably the chief per- 
 son I am so anxious to find. He left India two 
 ot three years ago, that is, if the same whom I 
 believe he is, and I have halted here to call on 
 him, which I propose to do in the course of the 
 day." 
 
 But not to dwell on uninteresting particulars, 
 it proved that the gentleman in question was the 
 Nabob, and that he was supposed to be either 
 nearly related to the boy, or acquainted with his 
 friends ; if he had not been executor to his fa- 
 ther, who died about five years before, leaving 
 a wife and three children. 
 
206 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " They were coming home," said Mr Coball, 
 " in the same ship with me, but by the terrific 
 calamity that befell us, and our subsequent dis- 
 asters, all the evidences (with the exception of 
 a few seemingly unimportant letters) have been 
 lost, by which the unfortunate child may be 
 identified to his relations." 
 
 He was too much moved by the recollection 
 which this incidental allusion to his misfortunes 
 recalled, for me to interpose any question ; but 
 as his emotion subsided, he began to describe 
 his sufferings, till he insensibly came to talk of 
 the catastrophe of the ship." 
 
 " It happened," said he, " in a Saturday 
 night we had been all merry, according to the 
 custom at sea, and had retired to our respective 
 cabins and births, in the hope of making the 
 Cape in the course of a day or two. I had just 
 fallen asleep, when a sudden and strange noise 
 roused me from my pillow I listened, and a 
 wild cry of fire was instantly echoed by many 
 voices. I started up, and ran on deck I could 
 see nothing, but only a steamy white smoke 
 issuing from the fore-hatchway In a moment 
 every soul on board was around me. 
 
i IIAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " The captain with undismayed coolness or- 
 dered all to prepare for the worst, and the other 
 officers with their trumpets were immediately at 
 their posts, directing the crew in the attempt to 
 extinguish the flames. The night was calm the 
 heavens above were all serene, and the sea lay 
 so still around, that the ship appeared to 4iang 
 in the centre of a vast starry sphere, so beauti- 
 ful and bright was the reflection of the skies in 
 the unbounded ocean. 
 
 " I may not describe the dreadful contrast 
 which the scene on board presented to that 
 holy tranquillity. There were distraction, and 
 horror, and wild cries, and fearful screams, and 
 hideous bursts of delirious laughter. Then there 
 was a crash below, and silence for a moment 
 and then the busy troubled sound of the consu- 
 ming destruction, felt as well as heard, gnawing 
 and devouring the inward frame and beams of 
 the ship, still growing louder and fiercer. 
 
 " In the meantime the boats were lowering 
 the first that floated was instantly overload- 
 ed, and sank with a horrible startling cry every 
 soul who had so wildly leapt on board perished. 
 
 " The rage of the burning still increased it 
 
208 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 was no longer possible to go below, withoui4i*e 
 risk of suffocation. 
 
 " Another boat was launched one of the 
 officers leaped on board, and, sword in hand, 
 shoving her from the ship's side, suffered none 
 to follow until water and provisions were hand- 
 ed in but notwithstanding his prudent endea- 
 vours she was soon filled both with the sailors 
 and the passengers. The mother of this orphan 
 was standing on the gangway with her three chil- 
 dren, she looked as if she too would have leapt 
 into the boat, but the babies clung to her, and 
 so hung upon her arms, that she could not dis- 
 entangle herself from their fond and frantic em- 
 braces. 
 
 " I tore this poor boy from ojf her she cried, 
 6 O save him if you can !' the third boat was 
 by this time in the water I flung him to a 
 sailor on board ; she snatched up the other two 
 beneath her arms, and with a shrill dismal shud- 
 dering shriek, which made every one that hung 
 clustering about the shrouds and gangway look 
 round, she rushed into the smouldering cabin 
 and shut the door. 
 
 " Her madness infected all who witnessed it 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 209 
 
 the boat was pushing off there was no other 
 chance for me I leapt into the water and was 
 taken on board many followed me, but the offi- 
 cer, with a terrible compassion for those who 
 might be saved, hewed off their hands with his 
 cutlass as they laid hold of the gunwale ' Row,' 
 he cried to the sailors who had seized the oars, 
 ' the fire is making towards the magazine Row, 
 off, or we shall be blown to pieces.' 
 
 " The sailors rowed with their utmost vigour 
 As we left the ship a cry arose from all the 
 unfortunate wretches who were abandoned to 
 their doom so frantic, so full of woe and des- 
 pair, that it made even the firm-minded officer 
 exclaim, ' Good God, what is that !' 
 
 " I covered my ears with my hands, and bent 
 my forehead to my knees, that I might neither 
 hear nor see. 
 
 " When we had rowed to some distance, the 
 men at the oars paused I uncovered my ears 
 and looked up a deep, low, hoarse, murmuring 
 and crackling noise, came from the ship, and 
 now and then a human cry. As yet the flames 
 had not appeared but all around us, save where 
 those dread and dismal sounds arose, was still- 
 o 
 
810 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 ness and solemnity and the smoke from the 
 devoted vessel appeared like the shrouded form 
 of some incomprehensible and tremendous phan- 
 tasma, ascending from the sepulchres of the 
 ocean to the dominions of omens and powers. 
 
 " We looked at the spectral sight with terror 
 and in silence The orphan was clinging to my 
 knees at last the fire began to break out. The 
 flames first showed themselves at the cabin win- 
 dows in a moment they whirled up the rigging 
 the sails blazed, and the ship was for the 
 space of a minute like some unblest apparition- 
 al creation of sorcery. 
 
 " * It is all over,' said the officer, and his 
 voice sounded hollowly over the mute and echo- 
 less ocean. * The fire is in the gun-room ! Ha !' 
 
 " At that instant a vast sheet of flame filled 
 the whole air, and like an angry demon unfurl- 
 ing his wings, scattered meteors and malignant 
 fires against the stars. The black forms of many 
 things hovered like motes in the sunbeam for 
 a moment in the blaze. I distinctly saw an 
 anchor, and many like men with outspread 
 arms. 
 
 ' That momentary and indescribable vision 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 211 
 
 of fires and fragments, was succeeded by a 
 booming roar, as if an earthquake had raised 
 his voice from the abysses of the silent waters, 
 and then there was a numerous plashing noise 
 of many things falling around us into the sea, 
 but that too soon passed, and then there was 
 darkness and silence. 
 
 " At that moment a cold wet hand caught 
 hold of mine, which was hanging over the boat's 
 side and a man from the sea cried in a homely 
 Aberdonian voice, ' For Christianity, will ye no 
 tak me up?' The officer heard him, and re- 
 lenting from his firm and merciful purpose, 
 ordered him to be taken on board ' Na, na, J 
 cried the Scotchman, * tak my bag first,' and 
 he held up to me a small haversack which I 
 grasped and lifted in ; but in the same instant, 
 an undulation of the sea came rolling from the 
 whirlpool where the ship had sunk the boat 
 rose on the swell, the fated wretch lost his hold, 
 and sank beneath her for ever !" 
 
 After a short pause Mr Coball added, " It 
 pleased Providence to rescue us next morning 
 from our perilous situation a ship bound for 
 the Isle of France had seen the glare of the 
 
212 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 burning during the night, and steering towards 
 it when the wind freshened, came up to us by 
 daybreak, and took us all on board. As the 
 orphan (whose name is Charles Bayfield) still 
 hung about me, I undertook, if possible, to re- 
 turn him to his friends. He is a singularly 
 sharp boy for his years, and in the Aberdonian 
 who had so strangely preferred a bag to his life, 
 he had recognized one of his mother's servants 
 the contents of the bag were in consequence 
 adjudged to belong to him, and assigned to my 
 custody. They consisted of the letters I have 
 mentioned besides several packets of valuable 
 pearls and other costly trinkets, which may help 
 me to discover his friends. But I hope the Mr 
 Rupees of this neighbourhood is the same gentle- 
 man of that name, who by the letters appears to 
 have been the executor of the deceased Colonel 
 Bayfield, the child's father." 
 
 Our conversation after this became general. 
 Mr Coball mentioned several things, the know- 
 ledge of which he had acquired from the letters 
 in the bag, and which convinced me that the 
 Mr Rupees he was in search of could be no 
 other than our Nabob. But I became uneasy 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 213 
 
 when he stated that by some of the letters it ap- 
 peared Colonel Bayfield had died very rich, and 
 that the bulk of his fortune was in the hands of 
 his executor, from whom his widow had not 
 been able to obtain any satisfactory informa- 
 tion concerning it. I did not, however, divulge 
 what I feared, but only advised Mr Coball to 
 see the Nabob as soon as possible, adding, " If 
 you find the assistance of any friend necessary, 
 make no scruple of calling on me, for you have 
 both interested my feelings and awakened my 
 curiosity." I then took my leave. 
 
 Thus it came to pass, that what with the 
 Laird's affairs, and this new adventure, I, good 
 easy man, who never meddled with any other 
 body's business for my innocent curiosity can 
 never be called meddling had as much toil for 
 my feet, work for my hands, and talk for my 
 tongue, as Mrs Soorocks herself mine, however, 
 was owing to the purest and most disinterested 
 motives, while her visitations sprung from a 
 prying disposition and an unaccountable desire 
 to have a finger in every pie baked in the 
 neighbourhood the neighbourhood did I say ! 
 I might well say the country I have indeed 
 
214 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 often wondered that she did not remove herself 
 to the multifarious field of Glasgow, but her 
 reason was excellent, " Because," said she, 
 " nobody in a populous town cares for one an- 
 other, and I would die if I did not ken some- 
 thing about my neighbours It's no a field for 
 dispensing the workings of grace, or the exer- 
 cise of a mind void of offence, for I love to do 
 good, especially to my friends in affliction." 
 How blind some people are to their most obvi- 
 ous defects ! 
 
r. 215 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 FATIGUED with my long walk, the heat of 
 the day, and the influence of my dinner, I had 
 thrown myself on the sofa to indulge in a short 
 siesta, before going, as I had promised, to tell Mrs 
 Soorocks the result of my journey to Renfrew. 
 I had not, however, stretched out my limbs 
 many minutes when that indefatigable person- 
 age herself was announced. 
 
 " I thought," said she, as soon as she had 
 entered the room, " I would spare you the 
 trouble of coming to me, for although I was 
 just curious to hear the discoveries that ye hae 
 made, I could better spare hearin o' them, than 
 refrain frae telling you o' the tribulation we are 
 baith likely to be put in for the pains we hae 
 taken, out o' a sense o' religion, to help the 
 Laird in his jepordies." 
 
216 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 What tribulation ? What has happened ?" 
 
 " O, the swine's run thro't !" exclaimed she ; 
 " no sooner had I told the auld gaumeril that 
 Nawaubpore was a perfec gentleman, and was 
 disposed not only to treat him with mitigation, 
 but to allow him to live on the estate upon easy 
 terms for the remainder of his life, than he be- 
 gan to hum and haw, and to wish that he hadna 
 geen authority to you to bespeak ane o' the Miss 
 Minnigaffs to marry him Did ye ever experi- 
 ence such black ingratitude ?" 
 
 " You do not say so, my dear madam if he 
 draws back, what shall I do ? I have pledged 
 my honour for him to Miss Shoosie." 
 
 " I see nothing for it but to tak her yoursell," 
 said Mrs Soorocks laughing. 
 
 " It is no laughing matter to me, Mrs Soor- 
 ocks, after the praises I have bestowed on Miss 
 Shoosie, which, though they carried no offer, 
 might yet perhaps, by the help of Edinburgh ad- 
 vocacy, be screwed into as much as, if it did not 
 draw damages, would draw from my pockets the 
 fees both of advocate and writer, and worse than 
 all, make me be talked of as a perjured wretch in 
 all the boarding-schools of Athens ; even though 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 217 
 
 the case should happen to be accurately report- 
 ed in that amusing periodical, Shaw and Dun- 
 lop's Decisions of the Court of Session." 
 
 We were here interrupted by my servant 
 coming into the room, saying that the ladies of 
 Barenbraes wanted to speak a word wi' myself 
 in private. 
 
 " They'll be comin to consult you anent takin 
 the law o' me," said my visitor, endeavouring to 
 smile; and she added, " Oh but this is a treacher- 
 ous warld ! Howsoever, ye can go, sir, and see 
 what they daur to say, and I'll bide till ye'rc 
 done wi' them. I redd ye, sir, tak tent that ye 
 say naething to put up their birses, for when 
 angered they are perfect wild-cats." 
 
 I accordingly left her and went to the ladies, 
 who had been shown into the drawing-room, 
 and were sitting on the sofa, with pink silk 
 scarfs, like twin cherries on one stalk. Miss 
 Shoosie was doing amiable with bridelike bash- 
 fulness, her eyes perusing the carpet, while she 
 played with her shoe toe with the point of her 
 parasol. Miss Girzie had less of downcast mo- 
 desty in her appearance. Her parasol lay across 
 her knees, and was resolvedly grasped at the ex- 
 
218 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 tremities, while her countenance indicated both 
 fortitude and intrepidity. 
 
 " We have come, sir," said she, " having con- 
 sidered the proposal ye made to my sister yes- 
 terday " 
 
 The "ye maun tak her yoursell," of Mrs Soor- 
 ocks still ringing in my ears, I exclaimed, " Pro- 
 posal, ma'am ! I made no proposal !" 
 
 " Sister !" cried Miss Girzie, " sister, is it 
 possible that you could he mistaen ? but I told 
 you that it was ower gude a godsend to come to 
 our door, especially as Auldbiggings has done 
 sae lang without a wife." 
 
 This speech relieved me in one respect, that 
 is, in as far as I thought myself implicated ; but, 
 considering what Mrs Soorocks had told me of 
 the alteration in the Laird's views, I began to 
 feel as if I had only got out of the frying-pan 
 into the fire ; nevertheless, I mustered self-pos- 
 session enough to say with some show of gaiety, 
 
 " Well, ladies, and what is the result of your 
 deliberation ?" 
 
 " I told my sister," resumed Miss Girzie, 
 " that there could be no objection to Mr Mai- 
 lings as a man, which was quite her opinion ; but 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 219 
 
 I thocht it wouldna be prudent of her to give 
 her consent to an acceptance of his hand, until 
 we both knew what sort o* settlement he was 
 disposed to make upon her." 
 
 " Settlement ! Miss Girzie," cried I, glad to 
 find any loophole " Settlement surely, ladies, 
 you must have long known the embarrassed 
 state of Mr Mailings' s affairs Were times to 
 mend, as we hope they will do, doubtless he 
 may have it in his power to make a settlement ; 
 but really, under existing circumstances, any- 
 thing like a regular settlement ought not to be 
 expected." 
 
 " Is't possible," replied Miss Girzie, " that 
 you cou'd suppose my sister wou'd marry ony 
 man without a provision for a family ? I'm 
 sure she shou'd ne'er hae my consent to such 
 in discreetness." 
 
 Glad to find the venerable spinster in so 
 sturdy a humour, I grew a little bolder, and 
 said, 
 
 " Whatever your sentiments, Miss Girzie, 
 may be, I have always had a very high opinion 
 of the disinterestedness of your sister, and will 
 say so before herself, there where she sits ; but 
 
220 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 if I thought that in an affair of the heart, after 
 the great tenderness and affection shown by my 
 friend Mr Mailings, she could he so mercenary 
 as to make any such sordid stipulation, I would 
 advise him to have nothing further to say to 
 her." 
 
 Here Miss Shoosie said, with a plaintive ac- 
 cent, " I'm no o' a mercenary disposition, and 
 so I told my sister when she first spoke o' set- 
 tlements." 
 
 This was alarming, and I was completely per- 
 plexed when Miss Girzie subjoined 
 
 " It's vera true, Shoosie, but when a thought- 
 less young couple's coming thegether, it behoves 
 their friens to see that the solid temporalities are 
 no neglected in the delusions o' love." 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Girzie, you are quite right, 
 and you would be wanting in sisterly affection 
 if you did not see a proper jointure secured. At 
 the same time I will be plain with you, as the 
 friend of Mr Mailings I will set myself against 
 everything of the kind. I am very sorry, ladies, 
 that so unsurmountable a bar should have ari- 
 sen to the completion of a union every way 
 desirable." 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Miss Shoosie moved as if she would inter- 
 pose to prevent me from proceeding, but I was 
 so apprehensive of a more frank avowal of her 
 willingness to accept the Laird, that I raised my 
 voice, and continued 
 
 " It cannot, however, be helped. I cannot 
 see a gentleman's affections treated as no bet- 
 ter than saleable commodities. You will ex- 
 cuse me, ladies, but my feelings are strong on 
 the occasion. I do not blame you, however, 
 Miss Girzie, you are but doing your duty as I 
 am doing mine. I will tell Mr Mailings of what 
 has passed ; and as a lady is waiting for me on 
 particular business in another room, you will 
 pardon me for so abruptly wishing you a good 
 afternoon." 
 
 Miss Girzie at these words started up, and 
 said, " Sir, sir, just a minute." 
 
 " I can hear no more," cried I ; "it is plain 
 you intend to make a bargain with my friend. 
 No abatement of expectation, no retraction of 
 opinion on the subject, can change my mind. I 
 may seem to you warm, ladies, and I am so; 
 who can help it, when one hears of a gentle- 
 
222 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 man's heart and hand regarded as of no value, 
 unless the hand he filled with glittering trash !" 
 
 The tone in which I expressed myself, had so 
 sounded through all the house, that Mrs Soo- 
 rocks came rushing into the room, crying, 
 " Gudeness me, have they flown upon you 
 too?" 
 
 At the sight of that lady the two sisters rose, 
 and, making a formal courtly courtesy, moved 
 towards the door, while she returned the recog- 
 nition hy another so profound, that she seemed 
 to have fairly seated herself on the floor, set- 
 ting up at the same time a guffaw, that made 
 them tottle out of the room with short nimble 
 steps, supporting each other, as if some horrid 
 monster was bellowing at their heels. 
 
C 223 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 WHEN I had told Mrs Soorocks of what had 
 passed with the ladies, and related to her the 
 conversation I had held with Mr Coball when 
 we had mingled our opinions respecting the 
 demand which was likely to come so suddenly 
 on the Naboh, and when I saw the interest 
 which the doubtful situation of that gorgeous 
 personage had excited in the eager sympathy of 
 my visitor, I ordered tea for her, that we might 
 discuss at leisure the course we ought to adopt 
 in a case so singular and important ; but before 
 the kitchen, anglice tea-urn, was brought in, the 
 Laird made his appearance, evidently dressed 
 for some occasion of ceremony. 
 
 His coat and waistcoat were of the same snuff 
 colour ; the latter with flaps after the manner, 
 but of greater amplitude than the style of the 
 
THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 court dress ; his breeches of black silk, rather 
 short and scanty, were adorned at the knees 
 with heir-loom buckles of Bristol stones, set in 
 silver ; his stockings were also silk, of a bluish 
 tinge, and a cottonial dimness, the effect of many 
 lavations ; his shoes, cleaned by his man Jock, 
 though jet black, yet were more of a lacklustre 
 clothy appearance, than of the satin-like bril- 
 liancy of Day and Martin ; contrasting finely, 
 however, with the radiance of his richly-chased 
 massive Patagonian silver buckles ; he wore his 
 best wig well powdered ; a demi-forensic struc- 
 ture of a middle and anomalous architecture, be- 
 tween the prim tye-wig, with Ionic volutes over 
 the ears of a snug and debonair citizen, and the 
 wig of wisdom, luxuriant with corinthian curl, 
 which distinguishes the upper end of a Lord of 
 Council and Session. In the one hand he 
 carried his Sunday hat ; a fabrication of the last 
 century, silky and sable the sides half looped 
 up towards the crown, indicated that it had 
 been formed in that equivocal epoch when the 
 aristocratic cock, yielding to the progress of 
 taste and the march of intellect, was gradually 
 relaxing into the philosophical fashion which 
 
 4 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 225 
 
 ornaments the craniological organization of the 
 present enlightened age ; the other hand grasp- 
 ed his tall inalacca cane, crowned with gold and 
 shod with brass. A tassel of black silk, which 
 dangled from the whole above his hand, by its 
 centrifugal force, swept the air with magni- 
 ficent oscillations as he came staffing his way 
 into the centre of the room. 
 
 The first impression of this ceremonious ap- 
 pearance led me to think that the old gentle- 
 man had so adorned himself for the purpose of 
 paying a visit of gratitude to the Nabob ; and 
 Mrs Soorocks, it would seem, had formed the 
 same opinion, for before even the common sa- 
 lutations were exchanged, she said, 
 
 " Dear me, Mr Mailins, ye can never be go- 
 ing to Nawaubpore's at this time o' the day ? 
 he'll be at his dinner eating his dishes gude 
 for the liver complaint to be sure, he may ex- 
 cuse the intrusion of an auld-fashion'd man, 
 a hame'art gentleman, who has never seen the 
 world, nor gallanted, like him, wi j the yellow 
 ladies, in yon palaces o' delight in Indy." 
 
 " Dinna lift me before I fa', Mrs Soorocks," 
 replied the Laird, evidently not entirely pleased 
 
226 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 with her observation ; adding, " I am not going 
 to Nawaubpore, but to pay my respects to Grey 
 Stane." 
 
 " Grey Stane, Laird ? I didna ken that you 
 and the family were on visiting terms," said Mrs 
 Soorocks. " Mrs Luggie is certainly a pleasant 
 woman, and they say Miss Jenny, who cam last 
 week frae the boarding-school at Edinbro', is 
 grown a perfec beauty, and can play on the spi- 
 net, and paint red cabbages and kail blades 
 upon paper. It was a better world when a laird's 
 doughter learned to play on the spinnin' wheel, 
 and kent the wholesome use o' kail blades ; but 
 nae dou't your visit's a curiosity to see the 
 beauty ?" 
 
 " Ye're a woman o' sagacity," replied the 
 Laird, "and I'll no deny the truth amongfrien's; 
 for ever since ye pointed out to me the discon- 
 solateness o' my situation, without a help-meet, 
 I hae been seriously thinking that I wou'd be 
 the better o' a wife." 
 
 Here I interposed, exclaiming, " My gra- 
 cious ! Mr Mailings, did you not authorize me 
 to carry a proposal to the ladies of Barenbraes ?" 
 
 " And," cried Mrs Soorocks, " when I show- 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 227 
 
 cd the need that ye stood in o* somebody to 
 take care o' you, did I not tell you that Miss 
 Shoosie was the fittest woman in a* this country 
 side for that purpose ?" 
 
 " But ye ken," said the Laird, addressing 
 himself to us both, " that my heart grewed at 
 the thocht o' ony ane o* the twa reisted auld 
 frights crined in the flesh, wi' hides like the 
 
 skin o' a pouket guse, and hues like denty 
 
 lions I mean." 
 
 " But, Mr Mailings," said I, " I have done 
 my duty, and fulfilled the sacred trust which 
 you confided to me Miss Shoosie has consent- 
 ed to accept your hand, and share your fortune ; 
 and although her sister has some scruples of a 
 mercenary nature, yet your faith and troth are 
 pledged, and to retract now would be most dis- 
 honourable." 
 
 " Dishonourable !" exclaimed Mrs Soorocks, 
 " it wad be even-doon perfec perjuration if Dr 
 Lounlans were at hame, and siccan a sinfu' abo- 
 mination to be committed within the bounds o' 
 the parish, he wad set the session wi' its seven 
 heads and ten horns upon you, and ye hac had 
 some experience o' what it can do. Oh, Mr 
 
22S THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Mailings, ye havena the heart within ye to be- 
 tray the love o' a young woman. Whare div 
 ye think ye'll gang when ye dee ?" 
 
 The Laird, raked by this cross fire, fell into 
 confusion, and instead of parrying the attack, 
 replied with humility, 
 
 " I aye thocht that a man had a richt, at least 
 for ance in his life, to please himsell." 
 
 " Please yoursell to be sure," said Mrs Soor- 
 ocks, " but wi* a discretion And what discre- 
 tion wou'd there be in a feckless auld man to 
 marry a gallopin', gallantin', gigglin' Miss in her 
 teens, and to forsake a sober, douce, sensible, 
 agreeable, judicious woman ? I may weel say 
 to you, as Mause, in Patie and Roger, says to 
 Bauldy, 
 
 4 Vow and loup back 1 was e'er the like heard tell ? 
 Swith tak him, Deil, he's ower lang out o* / 
 
 I'll no attempt to metre't, but it means the ill 
 place. Deed, Auldbiggings, ye had better re- 
 pent and sin no more, or ye'll maybe hae Miss 
 Shoosie's death laid to your door, for she's a 
 kind gentle creatur, and canna miss but to die 
 o' a broken heart ; and what'll come o' ye then, 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 229 
 
 when, like the ghost in William and Margett, 
 her spirit appears at your bed fit, with a lily 
 hand and a sable shroud ?" 
 
 " But," rejoined I, " it is not to the session 
 only he shall answer it is not only before the 
 injured spectre o* Miss Shoosie that he will lie 
 quaking at the dead of night he must answer 
 to me. I will not submit, after having been so 
 entreated to negotiate the marriage, to see it so 
 lightly broken off, and for what ? a young girl 
 that has nothing but flesh and blood to recom- 
 mend her ! Mr Mailings, I consider myself 
 exceedingly ill used." 
 
 " Na !" cried Mrs Soorocks, " I canna see 
 hoo ye can be aff fechtin a duel wi' him and a 
 bonny sicht it would be to see him brocht hame 
 on a barn door, after getting his head shot aff, 
 and Jock, poor cretur, greeting and following 
 the mournfu' procession, carrying the head by 
 the lug, as if it was no better than a sheep's 
 gaun to the smiddy to be sing't." 
 
 The consternation of the Laird was continu- 
 ing to increase, and looking first at me, and 
 then at his ruthless tormentor, he exclaimed, 
 
230 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " Have I fallen into the hands o* the Philis- 
 tines?" 
 
 66 Philistines !" cried Mrs Soorocks ; " Sure- 
 ly ye're an uncircumceesed as weel as a man- 
 sworn deceiver. Had I no mollified Nawaub- 
 pore, there would hae been less daffin' in your 
 head the night ; for instead of dressing yoursell 
 out like a squire o* high degree, and singing, 
 ( I kiss'd and I prattled with fifty fair maids,' 
 to mak conquests o' bits o' lasses, ye would hae 
 been sitting in your forlorn chair, confabbing 
 wi* Jock, about whether by rope, or gun, was the 
 easiest way o' deeing. But I'll go to the Na- 
 bob this precious minute I'll let him ken what 
 a false deluding man ye are I'll tell him o' the 
 plague ye were to the kirk session, before Mr 
 Firlot got ye to right that amiable ill-used 
 woman your first wife, and the wrongeous mis- 
 chief ye would noo do to the sweet girl whom 
 Providence has made me an instrument to choose 
 for your second." 
 
 This last threat finished the Laird ; he lay 
 back in his chair with his eyes fixed on one of 
 the bell cranks, his arms hanging as it were 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 231 
 
 powerless by his sides, and every feature of his 
 face relaxed with helplessness. 
 
 " I canna," said he, in soliloquy, " warstle 
 wi' this I hae lang thole't the consperacy that 
 has sookit my rents I hae endur't the loss o' 
 my first love, Annie Daisie I quietly submit- 
 ted to my first wife till it pleased Providence to 
 quench her I hae seen the lands o* my fore- 
 fathers mouldering awa I hae known the ter" 
 rors o' the law, and the judgment o' a wadset 
 I hae had sickness o' heart, and the rheumatics, 
 and the toothach weel may I say wi* the play- 
 actor in the show that I allowit in our barn, 
 
 But it's this too solid flesh which makes the calamity of life, 
 For who would bear the pangs of despised love.. 
 The oppressor's wrong the insolence of law ?' 
 
 The deevil take Hugh Caption, and all the other 
 ills that flesh is heir to I'm ruin't beyond re- 
 demptionMrs Soorocks, and sir I gic myself 
 up into your hands be pitiful, if ye can." 
 
232 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 AFTER the departure of the Laird and Mrs 
 Soorocks, I set myself quietly down to read the 
 newspapers of the morning. Lugged as it were 
 forth from my accustomed privacy, I felt myself 
 involved within the influence of a vortex, preg- 
 nant with events to the worthies of my imme- 
 diate neighbourhood. Changes, at least for a 
 while, are lightsome ; and really I confess, that 
 I was not a little tickled with the surrounding 
 aspect of affairs; Miss Shoosie, Miss Girzie, and 
 Mrs Soorocks on one side, threatening matri- 
 mony against the Laird, and his man standing 
 " in defense," on the other ; while the Nahob 
 Dominie Tansie, and myself, put now and then 
 a finger in the pie ; keeping ever and anon a 
 watchful eye on trig Leezie, that Abigail, run- 
 ning blackfoot between the skirmishing parties. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. '^33 
 
 Half abstracted in these picturesque rumina- 
 tions, I had just commenced an immeasurable 
 leading article, the first sentences of which were 
 redolent of Mavrocordato, Ulysses, Lord Byron, 
 and the Greek Committee, when I was roused 
 from my reveries by the thunder of the Nabob's 
 chariot atmy door. 
 
 I was much surprised at this avatar, and no 
 less at the friendly and familiar courtesy with 
 which the Great Man addressed me. 
 
 " I have come," said he, " to talk to you 
 about a very comical affair, in which I may 
 stand in need of some assistance, and you are 
 the only man of any sense in the county." 
 
 " Then you have never been in Greenock, I 
 presume ?" 
 
 " O yes, I have though ! A very good sort 
 of a town plenty of punch, and much jaw 
 quite edifying to hear the excellent character 
 every one there gives of his neighbour they 
 have some fun too among them one John Es- 
 daile has long served them instead of Joe Mil- 
 ler but I have no time at present to send for 
 my friend the bailie ; besides, he's not very port- 
 
234 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 able, and I have left all my elephants in Bengal, 
 where I had one that could have carried him." 
 
 I was here so shocked at this personality, 
 that I almost fainted. I entreated him to for- 
 bear, and endeavoured to recall him from the 
 digression into which he had so much the habit 
 of falling, although he might have excused the 
 objectionable expression by making an apology, 
 as is usual in such occasions. 
 
 " Why, the business," said he, " is nothing 
 less than a claim on more than half my fortune. 
 I had a friend in India, one Tom Bayfield, who 
 rose to the rank of Colonel in the Company's 
 service ; he married one day a very pretty girl, 
 the daughter of my old chum Dick Campbell 
 they were very happy, and got three children 
 between them Tom was a devilish clever fel- 
 low, made upwards of ten lacs and died sud- 
 denly I was in Europe at the time, but in 
 making his will he left me his executor, and, fail- 
 ing his own children, his heir for I had lent 
 him a helping hand when he was only a cadet. 
 Somebody, however? put mischief into the 
 widow's head against me ? as if her children had 
 been cheated by this settlement, and she wrote 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 235 
 
 mo such vixen letters that I told her, hut in 
 polite terms, that she might go to the d 1; 
 although out of regard for her husband I did 
 intend to adopt her son. Well, as ill luck would 
 have it, on receiving my letter, she was advised 
 by some of her nincompoop relations in Bengal 
 to ship herself and family for Europe ; when, if 
 she had staid till a decent time after her hus- 
 band's death, she would certainly have got mar- 
 ried again but the ship was lost at sea, and it 
 was supposed that every soul on board perished, 
 so that I administered as heir to the Colonel. 
 But the deuce is in't, there has been with me 
 this afternoon a confounded impostor, as I think, 
 who says that he was in the ship with Mrs Bay- 
 field and her family; that the vessel was not 
 lost, but burned ; and that he had saved her son 
 Charles, whom I had intended to adopt; and 
 what do you think ? he brought a great lubber- 
 ly t>oy> whom he called Charles, and who was 
 no more like the babe that I saw in the arms 
 of the Ayah when I left India, than an Arab is 
 like a Caffre; but certainly, considering the 
 time that has elapsed since I saw the child, it may 
 have grown up to something like the size of the 
 
236 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 impostor's brat. Now, what would you advise 
 me to do in such circumstances ? I don't want 
 such proofs as the old Humhugs and Vakeels in 
 Edinburgh would require ; but before a man 
 parts with one half of his property just now, and 
 makes up his mind to leave the other at his 
 death, it is but reasonable that he should know 
 what he's about, and to whom he either gives 
 the one, or leaves the other. My friend Dr 
 Dewai came home with a large fortune, a wri- 
 ter's wife in Dundee palmed herself on him as 
 his near relation, and got the old fool to leave 
 her a legacy of ten thousand pounds ; but when 
 he died, and her husband had got the money, 
 it turned out that her mother had been his mo- 
 ther's chambermaid, and so got acquainted with 
 the secrets and connexion of the family. How 
 d d foolish I should look, if it were discovered 
 after my death that I had been as silly as De- 
 wai ! I never knew such a silly fellow as De- 
 wai. When I was resident at Lucknow, he was 
 
 surgeon to the Residency." 
 
 Apprehensive that the Nabob was again di- 
 gressing from the matter in hand, I brought 
 him back to the point, by asking if he had exa- 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 237 
 
 mined the stranger as to any evidence in his 
 possession of the facts he affected to state. 
 
 " O, to do the fellow justice," replied the 
 Nabob, " his story is plausible enough ; and he 
 says he has some letters of my own to Mrs Bay- 
 field ; but which, out of regard for the boy he 
 calls Charles, he will only show in the presence 
 of witnesses. I like the fellow for his caution. 
 I want, however, you, and that very sensible 
 lady, Mrs Soorocks, to come over in the morn- 
 ing, and tiff at Nawaubpore to-morrow, when 
 we shall meet the fellow, and will be able to say 
 something more about it. J Tis a d d hard case, 
 however, to be plucked so unexpectedly, and 
 that too by one whom the unconscionable sea 
 has given up, as it would seem, for the express 
 purpose. It puts me in mind of a story which 
 once happened in Calcutta. An officer was go- 
 ing up the country, and somewhere above Cos- 
 sembazar, his budgerow was upset, and the 
 Doudies all drowned ; he was himself ashore at 
 the time, and so escaped. When he found what 
 had happened, his business being urgent, he got 
 to the nearest village, where he procured some 
 kind of conveyance to a station, and proceeded 
 
238 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 by Dawk. The vessel, however, was picked up ; 
 and as he had not been heard of, it was pre- 
 sumed he had perished with the rest. So his 
 agents in Calcutta immediately mounted black 
 waistcoats, and entered a probat to his will. 
 But lo and behold, they received a letter from 
 their late friend, dated at Agra, stating that as 
 he had lost all his Shraub by the upsetting of 
 his budgerow, he would thank them to send a 
 fresh supply." 
 
 Here I found it necessary again to interrupt 
 the Burrah Sahib, by saying, that I would not 
 fail to be with him at the time proposed ask- 
 ing him at the same time, if he would take some- 
 thing after his ride. 
 
 " Thank ye, my good sir," said he, " I'll 
 take a glass of Brandy Pawney, as the evening's 
 hot." 
 
 I immediately ordered the brandy and some 
 spring-water fresh from the well. While pre- 
 paring the beverage, he resumed 
 
 " The would-be-genteel coxcombs of Calcutta 
 scout Brandy Pawney as vulgar, but we old 
 sportsmen of the Mafussil know better than 
 that comes to. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 239 
 
 " There's my worthy friend old Sir Thomas. 
 When he came round to Calcutta, he took up 
 his quarters with old Frank at Barrackpore. 
 Now the old peer always kept lots of the very 
 best wines, chiefly French, and other thin pota- 
 tions, that did not at all suit the tone of Sir 
 Tom's stomach ; and still, by way of kindness, 
 Frank used to press him to drink every wine 
 on the table. The Knight was obliged to com- 
 ply from politeness ; but often, while swilling 
 the well-cooled stuff, he would sigh for his old 
 friend the brandy-bottle. One day he got to 
 Calcutta, and slipping quietly on board of a 
 Drughy, he pushed off for the ship which had 
 brought him round from Bombay, and declared 
 to the captain that he was apprehensive of a 
 gangrene in his bowels from the gallons of sour 
 trash he had swallowed ; and though it was only 
 two o'clock P. M. the brace of them sat down, 
 and finished their gin-tumblers a-piece, which 
 the gentleman declared was the saving of his 
 life. O, it's a famous thing Brandy Pawney. 
 Dr Jock, my worthy friend, recommended it 
 both by precept and example. By the by, Jock 
 sent me out some of the d d black draught 
 
, I 
 
 240 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 he's so fond of, when I some time ago felt my- 
 self bilious and queery ; but as I was well be- 
 fore it arrived, I thought it a pity such good 
 stuff should be thrown to the dogs ; so I order- 
 ed a dose of it for my best China pig, for it was 
 then slightly indisposed, as a Cockney would 
 say And do you know it poisoned her ? She 
 died within the hour D d lucky I did not 
 take it myself." 
 
 Here the Nabob having finished his tumbler, 
 rose, and requesting me not to forget my ap- 
 pointment, adding that he would send his car- 
 riage to fetch Mrs Soorocks, bade me good night. 
 
I 241 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 I WENT by times next morning to the resi- 
 dence of Mrs Soorocks ; but on approaching the 
 house, discovered many signs which indicated 
 that the Lady could not conveniently accom- 
 pany me. It was washing-day, and the little 
 grass-plat within the sweetbriar-hedge between 
 her house and the high-road, was covered with 
 all manner of female and household drapery. 
 Ropes fastened in various directions to the iron- 
 railing, the lilac-trees, and the bolts and bars of 
 the window-shutters, were festooned with shifts, 
 sheets, and night-gowns, fixed on by split pie- 
 ces of wood feruled with tin ; napkins and 
 towels were spread upon the rose and gooseberry 
 bushes ; and the large table-cloth, so admired 
 at her New-year's-day festivals, for its damask- 
 ed views of Amsterdam in Holland, and other 
 2 
 
242 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 foreign cities, hung upon a special cord, like a 
 mainsail, between the lime and the rowan-tree 
 across the path leading to the front door. Ac- 
 cess at one entrance being thus shut out, I was 
 obliged to go round to the back of the house, the 
 great scene of the operations of the day. 
 
 In front of the wash-house, with kilted petti- 
 coats, our old acquaintance Leezy ravishing] y 
 " lap and flang" in a washing-tub, the spray of 
 which enveloping her in a mist, made her ap- 
 pear like a tutelar goddess amidst the spouting 
 tritons of a Parisian fountain. 
 
 Deep within the steamy-shade of the wash- 
 house, the full round physiognomy of the cook, 
 like the moon in a mist, loomed through the 
 rising vapours ; and in the darkness beyond, 
 Jean Japples, the hired washerwoman, stood 
 elevated on a tripod, like another Medea over 
 the cauldron, renovating the contents of it with 
 an ex-broomstick. 
 
 Not seeing Mrs Soorocks, I turned round to 
 inquire at Leezy for her mistress ; but at the 
 same moment, the lady herself made her ap- 
 pearance, in dishevelled morning garments, 
 with a watering-pan in her hand. On seeing 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 243 
 
 me, she set it down ; and coming forward, beg- 
 ged that I would walk into the house. I ex- 
 plained, however, on the spot, the object of my 
 visit, and the wish of the Nabob that she would 
 accompany me ; " but I see," said I, " that it 
 is a pleasure I cannot expect to-day." 
 
 "It's vera true," was the reply ; "for we're 
 thrang, and in confusion wi' our summer wash- 
 ing ; it's just extraordinar what a family files 
 in the course o' half a year, forbye the plague o' 
 sma* claes atween hands but it's a trouble you 
 men are never fash'd wi', and some of ye even 
 laugh at us drudging-women. My dear Mr 
 Soorocks used to say, in his jocosity, that twa 
 washings were equal to one white-washing, twa 
 whitewashings to one flitting, and twa flittings 
 to one fire. Really, I'm fash'd that I canna go 
 wi' you, and I wad fain stretch a point, if it were 
 possible, for the Nabob's cold collations are ver- 
 ra nice, and he's himsell so much o' the gentle- 
 man. But, dear me, is na that his carriage 
 coming alang the road It's no in possibility to 
 come up to the door, and I hae naebody to gang 
 to the yett to speak to that gran fitman. Lee- 
 zy, put yoursell right step out o' the boyne as 
 
244 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 fast as you're able, and say I'm dressing ; for I 
 maun go noo, since he has sent the coach on 
 purpose." 
 
 Accordingly, while Leezy went round to the 
 gate, taking time to adjust her own apparel, 
 which was no more in a state to receive visitors, 
 than that of her mistress, Mrs Soorocks went 
 into the house, and in less time than could rea- 
 sonably have been expected, (she is a clever wo- 
 man, ) returned adorned for the visit. 
 
 As soon as we were seated in the carriage, I 
 related with some degree of minuteness, what 
 the Nabob had told me of the state of his feel- 
 ings towards the family of Colonel Bayfield. 
 
 " Weel," said the lady, at the conclusion, 
 " I aye said that Nawaubpore had a generous 
 heart, for a' his vanity and ostentation ; but it 
 will be a dreadfu' thing if a man like him so 
 kind a neighbour, and who may be a blessing 
 to the country-side should be impoverished by 
 an impostor. I'll no soon forget the genteel way 
 he pardoned, at my intercession, that daized 
 remnant Auldbiggings ; and maybe in request- 
 ing me to be present this day at the precogni- 
 
CHAPTEH XXVIII. 24-5 
 
 tion, it may be put in my power to return his 
 condescension." 
 
 " But surely, Mrs Soorocks, if the case is 
 clearly made out that the boy is the son of Co- 
 lonel Bayfield, you would not think of inter- 
 cepting the just intentions of Mr Rupees ?" 
 
 " If 's a word o' power It's no in the course o* 
 nature, sir, that a ship burned at sea, and all 
 hands on board perished, should send forth a 
 leevin' witness to contradict the fact." 
 
 " True ; but it would appear that all on board 
 had not perished." 
 
 " Now that's what I'll no credit ; and I'll gie 
 you the reason of my misdoubt. Wha's the tes- 
 timony? A land-louper that naebody kens ony- 
 thing about. Ah, sir, if ye had sic experience 
 of the devices of man that I hae had, ye wadna 
 be sae credulous. A man comin' out o' the 
 deep like a Robinson Crusoe, wi' a white Fri- 
 day, to claim awa' the biggest half o' a gentle- 
 man's fortune it's just a thing for playactors, 
 and the likes o' Sir Walter, to mak* a clishma- 
 claver o' ; but amang people o' understanding, 
 it will be seen through, as a contrivance begot- 
 ten in sin, and brought forth in iniquity." 
 
246 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " There are many circumstances in the sto- 
 ry," said I, " singular and almost improbable, 
 I admit. But Mr Coball, the stranger, appear- 
 ed to me a man of unaffected sincerity warm 
 in his feelings, and simple in his manners." 
 
 " Simple manners ! Verily, verily, that shows 
 how an author may be versed in books, but scant 
 of experience respecting the multifarious crook- 
 ednesses of a wicked world. Did ye no hear o* 
 the leesin' makin* that I was made the innocent 
 victim o', nae farther gane than last year, when 
 the ne'er-do-weel wi' a blackit face came through 
 the kintra, makin' a wally-waeing about how he 
 was blawn up in a bombshell by the Algerines. 
 I had my doots o' the story when he cam to my 
 door, though he made it be as very true like a 
 tale, as your condisciple from the uttermost 
 ends o' the earth tells his ; but no to be thought 
 a'thegither hard-hearted, I put doon a sixpence 
 in his book o' beggary, wi' my name tiFt, and 
 what do ye think the graceless Gehazi did ? He 
 gaed to Widow M'Plooky's public, and waur'd 
 the sixpence on gills ; so waurin' the sixpence on 
 gills, he forged ten shillings before my sixpence, 
 makin' it look in the book like half-a-guinea. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 247 
 
 Then he gaed to Mrs Scuitles, and she seeing 
 my name doon for ten shillings and sixpence, 
 and knowing me for a woman o' moderate means, 
 and o' a sifting and discerning spirit, she put 
 doon hersel for a whole guinea. Syne he gaed 
 to auld Leddy Roughills, and she, no to be be- 
 hint hand, gied him another guinea ; and then 
 he ventured to my lord's, wha wi' his dochters 
 could do nae less than double the example. But 
 as he was on his way to the Nabob, the drink, 
 for of course he had been dry by the way, took 
 his head, and he fell on the road at the toll, where 
 he was kent, and there brought to light, for in 
 dighting his face, he dighted aff the cork coom, 
 and stood before the toll-keeper a bare-faced 
 malefactor. Think what I was obliged to en- 
 dure, wi' the wite o' being such a simpleton as 
 to gie him such a lovegift largess ; ye see what it 
 is to believe stories o' folk blawn up in the air, 
 and what ye're like to get for your pains." 
 
 " You have certainly assigned, Mrs Soorocks, 
 very good and sufficient reasons for doing no- 
 thing rashly ; I have, however, no apprehension 
 that Mr Rupees will suffer himself to be easily 
 deceived." 
 
248 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " He'll no be alloo'd were he ever sac willing, 
 if I hae ony voice It wou'd be even-doon com- 
 pos mentos to give ear to the tale o' a Jonah 
 frae the whale's belly ; but whisht, whisht, for 
 here's the house, and there's ane o' the heathens 
 leadin' Mr Caption's whuskey to the stables. 
 Weel, I'm glad o' that ; indeed it wasna to be 
 thocht that a man o' judgment and sensibility 
 like Nawaubpore, would be content on sic an 
 occasion wi* the like o' you, or even me, to bear 
 witness." 
 
[ 249 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 ON being shown into the library, we found 
 already before us Mr Coball, with a small red- 
 leather brass-nailed trunk in his hand, and the 
 boy at his side seated on a sofa. The Nabob 
 was at the writing-table opposite, with Mr Cap- 
 tion at his right hand. The reception of Mrs 
 Soorocks was particularly gracious, nor had I 
 cause to complain of any deficiency of hearti- 
 ness in mine. 
 
 The proceedings were opened by a summary 
 statement of the whole story from the Nabob, 
 who on this occasion showed both his shrewd- 
 ness and good sense as a man of business ; he 
 made 110 digressions, but concluded with re- 
 questing Mr Coball to produce his vouchers. 
 
 The red case was accordingly unclosed, and 
 the letters laid on the table. The Nabob took 
 
250 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 them up one by one ; and having looked at 
 them carefully, was on the point, as I thought, 
 of acknowledging at once their authenticity, 
 when Mr Caption said, who probahly thought 
 the same thing : 
 
 " It is not enough to be certain as to the wri- 
 ting look at the paper, the seals do not appear 
 to me as if they were exact impressions of an 
 original seal." 
 
 The Nabob knit his brows, but made no an- 
 swer. 
 
 Here Mrs Soorocks stepped forward, and lift- 
 ing one of the letters, looked at the seal, and 
 said 
 
 " It's my opinion this is no wax at a', but 
 fiddler's rosett, wi' gold foilzie in't, and oh it 
 is waff paper. Nawaubpore, ye wad never write 
 your letters on huxtry tea-paper." 
 
 The Nabob, smiling, shook his head, and Mrs 
 Soorocks looked to me with a triumphant coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " Any dishonest servant," said Caption, 
 " might become possessed of such papers, ad- 
 mitting, for the sake of argument, that they 
 may be genuine." 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 251 
 
 True," replied Mr Coball ; but such let- 
 ters do not appear, from anything in their con- 
 tents, to have been worth the stealing." 
 
 " Hoo can ye tell what a covetous-minded 
 servant wad think worth stealing ?" cried Mrs 
 Soorocks eagerly. " I had a servant-lass that 
 stole one of Mr Soorocks* Greek books. What 
 use could a Greek book be to her ? But she con- 
 fessed that she did steal it. There's no telling 
 what dishonest servants will do." 
 
 The Nabob interposed. 
 
 " The letters are mine," said he ; and turn- 
 ing to the lady, added jocularly, " As to the 
 wax, I know it well, I bought it at Hazaribaug ; 
 and the paper is Chinese, I brought from India 
 with me. Moreover, on reference to my Dawk- 
 book now before me, I find that the dates agree." 
 
 " But," he added, addressing himself to Mr 
 Coball, " it is strange that you should have ob- 
 tained possession of these letters only Have 
 you nothing else ? for they prove nothing as to 
 the identity of the boy there." 
 
 " With these letters," replied Mr Coball, 
 " were several valuable trinkets, and two pack- 
 ets of pearls." 
 
852 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " And what have you done with them ?" cried 
 Caption eagerly t " J Tis easy to say so." 
 
 " He'll hae made awa' wi' them," said Mrs 
 Soorocks, in half a whisper to me; 
 
 " No, madam," replied Mr Coball, who had 
 overheard her ; " they are here," and he laid 
 the packets and trinkets on the tahle. 
 
 Caption was evidently confounded, while the 
 Nabob's countenance brightened. 
 
 " But I canna see," resumed Mrs Soorocks, 
 " hoo a wheen gew-gaws can prove that black's 
 white, or, ony mair than the letters, mak it a bit 
 clearer that this bairn's no anither." 
 
 " Certainly not, madam," said Mr Caption 
 firmly " Certainly not, you are quite right." 
 
 " I thocht I wad be sae," said Mrs Soorocks, 
 and she looked significantly. 
 
 The Nabob in the meantime was examining 
 the trinkets ; and I observed that he noticed a 
 necklace with particular attention. * 
 
 Mr Coball at this crisis took out of the trunk 
 a small neat pocket memorandum-book, and 
 presented it open to the Nabob, saying 
 
 " I think this must have been a diary which 
 Mrs Bayfield was keeping of our voyage the 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 253 
 
 last entry is the date of the very day preceding 
 that night on which our calamity happened." 
 
 " I acknowledge," said the Nabob, at the first 
 glance, " that the writing appears to be Mrs 
 Bayfield's." 
 
 " But what does that prove ?" said Mr Cap- 
 tion. 
 
 " You will find," said the stranger calmly, 
 " that my name, James Coball, is mentioned in 
 a list of the passengers at the beginning." 
 
 Here Mrs Soorocks begged to look at the list. 
 
 " To be sure," said she, " there is the name 
 of a James Coball ; but whar's the proof that 
 ye are that James Coball, or that ye are a James 
 Coball at a' ?" 
 
 The stranger looked confused. 
 
 " Yes," cried Caption, " where is the evidence 
 of that fact?" 
 
 No immediate answer was given ; but after a 
 short pause, Mr Coball answered 
 
 " I think sufficient evidence has been produ- 
 ced, to convince any honest man that there is 
 truth enough in my story to induce the execu- 
 tor of the late Colonel Bayfield to examine the 
 whole circumstances, although there is not 
 
254 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 enough to make the heir in possession of Colo- 
 nel Bayfield's property surrender to this boy ; 
 but when I add, that several of those who were 
 saved with us in the boat, and particularly the 
 officer, to whom we were all so much indebted, 
 are alive, and I believe are at this time in Eng- 
 land, it would seem to me that beyond a decent 
 investigation of the facts there would be little 
 honour or honesty in resisting the claim." 
 The Nabob looked at me and said 
 " He's an honest man, after all." 
 66 Dinna be deceived, Nawaubpore," exclaim- 
 ed Mrs Soorocks ; "for there's mair depends 
 upon this matter, than being beguiled wi' a 
 blackened ne'er-do-weel as I was, ye ken, last 
 year." 
 
 The Nabob turned to Caption. " Ought we 
 not immediately to institute an inquiry to find 
 those witnesses ?" 
 
 66 No, sir," replied Caption, with a profession- 
 al smirk " No, sir, the onus probandi lies with 
 this gentleman, who hath spontaneously placed 
 himself in loco parentis to the infant." 
 
 " Ye're a man o' observation, Mr Caption," 
 cried Mrs Soorocks, her countenance brighten- 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 255 
 
 ing with satisfaction " Ye're a man o' obser- 
 vation. I'll say naething concerning the since- 
 rity o* lawyers' bosoms ; but I aye thocht there 
 was something in your head, whatever ill-na- 
 tured folks might say to the contrair." 
 
 The lawyer took no notice of this remark, 
 which, like most of the good lady's compliments, 
 cut both ways, but resumed 
 
 " It is not to be expected that the respondent 
 is to furnish the pursuer with evidence ; even 
 the Jury Court would hardly require anything 
 so unreasonable." 
 
 " But, Mr Caption," said the Nabob, " it may 
 turn out in this case that I am both plaintiff and 
 defendant ; and all I require is full and suffi- 
 cient proof; for another heir may make his ap- 
 pearance. I wish I had Craigdarroch with me 
 to set us on a proper train ; but, d n him, he's 
 doing patriot just now, and humbugging the 
 nincompoops of the Stewardry. If we had him 
 even fresh from one of his election-dinners, I 
 should be content, for I have known him after 
 a hard drink, and before going to bed, give a 
 clearer and sounder opinion than any of his bre- 
 
256 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 thrcn could after a light supper and a sober 
 sleep. He once conducted a case for me " 
 
 " Na," interrupted Mrs Soorocks, " if he's a 
 man o' that discernment, he'll do us some cre- 
 dit in the Parliament-house, and that's mair 
 than can weel be said of a* * the chosen five- 
 and-forty.' " 
 
 The Nabob here rejoined, 
 
 " This business, my dear lady, promises no 
 good to your friend the Laird ; for, in duty to 
 myself, it will be necessary to foreclose his mort- 
 gage immediately. Caption, you will take no 
 notice of my note of last night, desiring you to 
 stay the proceedings against Mr Mailings." 
 
 " Very well, sir," replied Caption " mis- 
 judged lenity, as I said ; but as your order was 
 in writing, you will be pleased instruct me in 
 writing to the contrary effect." 
 
 " Oh, Mr Roopy, (Nawaubpore, as I should 
 say,)" exclaimed Mrs Soorocks, " baud your 
 ban', and be melted to tender mercies, or what 
 will become o' the puir auld man ? Work he 
 canna, and want he maunna he'll be a burden 
 upon us all, and little do you ken o' the woe ye 
 may bring upon a most excellent woman ; for 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 257 
 
 he's on the point of marriage wi' Miss Shoosie 
 Minnigaff, ane o' the amiable leddies o j Baren- 
 braes. She'll dee o* a broken heart, if she does 
 na lay violent hauns on hersell." 
 
 This sad and gentle appeal, instead of produ- 
 cing the desired effect on the Nabob, only ser- 
 ved to make him burst into an immoderate fit 
 of laughter. 
 
 " Married ! the old guddah ! and to one of 
 those cameleopards too ! Who the devil contri- 
 ved this hopeful union? It must have been 
 yourself, Mrs Soorocks ; for it never could have 
 entered into the heart of man of any man to 
 marry a crane an adjutant is corpulent, com- 
 pared to her. Why, my good lady, if the worst 
 comes to the worst, he can only simply be star- 
 ved ; but if your benevolent scheme were ac- 
 complished, he would be starved, and pecked to 
 boot. But this long sederunt, as you would 
 call it, Mr Caption, will go well nigh to starve 
 us all, so I shall order dinner. Mr Coball, do 
 you, as soon as possible, procure the necessary 
 evidence. You may rest assured, that there 
 shall be no unnecessary or vexatious delay on my 
 
S58 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 part only make good your proofs, and I shall 
 be delighted to do justice to the son of my old 
 friend." 
 
 " Na," said Mrs Soorocks aside to me, " the 
 man's demented. Did ye ever hear o' sic a dis- 
 tracted action? To give up a property and 
 sic a property without being obligated accord- 
 ing to law ? I ken advocates in Embro', Na- 
 waubpore, that could keep the case in Court for 
 a* your days. There's my frien' but Til men- 
 tion nae names." 
 
 Here dinner was announced, and we adjourn- 
 ed to the banqueting-room. 
 
[ 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 NEXT morning, agreeably to an appointment 
 which I had made with Mrs Soorocks, as we 
 came home together in the Nabob's carriage, I 
 went over to her house to carry her with me 
 on an expiatory visit to the ladies of Baren- 
 braes. We had agreed that the decision of the 
 Nabob's character, notwithstanding his vanity 
 and foibles, was such as left no hope he would 
 again recede from his determination to foreclose 
 the mortgage on the lands of Auldbiggings ; I 
 had therefore urged her with all my powers of 
 persuasion to call with me on the venerable sis- 
 ters in our way home ; the cares, however, of 
 her great washing pressed heavily on her mind, 
 and she could not at the time think of consent- 
 ing ; but, to do her justice, she evinced no re- 
 luctance to make an ample apology to Miss 
 
260 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Sboosie ; and in consequence, it was agreed that 
 the ceremony thereof should be deferred till the 
 following day. 
 
 On the day following, accordingly, I went to 
 her house, and we walked leisurely on together. 
 " I'm thinkin'," said she, as we got on the 
 footpath of the high-road " I'm thinkin' that 
 the auld man, if we were to forsake him now, 
 would be a per fee object ; but I feel that we 
 are agents, raised up as it were like babes and 
 sucklings, to bring him out o' the house o' bond 
 age, the which, in my opinion, is the debtor's- 
 hole in the tolbooth, if waur than captivity were 
 not to be his lot." 
 
 " I agree, ma'am, in all you say. It is most 
 consolatory to think that we are both afforded 
 an opportunity to show how mankind are capa- 
 ble of doing a disinterested action." 
 
 " I'll mak' nae rouse o' mysell," replied the 
 lady ; " but I ken the secrets o' my own breast ; 
 and tho' I dinna wish to lightly your loving- 
 kindness towards Auldbiggings, I hae a notion 
 it may be something like a bit spunk o' curio- 
 sity that has helped to heat the zeal o' your dis- 
 interestedness ; for I have remarked I mean 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 261 
 
 offence that ye hae a particular pleasure 
 in lookin' into the catastrophes o' ither folks. 
 For my part, I am thankfu' to walk wi' a hum- 
 ble heart and a contrite spirit ; for if good 
 come o' my sma' endeavour, sure am I that 
 nane o' the merit thereof can be attributed to 
 me." 
 
 Thus piously discoursing, we plodded 011- 
 ward to the door of Barenbraes ; and as it was 
 agreed between us, I entered first, and thus 
 opened the business: 
 
 " Ladies, I have brought with me a person 
 whom we have all great reason to esteem. Ever 
 since she had the misfortune to incur your dis- 
 pleasure, she has been the most wretched of 
 womankind, she comes to confess a fault, to 
 acknowledge a sin, and if you require it, even 
 on bended knees, to kiss the hems o' your gar- 
 ments " 
 
 " In a figurative sense," interrupted Mrs Soo- 
 rocks. 
 
 But I waved my hand to her to be quiet, and 
 continued :- 
 
 " Miss Girzie, I have long respected your 
 prudence, and valued your excellent sense ; so 
 
262 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 I told our mutual friend here, that although her 
 offence was of very great enormity " 
 
 " Enormity ! her assurance was large," cried 
 Miss Shoosie. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Shoosie, her imprudence was 
 large, indeed, but her repentance is without 
 measure " 
 
 " In a certain sense," said Mrs Soorocks. 
 
 " But," continued I, " it would be idle to 
 waste words on ladies of your piety, were I to 
 attempt to urge that this was a case for the ex- 
 ercise of the Christian grace of forgiveness. If 
 Mrs Soorocks be hasty in temper, and rash in 
 tongue, you know, Miss Girzie, that you have 
 the failing of sometimes giving provocation ; and 
 Miss Shoosie, mild as ye are, which my friend 
 Mr Mailings regards as the greatest grace of 
 your gentle sex, yet you know that there are 
 times when the best of us may err, and even 
 when you yourself " 
 
 " If," interrupted Miss Shoosie, " Mrs Soor- 
 ocks has come to beg my pardon, she'll find 
 that I'll no be insensible to the dishonour she 
 has brought upon hersell." 
 
 " She comes to beg your pardon ; but you 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 263 
 
 must not use such words as dishonour when 
 we are treating of peace. Mrs Soorocks, do 
 you ask pardon of the ladies ? Ladies, do you 
 on your part acknowledge that faults are on both 
 sides ? For, in the exercise of a sound discretion, 
 reciprocal concession is what I would recom- 
 mend to all." 
 
 " Weel, leddies," said Mrs Soorocks, " since 
 it maun be sae, what can we do but submit? 
 tho' I think, Miss Shoosie, ye give baith the 
 sore stroke and the loud cry ; howsever, since 
 it's a* past, and we're frien's again " 
 
 " Friends !" cried Miss Girzie, with an Eng- 
 lish accent " Friends ! we may forgive what's 
 past, but I see no obligation for us to be friends." 
 
 " Come, come, ladies, neighbours should be 
 neighbour-like," said I ; " and, Miss Shoosie 
 if you knew the cause that has brought Mrs 
 Soorocks here to-day, instead of standing so 
 far aloof from reconciliation, you would embrace 
 her in your arms, and press her to your heart. 
 She has been explaining to me the mournful 
 situation of Mr Mailings." 
 
 " It's no my fault," interposed Miss Shoosie ; 
 " for if ye had waited to hear what me and my 
 
264 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 sister were going to say the other night, you 
 would never have thocht us such mercenary 
 women as to have hroken off with a gentleman 
 like Mr Mailings for the lucre o' gain." 
 
 " Na," said Mrs Soorocks, " considering the 
 jeopardy that you and Miss Girzie are in, o' a 
 sudden retribution frae your sister, LeddyChan- 
 dos, like a thief in the night, ye wad hae been 
 waur than mad had ye made a hesitation ; for 
 oh, it rins before me, like the shadow o j a forth- 
 coming judgment upon ye, Miss Shoosie, the 
 terrible day that the cry o' Justice, wi' the scales 
 in her ae hand, and the sword in her ither, will 
 be heard afore your door, and plack and baw- 
 bee to the uttermost will be required aff ye. 
 I canna imagine, leddies, what makes you 
 swither." 
 
 " We dinna swither ; but we would act pru- 
 dently." 
 
 " Ca' ye't acting prudently, in your situation, 
 to risk the loss of a most estimable man's affec- 
 tions for what canna be modesty, Miss Shoo- 
 sie ? you surely hae lived ower lang in the world 
 to ken what modesty means between fifty and 
 threescore. Leddies, leddies, I maun use the 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 266 
 
 freedom o' an auld frien' wi' ye yere tyning 
 your time. Just come ower the night, and tak* 
 your tea wi* me, and I'lV send for Mr Mailings ; 
 and as Nawaubpore's a Justice o' the Peace, I 
 dinna misdout his coming, and we'll get the 
 marriage put out o' haun* " 
 
 Miss Shoosie cast down her eyes as she re- 
 plied, 
 
 " I could never think of such a rash step." 
 
 " Oh! Mrs Soorocks," exclaimed MissGirzie, 
 " it's what I never could alloo, twa clandestine 
 marriages in my father's family oh no !" 
 
 " You are quite right, Miss Girzie, it would 
 make folk expect a third." 
 
 " But," said Mrs Soorocks, " noo, when I 
 think o't, it might occasion malicious insinua- 
 tions, to the great damage and detriment of 
 Miss Shoosie's fair fame, considering the well- 
 known and long-tried affection subsisting be- 
 tween her and the Laird ; so I'll no insist ; but 
 come to your tea, and I'll hae Mr Mailings o j 
 the party, when we can arrange a' about the 
 booking and the buying o' your bridal braws, 
 since ye will hae a regular marriage." 
 
 Having thus established peace, and arranged, 
 
266 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 as I had supposed, the business of the evening, 
 and being regaled with the ladies' home-made 
 wine, Mrs Soorocks and I hade them adieu, and 
 bent our steps towards Auldbiggings. Before 
 we had, however, reached the bottom of the 
 avenue, we observed Jock coming from the 
 house, like an ostrich at full speed, his arms 
 swinging in the air, and his skirts streaming 
 behind. As he drew near, horror and conster- 
 nation were legible in his countenance, and 
 in one hand he held a letter, which he gave to 
 me, before he could collect breath to explain the 
 burden of his haste. As the shortest means of 
 discovering the motive of his speed, I opened 
 the letter, and read as follows : 
 
 " To MALACHI MAILINGS, Esquire of Auld- 
 biggings. 
 ." SIR, 
 
 " I am instructed by my client, Mr Wal- 
 ter Rupees of Nawaubpore, to beg your atten- 
 tion to my last, dated 3d current ; and further 
 to state, that if satisfaction is not rendered 
 thereto quam primum, diligence will immedi- 
 ately issue. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 267 
 
 " I am further instructed, with respect to the 
 matter of the interest due last money, and toties 
 quoties called for, to request an answer quam 
 primum. 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 " Your obedient Servant, 
 
 " HUGH CAPTION." 
 
 By this time Jock had recovered his breath, 
 and said, 
 
 " Weel, ye see the last trumpet's now blawn, 
 what's to be done ? is't no possible to get a 
 respite till the lottery be drawn ? The Laird's 
 just gane bye himsell he's toddlin' but and tod- 
 dlin' ben the house, whiles wringin' his hauns, 
 and whiles makin' murgeons as if he was speak- 
 iri'. It was a better world when gentlemen 
 werena fash'd wi' law. I'm sure the ten com- 
 mandments are worth a' the King's statutes, 
 and ye'll no fin' a word in them about payin' o* 
 debts, e'en an ye were able. I'm just wud to 
 think o' the mischief that this law law law 
 has brocht upon poor Scotland ! But oh ! I'm 
 glad to see you and Mrs Soorocks, ye'll be a 
 great cordial to him under his calamity; and 
 
268 THE LAST OF TllE LAIRDS. 
 
 oh, mem, dimia mak' your charity on the pre- 
 sent occasion a bit and a huffet wi't ; but speak 
 him kindly, for oh, he's helpless, and far past 
 the power o' Jenny Clatterpans and me to gie 
 him ony comfort, even though we baith fleech- 
 ed him, and clapped him on the shoothers, yin 
 at every side, to tak anither tumbler o' toddy ; 
 for hath not Solomon said, in the words of Ro- 
 bie Burns, 
 
 4 Gie him strong drink until he wink, 
 That's sinkin' in despair ?' 
 
 Blyth was I when I saw you comin' ; but when 
 ye gang to the house, dinna let wot that ye hae 
 seen me, or ken onything about what's gaun 
 to happen ; for our Laird was aye proud, and 
 this misfortune has made him a perfect turkey- 
 cock for pride, he storm' d at Jenny Clatter- 
 pans and me for our kindness, and push'd us 
 awa, and wonder'd hoo we daured to be sae fa- 
 miliar wi' our master ; crying out a wee de- 
 leerit as I thocht that had it no been for the 
 poortith come upon him, we would never hae 
 been sae upsetting ; and he wyted it a* on the 
 liberty and equality speerit o' the times, and the 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 269 
 
 taxes, and the high wages, that were grindin' 
 the rightfu' gentry frae aff the face o' the earth. 
 Noo, dear sir and mem, I heg and beseech 
 that ye'll speak him kindly, and mak* much o' 
 him, for oh, he's grown thin-skinned ! Mrs 
 Soorocks, lie canna thole a taunt noo !" 
 
 This sad account of the Laird's condition, 
 had the effect of embarrassing us both ; and on 
 leaving the simple and faithful creature, we 
 proceeded towards " The Place," without ex- 
 changing a word, or making a single comment 
 on what we had heard. 
 
270 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 ON approaching the door, Jenny Clatterpans 
 was standing there, and from time to time she 
 looked towards the garden ; the other maid was 
 also visible behind her, and every now and then 
 took a peep in the same direction. The aspect 
 of Jenny was visibly troubled, nor did her com- 
 panion's wear a more tranquil expression ;but 
 still the countenances of both betokened some- 
 thing which commanded deference to their feel- 
 ings. 
 
 Whether Mrs Soorocks felt exactly as I did, 
 it were impossible to determine by anything in 
 her voice or gestures, but she abruptly left me 
 and went towards the maids. At the same mo- 
 ment I happened to turn round, and discovered 
 the Laird walking to and fro in the garden, with 
 his hands behind, his eyes perusing the grass of 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 271 
 
 the walks, and his whole figure, by the bend 
 and by the solemnity of his air, indicating the 
 perplexity of his spirit. 
 
 I went immediately towards him, none dis- 
 pleased at that moment to be relieved from the 
 presence of Mrs Soorocks. I put on the blith- 
 est face I could assume, and tuned my voice to 
 cheerfulness as I drew near to the dejected old 
 man. But although he saw me coming, and 
 nodded in his wonted familiar manner as I 
 approached the walk which he was pacing, he 
 soon relapsed into his reverie, and moved along 
 unconscious of being so observed. 
 
 I stopped some ten or fifteen yards from him ; 
 I looked forward, and the distress of his mind, 
 though visibly mingled with a strong ingredient 
 of absurdity, was yet such as could not be seen 
 without sympathy. 
 
 As he walked along the dark unmowed grass, 
 he paused suddenly, and stooping forward, he 
 pulled a rose. 
 
 " It's my ain yet," said he with a smile, as 
 he turned round, and smelling it, held it out to- 
 wards me. 
 
 " It has grown in my forefathers' land," he 
 
272 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 added ; " I set it mysell I made the hole for't 
 wi' my am very fingers I watered it wi' the 
 china jug, that was my father's punch porringer, 
 as I hae heard my kind mother say and what 
 can be a man's ain, if that hush and bud be na 
 mine ?" 
 
 Then he moved some four or five paces, and 
 tearing the flower into pieces, he scattered the 
 petals around, and knitting his brows andclench- 
 ing his hands, he rushed with his left hand ex- 
 tended, as if he entreated and deprecated some 
 afflicting power, revealed in form only to him- 
 self. It is the peculiar characteristic of all grief- 
 ful emotions to move and gesticulate with the 
 left arm, as in like manner it is for those of 
 power and exertion to indicate their predomi- 
 nance by the energy and emphasis of the right. 
 
 When that brief paroxysm had subsided, he 
 returned leisurely and sedately towards the spot 
 where I was standing. 
 
 " Is there no a possible o' ony kind, by the 
 which this may be eschewed ?" 
 
 He seemed to think by the expression, that I 
 must of course be acquainted with the cause 
 and sources of his trouble, and had his pertur- 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 273 
 
 bation been less obviously painful, perhaps I 
 might have played a little with his perplexities, 
 but his look was so vacant and infantine, that 
 it was impossible to regard him with any other 
 sentiment than pity. 
 
 " I understand," said I, " that the Nabob has 
 resolved to follow out his determination. I am 
 sorry for it, but his own condition half pleads in 
 extenuation of his rigour." 
 
 " It was a luckless day," was the answer, 
 " when the thread of my life was ravelled wi' 
 his knotty thrums my lot and station, though 
 lanerly, was lown I had nae law fashin' me, 
 but only an uncertainty about a bit heritable 
 bond, that in a sense wasna worth the speak- 
 ing about. Noo, I'm driven to desperation. 
 There's that limb o' Satan, Caption, greetin' in 
 the king's name there's John Angle, the sur- 
 veyor, demanding a compensation and there's 
 that goolden image o** Nebuchadnedzor, Rupees 
 Oh, oh, and alas ! if I wasna preserved, I wud 
 droon mysell. My book I canna write to 
 work I'm no able the curse o' Gilbert, when 
 he was a beggar man, has overtaken me ; for 
 s 
 
274 THE LAST OP THE LAIRDS. 
 
 when the three pound in the desk-head is spent 
 and gone, I'll no hae a penny left for a morsel 
 Fm a destitute creature I'm a forlorn auld 
 man I'm a verra object Oh, I'm an object !" 
 
 I endeavoured to console him as well as I 
 could, but the sense of desolation was so strong 
 upon him that the endeavour was ineffectual. 
 
 " It's a terrible thing," cried he, " for a man 
 to be miserable. O, Adam and Eve, ye hae 
 muckle to answer for. If I was young, I would 
 be a sodger. Were my mind composed, I could 
 write an instructin' book. Had I been bred a 
 tailor, I could have made claes; but I canna 
 even sing ballats ; for Heaven in its displeasure 
 made me wi' a timmer tune. I can do naething 
 but beg. I'll no can lang even gang frae door 
 to door ; for I'm auld, and I hae an income in 
 my leg I'll hae to sit on a stane on the road- 
 side, wi' a ragged hat on my knee, and my bare 
 grey head in the shower Heaven preserve me, 
 will I be sittin' beggin' at my ain yett !" 
 
 The last sentence was uttered with a tone of 
 horror that made me shudder, and I said, 
 
 " Mr Mailings, do not give way to such 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 27/i 
 
 frightful presentiments ; I beseech you to be 
 more composed." 
 
 " 1*11 be put in a prison," cried he " I'll be 
 fastened doon wi" 1 an airn chain in the debtor's- 
 hole but what will they mak' by that ? for I 
 hae naething the dyvor's bill can do nae gude 
 to a failed and broken-hearted auld beggar man 
 To be sure, I might steal cocks and hens, and 
 be sent to Botany Bay ; but what could I do 
 there. O dear, I wish I was in another world, 
 for my use and part in this world is done now." 
 
 He then walked away from me, and conti- 
 nued for several minutes pacing another part of 
 the garden. Sometimes he halted and raised 
 his hand, as if he were arguing with himself; 
 anon he quickened his pace, and at last he turn- 
 ed briskly round, and came rushing towards me 
 with exultation in his countenance. 
 
 " I hae found a redemption," he exclaimed. 
 " HI marry Miss Shoosie Minnigaff. She has 
 goold in goupens. I hae heard my mither say 
 there wasna sic a plenished napery-kist as the 
 ane at Barenbraes in a' the west o' Scotland ; 
 and if I dinna like her, ye ken, she'll hae the 
 
276 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS, 
 
 means of providing hersell wi' a separate main- 
 tenance." 
 
 So intense had been the distress of the old 
 man, that I really felt as it were relieved, when 
 he proposed to adopt this sinister and sordid ex- 
 pedient ; and in consequence it may be not in 
 a spirit of the purest morality I applauded his 
 resolution, and began to commend the merits 
 and qualities of the lady with many a magnify- 
 ing augmentative. 
 
 At this juncture, Mrs Soorocks joined us; it 
 was evident by her manner as she approached, 
 that the servants had very sensibly affected her 
 compassion, and her exhilaration was at least 
 equal to mine, when I told her that the Laird 
 had resolved to marry Miss Shoosie. 
 
 " It's a wark "said he, however, with a sigh. 
 
 " And of mercy to yoursell, Laird, that ye'll 
 alloo. But no to mak mair clishmaclaver about 
 it, I expect my friend Bailie Waft frae Paisley 
 in the afternoon ; so ye'll come ower, and tak 
 your tea and a crack wi' him, and I'll send for 
 the leddies, and we'll soon get a' settled." 
 
 " It's a soor drogue, mem," replied the Laird ; 
 " but the ill and the ail need the dose I canna 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 277 
 
 but say, that it's a most extraordinar thing that 
 a man hasna a choice o' his ain in choosin' the 
 wife of his bosom. That weddings are made in 
 Heaven, it's ill to believe, if I'm ordained to be 
 brocht to sic a puir pass as this comes to ! to 
 think that ever I should hae been brocht to mar- 
 ry such a gray gull as Shoosie Minnigaff it's an 
 iniquity it's a cryin' sin it's a sellin' o* me to 
 the Ismaelites D 1 tak baith law and gospel, 
 I'll no marry her yet." 
 
 " But consider," cried Mrs Soorocks, "there's 
 Mr Caption " 
 
 " Whare ?" cried the Laird, starting and 
 looking round. 
 
 " And Mr Angle," resumed the lady, " de- 
 manding, as I am told, twenty golden guineas 
 for his curiosity." 
 
 " He may thank the government," replied 
 the Laird, " that it's an impossibility to get 
 them. Wasna the guineas put doon and hidden 
 frae the light o' day, and the sight and reach o' 
 man, in the bottomless dungeons o' the Bank 
 o' England, like prisoners doomed to everlast- 
 ing captivity, a' to let the King raise money by 
 a stamp-act on bank-notes, by the which " 
 
278 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Here the old man was getting on his hobby ? 
 when Mrs Soorocks interfered 
 
 " Hoot toot. Laird, we dinna want to hear o' 
 your standard unit the noo, when we're speakin' 
 o' marriage so ye'll just come to your tea, and 
 meet your blooming hride. Leave a' the lave o* 
 the trouble to folk that understand thae matters 
 better than yoursell." 
 
279 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 AT the time appointed, and punctual to the 
 hour, I was at the door of Mrs Soorocks. My 
 friend Leezy admitted me with a pleasant arid 
 significant smile. I was desirous of saying 
 something to her on the occasion ; but the par- 
 lour door being open, I could only smile in re- 
 turn, and walk forward. 
 
 On entering the room, I was delighted to see 
 the Laird in full dress, and the two ladies of 
 Barenbraes, all there before me. Miss Shoosie 
 was sitting far aloof, with downcast eyes, and 
 looking interestingly bridal, to the best of her 
 ability. The air of Miss Girzie was more dis- 
 engaged ; and she was seated beside the Laird, 
 seemingly on terms of easy conversation. Mrs 
 Soorocks herself was busy spreading and cut- 
 ting down the greater part of a large loaf. 
 
280 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 As the entertainment was of a pre-nuptial 
 character, it was of course of more than wont- 
 ed ceremony ; and accordingly the tea-table dis- 
 played a more than usual show of short-bread, 
 puffs, and seed-cake, to which were added, the 
 delicacies of jellies and marmalades. 
 
 A little behind Mrs Soorocks, and not obser- 
 vable on first entering the room, her cousin, 
 Bailie Waft, was seated, refreshing himself after 
 his walk with a glass of whisky and water, 
 sweetened with Muscovado sugar. 
 
 " Dear me, Bailie," exclaimed Mrs Soorocks, 
 looking round, after I was seated, " what have 
 I been about ? no to gie you a lime, when I hae 
 got five left o' the half-a-dizzen that was sent 
 to me by the carrier frae our frien' Mrs Pun- 
 cheons. What dainties thae West India folk in 
 Glasgow enjoy ! They weel ken hoo to mak 
 turtle-soup wi' Madeira wine, and no like the 
 lady o' their Port, that boiled a whole turtle-fish 
 wi' barley, and was feared to eat it, thinkin* it 
 wasna wholesome because it didna turn red in 
 the shell like a partan." 
 
 So saying, she rose, and opening her cup- 
 board-door-, took out a lime from five lying in 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 281 
 
 a small china-plate, shrivelled ou the skin, and 
 as brown as walnuts. 
 
 By the by, Mrs Soorocks* cupboard was what, 
 in Renfrewshire, is called a dining-room press, 
 being one of those domestic Museums peculiar 
 to the royal county, and as hers was an exam- 
 ple of the kind, it well deserves to be particu- 
 larly described. 
 
 The folding-doors disclosed an arched niche, 
 with pilasters on each side. The shelves were 
 scolloped in the edges, the whole painted of a 
 bright green, and the edges of the shelves and 
 the capitals of the pilasters were gaudily trick- 
 ed and gilded. 
 
 On the bulging centre of the first shelf lay 
 inverted a large punch-bowl, on the bottom of 
 which stood one of lesser dimensions, out of 
 which rose a curious cordial-bottle with two 
 necks. The bowl was flanked with a row of 
 long-shanked wine-glasses, with white spiral 
 ornaments in the stalks, and at the extremity 
 of each wing stood a tall urn-like china-pot 
 with a lid. In the obscurity behind the glasses, 
 you might discover a row of china-plates on 
 
282 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 their edges ; and above each, on a brass-nail, 
 hung as many custard-glasses by their handles. 
 
 On the second floor, the curiosities were 
 somewhat reversed. The shelf receded in the 
 middle, and sweeping forward on both sides, pro- 
 jected over the trays, which below were adorn- 
 ed with the tall spiral-stalked glasses already 
 described ; on each of these projections, two 
 middle-sized punch-bowls were inverted, the 
 bottom of each surmounted with a china tea-pot 
 of an antic and fantastical form ; in the centre 
 was a vacant place, generally occupied by the 
 silver tea-pot then upon the table ; at each side 
 of it usually stood a lofty porcelain tower of 
 tea-cups and saucers but one of them was at 
 this time demolished, and placed on the tray for 
 the use of the company, A variety of minor 
 bijouterie and wine-glasses filled up the inter- 
 stices. 
 
 The centre of the third shelf again projected, 
 and on it stood a stately crystalline structure, 
 consisting of several stories of syllabub glasses, 
 crowned with a large and lofty shallow goblet, 
 which at the New-year's festival of Mrs Soor- 
 ocks, when the whole power and splendour of 
 
CHAPTER XXXI i, 283 
 
 her cupboard were made effective, was usually 
 occupied with a venerable preserved orange 
 a gift of some years antiquity from one of 
 her nieces, confected a priori to her own wed- 
 ding. On each side of this glittering and fra- 
 gile pile, stood a miscellaneous assemblage of 
 marrowless cups, cracked cream-pots and ale- 
 glasses, flanked by two enormous goblets, with 
 the initials of the late Mr Soorocks engraved 
 thereon. Like many of the other things, they 
 were never used, save on the great annual ban- 
 quet so often referred to; on which occasion, 
 the one was filled with ale and the other with 
 porter after dinner. 
 
 The tea-urn having been brought in, Mrs 
 Soorocks said 
 
 " As ye're the young leddy, Miss Girzie, ye'll 
 mak' the tea ;" and so saying, she rose from her 
 chair at the tea-table, and then came and seated 
 herself beside the Laird, while I drew my chair 
 close to the left of Miss Girzie ; her sister also 
 moved in echelon upon her right. 
 
 Miss Girzie having lifted one of the little sil- 
 ver tea-cannisters, began to take out the ortho- 
 dox quantity with a spoon, by one spoonful for 
 
284 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the tea-pot, and one for each guest. During this 
 process I heard the intended bride whisper ing- 
 ly say " Girzie, dinna be wasterfu', shake the 
 spoon, and no heap every ane as if it were a 
 cart o' hay." 
 
 Tea being made, the task of handing it round 
 was imposed upon the Laird, he being, as Mrs 
 Soorocks observed, the young man of the com- 
 pany, though this chronologically was not ex- 
 actly the fact. 
 
 During the time the entertainment was being 
 served, our conversation was of a general and 
 ordinary description. Bailie Waft talked poli- 
 tical economy, and argued with the Laird against 
 the corn laws ; Mrs Soorocks expatiated on the 
 felicity of the married state ; while I said agree- 
 able things to Miss Girzie, interspersed with 
 exhilarative allusions in parenthesis to her sis- 
 ter. 
 
 So passed the time till tea was finished ; and 
 when the equipage was removed by Leezy, and 
 the door shut, Mrs Soorocks thus began the 
 prologue to the matrimonial theme : 
 
 " I have long wished to see such a meeting 
 as the present. Time wears out all things, and 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 285 
 
 lairds and ladies arc like the flowers that bloom, 
 and plants that perish creatures of a day, and 
 butterflies o' the sunshine. It has often been 
 a wonder to me how year after year should have 
 passed away, and the affection so long nourish- 
 ed in secret atween I'll no say wha should 
 never hae come to an issue." 
 
 The Laird hemmed sceptically, and Miss Shoo- 
 sie looked for her pocket-hole, that she might 
 no doubt be ready with her handkerchief. 
 
 " But," continued Mrs Soorocks, " whatever 
 .is ordained will sooner or later come to pass ; 
 and seldom hae I ever had in my life a pleasanter 
 reflection, than in seeing here twa young per- 
 sons made for one another." 
 
 The Laird looked with the tail of his eye to- 
 wards Miss Shoosie, and seemed as if he smelt 
 senna, or mandragora ; while she drew her hand 
 over her face bashfully, as if to conceal the depth 
 of her emotions. 
 
 The Bailie interposed 
 
 " There's nae need, cousin, to mak thrown- 
 
 up warp o' the web we hae in han' ; the young 
 
 couple understand one another ; and if the yarn 
 
 has been raveled for a time, it's weel redd noo. 
 
THE LAST OF THE LATRDS. 
 
 The only thing that I would object to is the de- 
 lay, and for twa sound and substantial reasons 
 first, it's an auld byword and a true, that 
 delays are dangerous ; and under the second 
 head, I would speak o' economy, and anent the 
 expense o' what extravagant wasterfu' women 
 ca' bridal braws." 
 
 " In that," said I, interrupting him, " I agree 
 with you, Mr Waft ; on this occasion, such ex- 
 penditure is quite unnecessary." 
 
 " But," rejoined Miss Girzie, " wouldna my 
 sister, Mrs Soorocks, don't you think, require 
 a riding-habit for the wedding-jaunt ?" 
 
 " It's verra true," was the answer, " that mo- 
 ny a young leddy that ne'er was on a horse's 
 back, nor expects to be, gets a riding-habit at 
 her marriage, the which is put to nae ither use 
 after, than to be made up into claes for some o' 
 the bairns ; and in that respect, there might be 
 something to be said for your sister getting ane ; 
 but all things considered " 
 
 Here the Laird groaned from the depths of 
 his spirit, and the Bailie quietly interposed 
 
 " But if there is no marriage-jaunt, and I see 
 no need of such a thing, where i>s the need to 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 287 
 
 mak an outlay for a riding-habit at all ? 'Deed, 
 my friends, if you'll be ruled by me, you'll mak 
 up for your lost time, and declare a marriage 
 at once, without farther summering or winter- 
 ing about the matter." 
 
 " Oh," cried Miss Girzie, lifting her hands, 
 and spreading her fingers, " is't a possibility !" 
 
 Miss Shoosie heaved a sigh. The Laird rose 
 from his seat, and walking with his hands be- 
 hind his back to the window, raised another in 
 responsive echo ; while Mrs Soorocks, before 
 commencing operations, gave me a sly nod, as 
 much as to intimate her ability and readiness 
 to carry on the attack. 
 
 " Laird," said she, " I'm no ane that is for 
 hurrying on a solemn business in a rash man- 
 ner. Before we come to speak of the wedding 
 seriously tho' we're only joking yet " 
 
 The Laird interrupted her tartly, and looking 
 round with a particularly sinister expression of 
 countenance, concluded the sentence by adding 
 " And I houp ye'll be lang sae." 
 
 " Weel, weel, Laird," replied the lady, " ye 
 know it's all your ain doing ; tak your wull o't ; 
 it depends entirely on yoursell." 
 
288 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " On me ?" cried the Laird " My gracious ! 
 whae ever heard the equal o' that ?" Then he 
 muttered in an under tone, " If ever there was 
 a lee, that's ane." 
 
 " Lee !" said Mrs Soorocks, catching the 
 Laird's aside " Every joke's a lee o' its kind. 
 But come, help yoursell to a glass o' my old 
 wine ; for ye seem to be in an unco low key, 
 Laird. Ye see the Bailie requires neither pre- 
 cept nor example wi' his tumhler, when the 
 mercy's afore him." 
 
 For some time after this, there was a visible 
 embarrassment in the manner of all present. 
 Mrs Soorocks, however, was the ruling spirit 
 of the hour, and she presided with undismayed 
 equanimity. 
 
 After taking off his first glass, the Laird was 
 persuaded by his active hostess to a second, and 
 to a third ; but still matters looked, to use her 
 own expression, " unco dowie." She then tried 
 him on a new tack. 
 
 " Ye believe, Laird," she said, " that what- 
 ever is destined to come in at ane's door 'ill no 
 gang bye them ?" 
 
 3 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 289 
 
 " Doubtless," answered the Laird, " there is 
 nae arguing against that." 
 
 " Weel, if ye come that length, I maun just 
 tell ye my mind, that for mony and mony a 
 lang year it has aye struck me, somehow or 
 ither, that Providence, Laird, destined Miss 
 Shoosie there and you for ane anither. I'm 
 persuaded you're mair than half o' that opinion 
 yoursell ?" 
 
 " Doubtless, strange wheemsies will enter 
 intil leddies' heads," replied the Laird, turning 
 his face half away from the speaker, like one 
 half unwilling to listen to unwelcome intelli- 
 gence " It's neither your duty nor mine to 
 dive sae deep into the hidden secrets o' nature." 
 " Na, but, Laird, just hear me a moment," 
 said Mrs Soorocks, lifting up nuts from a china- 
 plate on the side-table " seeing is believing all 
 the world over. Now, ye see, if I was to take 
 a pair of these nuts, and say to mysell, there's 
 me and there's Mr Rupy, as I throwed them 
 into the fire, ye wad see the ane fizz, and flee 
 away frae the ither up the lum, or out at the 
 ribs, like a bomb-shell ; for, ye observe, it's no 
 in the course o' nature that the like o' him and 
 
290 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 me should ever come thegither ; but on the con- 
 trair sae deeply am I impressed wi' the truth 
 o* what I am saying that I could wager my 
 life maistly, that were I to put in these twa, and 
 say, as I do noo, * there goes you, Laird, and 
 there goes Miss Shoosie,' (all the time Mrs 
 Soorocks was suiting the action to the word,) 
 ye wad observe them burn to a white aizle lo- 
 vingly together." 
 
 The two nuts, according to Mrs Soorocks' 
 prediction, burned together lovingly. 
 
 " It's gay curious, I allow," said the Laird ; 
 " but dinna expect to throw cantrips in my een 
 wi' ony o' your glaumrie. Whether I take or 
 rejec, it maun be a free-will gift." 
 
 " Maist certainly," was the reply of Bailie 
 Waft ; " and from what I've seen and heard 
 aboot ye, Laird, I aye jealoused where your 
 guid taste wad land ye." 
 
 Mrs Soorocks, though sorely put to her met- 
 tle by the Laird's obduracy, yet was determi- 
 ned not to leave the well-fo tighten field without 
 gaining her point ; so, with Mr Mailings's con- 
 sent, she mixed for him a tumbler of punch, 
 " the rum of which," as she told him, " having 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 291 
 
 been procured from Cornel Archy of Greenock, 
 was of a suavity as mild as its vender." 
 
 The general jocularity was meanwhile on the 
 increase, Mrs Soorocks from time to time ur- 
 ging the gentlemen to use their freedoms with 
 her bottles, and do a little for the good of the 
 house ; and, though tardy to relax, the Laird's 
 features at length brightened up with congenial 
 sympathy. The Bailie became garrulous, and 
 hinted away from time to time to Miss Shoosie 
 on the pleasures of housekeeping. Miss Girzie 
 argued briskly with Mrs Soorocks for and against 
 the propriety of irregular and clandestine mar- 
 riages, but with a tone of concession gradually 
 softening into conciliation; while the Laird, 
 continuing to wax still more cheerful and bold, 
 boasted of his youthful sprees, and, as he snapped 
 his thumbs, sang aloud a verse of the old bal- 
 lad, 
 
 44 The carle he came ower the craft 
 Wi' his beard new shaven. " 
 
 " Na," cried Mrs Soorocks, " if it's come to 
 that wi' ye, Laird, it's time we should bring ye 
 afore a magistrate, and hae your vows honour- 
 
292 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 ably ratified. Bailie Waft, I tell ye to put him 
 to the question." 
 
 Here the Bailie rose, and endeavouring to 
 wipe the flush from his brow with his handker- 
 chief, looked as grave as the occasion would let 
 him, ,and said, " Mr Mailings, is this lady," 
 pointing to Miss Shoosie, " your wife ?" 
 
 " Ony lady's my wife," said the Laird, " that 
 will condescend to tak me." 
 
 The Bailie then turned to Miss Shoosie, 
 " Do you, madam, acknowledge this gentleman 
 for your husband ?" 
 
 " Confess, confess," cried Mrs Soorocks, 
 " and dinna spoil our ploy." 
 
 Miss Shoosie simpered, and said, " Sister, I 
 canna refuse ony langer." 
 
 Here there was a general clapping of hands, 
 and the health of Mr and Mrs Mailings was 
 drank in bumpers by all but themselves. The 
 bride acknowledged the courtesy with solemn 
 propriety, and the Laird answered with a loud 
 laugh ; but there was a ring in its sound wild 
 and sardonic. Another tumbler, however, soon 
 restored the hilarity ; and in a few minutes after, 
 
CHAPTER XXXI I. 293 
 
 supper, which Mrs Soorocks had prospectively 
 prepared for the occasion, was announced. 
 
 The fete passed over with all due humour and 
 conviviality. The Laird warmed more and more 
 towards his bride, and said many sweet things 
 across the table, as much to the amazement as 
 the amusement of the company. Bailie Waft 
 waxed eloquent in Glasgow stories, and forgot 
 himself at length so far as to lose the solemnity 
 of his official situation in jocose song-singing. 
 
 At a late, or rather an early hour, the happy 
 party arose from table, and under a moon 
 
 " Ploughing the azure depths, and looking down 
 With sanctified benignity on man," 
 
 sallied forth for The Place, the bride hanging 
 tenderly on the bridegroom's arm. 
 
 After taking off a glass of the Laird's canary, 
 to the future felicities of the enamoured couple, 
 we at length wished them a good night. The 
 Bailie and myself, talking of matrimonial com- 
 forts, conveyed Miss Girzie weeping to her now 
 solitary home. 
 
294 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 EARLY next morning I went over to Mrs 
 Soorocks, to assist her in the reveille of the 
 young couple ; but on approaching the door, she 
 chanced to observe me from the parlour win- 
 dow, and let me in herself. 
 
 " O," said she, in a voice of serious alarm, 
 " what have I no got to tell you !" 
 
 I was thunderstruck at the earnestness of her 
 exclamation, and cried, 
 
 " My gracious ! has the bridegroom run 
 away ?" 
 
 " Waur than that, waur than that; meikle 
 hae ye to answer for. Nawaubpore yestreen, 
 when we were at our daffin', blind mortals we 
 are, and little ken the perils o' our situation 
 Nawaubpore, as I was saying, sent ower his 
 London newspaper to read ; but I was so taen 
 up, that I neglecket it till this morning, and 
 what do you think was the first thing that met 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 295 
 
 my consternated eye the marriage o' Dr Loun- 
 lans, and to whom ? guess." 
 
 " I hope your suspicions have not been veri- 
 fied ?" 
 
 " Verified ! they have been dumbfounder'd. 
 He's married, and married to Miss Clawrissy 
 Chandos, the great heiress, and failing her mo- 
 ther, the rightfu' leddy o' Barenbraes. Now, 
 think o' that and weep." 
 
 " This is indeed extraordinary news !" 
 
 " It's a thunderclap," said Mrs Soorocks. 
 " It's an earthquake 1 think I fin' the world 
 shooglin beneath my verra feet. We thocht the 
 Nabob wad be an oppressor, but what has the 
 puir Laird to expect frae the hauns o' Dr Loun- 
 lans, on his mother's account ! Na I canna 
 think at a' about Mrs Mailings. Na, it was 
 never ordained that she shou'd hae been mar- 
 ried ! O, sir, what have ye no to answer 
 for !" 
 
 " Upon my word, Mrs Soorocks," replied I 
 gravely, " it has been all your own work ; I 
 have been but an innocent spectator. I took 
 no particular part in the business. You first 
 suggested it to me ; I remember very well the 
 
296 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 time and the place. It was in the avenue of 
 Auldbiggings. Me, Mrs Soorocks ! no one can 
 impute any hlame to me." 
 
 Weel ! after that," cried the lady," I'll be 
 surprised at nothing that man may say. But, 
 hoosever, I shake myself free o' them, and let 
 you and them settle it as ye may ; for I hae lang 
 promised Mrs Puncheons a visit, and I'll be aff 
 to Blythswood Place this blessed day. I de- 
 clare I dinna ken whether I'm standin' on my 
 head or my heels ; surely it's all a dream, and 
 a vision o' the night -season : Shoosie Minni- 
 gaff married ! the thing's no possible, tho' it has 
 taen place afore my ain een." 
 
 " But, my dear ma'am, let us be calm let 
 us consider what is the next best to be done." 
 
 " Consider yoursell; what have I to consider?" 
 exclaimed the lady ; " I wash my hands I have 
 had nothing to do with it from the beginning 
 to the end. They'll be a cess upon us baith 
 they'll be on the parish Oh, oh, oh !" 
 
 At this moment a knock was heard at the 
 door, and Mrs Soorocks giving a hasty glance 
 out, cried 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 297 
 
 " Whare shall I hide mysell ? here's puir 
 misfortunate Girzie." 
 
 And she immediately began to compose her- 
 self, so that by the time that dejected maiden was 
 admitted, she had mustered fortitude enough to 
 break the doleful tidings to her thus with gra- 
 vity, composure, and decorum. 
 
 " Have you had any letters by the post, Miss 
 Girzie, for I have gotten the newspapers ?" 
 
 " No," said Miss Girzie, " not this morning;" 
 dwelling, as I thought, rather emphatically on 
 this, which excited my attention. 
 
 " Your sister is a lucky woman," rejoined 
 Mrs Soorocks " a most lucky woman indeed 
 she has just been married in the verra nick o' 
 time." 
 
 " I hope she'll be happy," replied Miss Girzie, 
 composedly. 
 
 "But do ye ken what has happen'd? Dr 
 Lounlans is married." 
 
 " We expected that some time ago, you 
 ken." 
 
 " But wha has he married ?" cried Mrs Soo- 
 rocks. " No less than your niece and deadly 
 enemy, Miss Clawrissy." 
 
298 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " So we have been informed." 
 
 " Informed !" exclaimed Mrs Soorocks; " and 
 whan were ye informed ?" 
 
 " Yesterday morning by the post, in a most 
 kind letter from Dr Lounlans himself." 
 
 " And did you know of that last night? 
 Girzie Minnigaff, you and your sister have long 
 been known as twa sordid wretches ; but such 
 deception, ye deceevers, to practise on a worthy 
 gentleman ! I think it's reason enough for a 
 divorce ; at ony rate, it canna fail to bring a 
 judgment upon you. And what's to become o' 
 you, Miss Girzie ?" 
 
 " It was agreed between my sister and me, 
 that I shou'd live with her." 
 
 " What did ye say, Girzie Minnigaff?" 
 
 " It was agreed between me and my sister, 
 that I shou'd bide wi' her at Auldbiggings." 
 
 " It's a confess'd plot," cried Mrs Soorocks, 
 turning to me ; adding, " So, sir, a bonny haun 
 ye hae made o't ; the Laird's to be burthen'd 
 wi' the twa ; but bide a wee till I get my hat 
 and shawl, and I'll gang ower wi' ye, were it for 
 nae mair than to bid the misfortunate couple 
 fareweel, before I leave hame." 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 299 
 
 In a little time we had rung the Laird's door- 
 hell, and Jenny ushered us into the parlour, till 
 she had informed her master of our arrival. I 
 was afraid from the bickering which was re- 
 commencing between my two female wards, 
 that some mortal rupture was threatening to 
 take place. But at this critical juncture the 
 young couple came into the room, seemingly on 
 much better terms with one another than I had 
 ventured to expect. The lady had herself in- 
 formed him of the event, at which, instead of 
 expressing any feeling of apprehension for the 
 consequences, he was only confirmed in stronger 
 feelings of dislike against the reverend doctor, 
 vituperating the whole body of the clergy, and 
 considering the ambition of his adversary as 
 dictated by insolence, to mortify himself. 
 
 Mrs Soorocks, who had neither anticipated 
 the felicity of the new pair, nor the complacen- 
 cy with which the Laird appeared to regard his 
 lot, said, " But, Mr Mailings, tak thocht, remem- 
 ber ye're a ruin'd man ; ye hadna left yoursell 
 the means to maintean you alone, how do ye 
 think that ye can maintean other two ?" 
 
 " I have made my calculation," said he ; " I'm 
 
300 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 going into Edinburgh. I'll publish my book 
 in numbers, and mak a monthly income by 
 that. Miss Girzie's to bide wi' us, for, as my 
 dawty here says, (chucking Mrs Mailings under 
 the chin,) the house that can haud twa, can 
 haud three ; the fire that can warm four feet, 
 can warm six ; the same pot that boils for two, 
 can boil for three, so that, you see, no to be 
 entering into particulars, Miss Girzie can leeve 
 wi' us at no expense, and she'll be company to 
 her sister, when I'm in my study concern'd wi' 
 my work." 
 
 Mrs Soorocks clapt her hands together, and 
 turning up her eyes, said, with an ejaculatory 
 accent, " Who cou'd have thocht o' this !" 
 
 Breakfast was then announced, and which, 
 considering the calibre of the respective parties, 
 passed off with so much propriety, that my 
 conscience began to be a little appeased. It 
 really appeared to me that the part which I 
 had taken in the business, (for I no longer now 
 affected to deny, even to myself, that I had 
 been instrumental to the completion of the mar- 
 riage, ) was rather commendable ; so much are 
 we prone to judge of the rectitude and proprie- 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 301 
 
 ty of even our own actions by their results ; and 
 the same sentiment seemed to strike Mrs Soo- 
 rocks, for when we were returning from Auld- 
 biggings after breakfast, she whispered to me 
 
 " Weel, sir, I think we haena made sae verra 
 bad a job o't after a', only what's to become o' 
 them? we maun try what can be done by work- 
 ing on the tender mercies o' Dr Lounlans ; and 
 I hope Mrs Lounlans will be found to hae 
 bowels o' compassion ; and if she has, I'm sure 
 she'll be the first o' her kin, by the mother's 
 side o' the house, that ever had ony. Cou'd ye 
 hae ever imagined that the twa deceitfu' crea- 
 tures would hae had the sense to do as they 
 did yestreen ? I'll ne'er put trust in the coun- 
 tenance o' womankind again." 
 
 Much more of the same sort on both sides 
 passed between us till we separated, having pre- 
 viously arranged that we should watch the re- 
 turn of the Doctor, and endeavour to complete 
 our good work, by soliciting him to allow the 
 three Graces, as Mrs Soorocks called the Laird, 
 the bride, and bride's sister, to enjoy the re- 
 mainder of their days at Barenbraes. 
 
302 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ON returning to my own house, I was some- 
 what surprised to find, that during my short 
 absence, Mr Loopy, of the respectable house of 
 Loopy and Hypothec, writers in Glasgow, had 
 been calling, urgent to see me ; and had men- 
 tioned to my housekeeper, he had several places 
 in the neighbourhood to visit among others 
 Auldbiggings. 
 
 As there had been for some time a rumour 
 through the country of an expected dissolution 
 of Parliament, I was at no loss to guess, from 
 the connexions of my old friend Loopy, the 
 probable motive of his civility in calling upon 
 me, with whom he had no particular ostensible 
 business ; but I could not account for the cir- 
 cumstance of his intended visit to the Laird, 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 303 
 
 who in his political predilections had ever been 
 opposed to those of the present ministry. 
 
 Having given up the day to idleness, it oc- 
 curred to me, that perhaps I might be able to 
 intercept the worthy man of business, either on 
 his way to or from The Place, and induce him 
 to take a quiet dinner with me, for I have ever 
 found his shrewd conversation particularly racy 
 and relishing. Accordingly, after giving orders 
 for the leg of my last-killed five-year-old to be 
 dressed, I sauntered along the high way towards 
 Auldbiggings ; seeing nothing of the lawyer till 
 I was at the bottom of the avenue, where his 
 post-chaise was waiting the approach to the 
 house being in such a state with ruts and stones, 
 that the postilion did not venture to take his 
 carriage and horses to the door. 
 
 I went up to the house ; but long before I 
 reached the entrance, everything indicated that 
 there was indeed a change of administration 
 within. 
 
 Jenny Clatterpans, bare-footed and bare-leg- 
 ged, with her petticoats kilted, and her hair 
 falling in masses from under her cap, was 
 standing on a stool whitewashing the lintels of 
 
304 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the lower windows with an old hearth-brush ; 
 her whitening-pot was a handless and cripple 
 tureen. The cook, ghastly and piebald with 
 soot and whitening, was rattling with the rem- 
 nant of an old blanket in her hand, in the midst 
 of a numerous assemblage of all manner of 
 kitchen utensils, brazen sconces, pewter trench- 
 ers, that might for magnitude have been shields 
 to Ajax, copper lids of departed fish-kettles, a 
 warming-pan, damasked with holes in the lid, 
 and the handle of which had been lost beyond 
 the memory of man, a brass basting ladle, a 
 superannuated tormentor, a bright copper tea- 
 kettle, the spout of which had long become 
 loose by many scourings, but still it was the 
 pride and glory of the shelf on which it was 
 wont to stand, flanking a long array of vari- 
 ous sorts of brass candlesticks which were 
 lying on the grass around it. Beyond her, at 
 a picturesque distance, lay a mound of feather- 
 beds, pillows, and bolsters, which Jock, with- 
 out his coat, was manfully thrashing with a flail, 
 raising such a dust that he could only be seen 
 at intervals like a demon in the clouds of a 
 whirlwind. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 305 
 
 As it was impossible to think of interrupting 
 so many indications of a radical reform, I walk- 
 ed into the house, intending to go up to the old 
 gentleman's study, but the lobby was so crowd- 
 ed with old casks, tubs, and firkins, empty bot- 
 tles and boxes, that I with great difficulty made 
 my way to the foot of the stair, on which the 
 bride and her sister were endeavouring to bring 
 down a large worsted wheel, which, from the 
 death of the first Mrs Mailings, had been re- 
 moved from the kitchen, and placed upon the 
 great napery ark that stood at the stairhead, 
 being the first stage on its way to the lumber 
 garret. 
 
 Having assisted the ladies to bring this wool- 
 len mill round the turn of the stair, I at last 
 reached the room where the Laird and the Law- 
 yer were seated, engaged so earnestly in con- 
 versation, that neither of them hardly observed 
 me enter. Their topic was the impending ge- 
 neral election, and it soon appeared that Mr 
 Loopy was not canvassing for the vote, but for 
 the purchase of the superiority of Auldbiggings. 
 
 " Three hundred pounds," Mr Loopy was 
 saying as I came in, " and of money down too, 
 u 
 
306 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 no trouble but to count it it is a very large 
 sum for my client to give." 
 
 " But your client, Mr Loopy, is a capitalist, 
 and kens Loo to mak his outlay productive," 
 rejoined the Laird ; " when he bad you offer 
 me three hundred pounds, he was thinking o' 
 my agricultural distress ; but this is no sic a 
 rainy day as to cause me to sell my hen below 
 her marketable value. It's but the second, ye 
 maun ken, o* my honey moon, and when will a 
 man be croose if he's no then ? and isna my 
 wife yin o' the heirs-portioners, as ye wad ca't, 
 in law, o' the estate o' Barenbraes ? But noo 
 when I think o't, Mr Loopy, I'll no sell at a', 
 for it may be a mean hereafter to help me to 
 get a post in the government, or a cadetcy to 
 Indy for one of our younger sons Three hun- 
 der poun', Mr Loopy ! I wadna tak three thou- 
 san' : the superiority is 120 pun* scots, auld va- 
 luation, and it wadna be kittle to mak a piecing, 
 as ye weel ken hoo, that wad gie ye the poore 
 and capacity o' twa votes instead o' ane." 
 
 " But, Laird, how could I be aware of that 
 circumstance ?" replied Mr Loopy ; " however, 
 that it does make a difference, I admit, yet 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 307 
 
 you should consider that votes are falling in 
 value; for you know," and the lawyer appealed 
 to me in verification of the fact, " that the great 
 landholders in this county are splitting their 
 superiorities to the utmost extremity, and actu- 
 ally giving them away for nothing ; they are a 
 drug in the market, that is to say in a manner." 
 
 I now began to see the drift of Mr Loopy's 
 visit to the Laird, and with the more satisfac- 
 tion, as it never had occurred to any of the 
 helpless man's friends, to think of the value of 
 his vote for the county, as a means to lighten, if 
 not to avert, the misfortune with which he was 
 immediately threatened ; nor probably had it 
 ever before occurred to himself, for such was the 
 improvidence and slackness in all his affairs, that 
 nothing was ever done in them until it became 
 absolutely necessary or inevitable. 
 
 The Laird was touched on his weak side by 
 reference to the multiplication of votes tending 
 to reduce their value, and being evidently at a 
 loss for an answer, I thought it my duty to in- 
 terpose, saying, " That the making of so many 
 new votes, was only a proof that the ensuing 
 contest was expected to be a hot one, and tha 1 
 
308 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 those who kept aloof from either party, till the 
 proper time, could not fail to realize the full 
 value of their influence." 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed Mr Loopy, " it would be 
 most ahominahle, and what no honest man like 
 Mr Mailings could think of doing, to sell him- 
 self to the highest bidder and besides, the ge- 
 neral election is not expected before the fall, and 
 a vote made at this time, will, in that case, be 
 of no use, for the infeftment must run year and 
 day. But, Laird, to mak short work o't, not- 
 withstanding all these disadvantages, I think I 
 could almost promise for my client is a liberal 
 as well as a wealthy man I could almost pro- 
 mise that he might be brought to go the length 
 of five hundred pounds." 
 
 " I can say nae mair about it," replied the 
 old man, " without consulting my amiable 
 spouse, Mrs Mailings ;" and he vociferated, 
 66 T)awty, come ben the house, dawty, and help 
 me to mak a bargain wi j Mr Loopy." 
 
 The lady, however, did not immediately an- 
 swer to the summons ; her labours had dishevel- 
 led her dress, and discomposed her tempera- 
 ture ; but when she had somewhat arranged the 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 309 
 
 former, and cooled herself with a towel or 
 handkerchief, after being again called, she came 
 into the room, followed by Miss Girzie, whose 
 complexion was equally heightened by her share 
 in the toil, and her dress even still more dis- 
 arranged. 
 
 The Laird briefly stated, that Mr Loopy had 
 come to buy, if he would sell, the superiority 
 of Auldbiggings, and had offered five hundred 
 pounds. 
 
 " If he would speak about fifteen, it would 
 be mair wiselike," said the leddy, looking as- 
 kance at the lawyer, who pushed his chair back, 
 and regarded her with the utmost astonishment 
 of features, gradually relaxing into a smile ex- 
 pressive of incredulous wonder. 
 
 " Mr Mailings," he exclaimed, " oh, ye are 
 a happy man to have such a wife ; and when 
 you come to have your children round your 
 table like olive plants, she will indeed be a 
 fruitful vine !" 
 
 " Dawty," said the Laird, quite delighted to 
 hear such commendations bestowed on the lady 
 of his love, " Dawty, let us be reasonable, and 
 not rigorous." 
 
310 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " Be just before you're generous," said his 
 spouse. 
 
 " Think o* wha's to come after you," rejoin- 
 ed Miss Girzie. 
 
 " Consider your small family," cried I, " and 
 your youngson, that you intend to send to 
 India." 
 
 " Mony a laird's daughter has been waur 
 tochered than wi' her father's vote at a contest- 
 ed election, Mr Loopy," interposed the Laird 
 firmly ; " your client may tak his five hunder 
 pound and mak a playock wi' a whistle in its 
 tail, or he'll either get heft or blade o' my vote 
 for sic a trifle. Five hundred pound ! talk o' a 
 thoosan', and I'll maybe hearken wi' the hear- 
 ing side o' my head." 
 
 66 A thousand," exclaimed Mr Loopy, start 
 ing up and affecting to move towards the door, 
 " I never heard anything so unreasonable." 
 
 " Weel, weel," cried the Laird, " will ye split 
 the " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Auldbiggings," exclaim- 
 ed Mrs Mailings, " and dinna mak yoursell a 
 prodigal son ; an ye wad part wi' your patri- 
 mony in that gate, ye wad weel deserve to eat 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 311 
 
 draff wi' the swine ; na, na, a thousand pound 
 is ower little !" 
 
 " I wonder," said Mr Loopy, still standing 
 on the floor, " I wonder, Mrs Mailings, that ye 
 wadna say guineas, when ye think there's such 
 fools in the world as wad gie a thousand pound, 
 and for what ? " 
 
 " For a vote," said Miss Girzie, sedately, 
 " and ye ken the full value o't, Mr Loopy." 
 
 The leddy shook her head significantly. " I 
 thank you for your gentle hint, Mr Loopy," cried 
 she ; " and we'll no take ae farthing less than 
 a thousan' guineas." 
 
 The lawyer turned round, with a well-af- 
 fected huff, and at that moment Mrs Soorocks 
 made her appearance, puffing and blowing, cry- 
 ing out, 
 
 " I hope I'm in time, I hope ye hae na con- 
 cluded the bargain, I hope, Mrs Mailings, ye'll 
 protect your gudeman, Mr Loopy, Mr Loopy, 
 hoo could ye think after wheedling, as I hae 
 heard this morning, auld Peter Kethcart out o* 
 his bit laun, for little mair than the half o' its 
 value, to say naething o' the superiority, to come 
 fleeching here to beguile Auldbiggings ; know- 
 
312 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 ing, as ye do, Mr Loopy, that it's a the residue 
 left o' his patrimony, but, leddies, when I heard 
 he was here, I came running like a maukin, to 
 snatch you as brands out o' the burning ; for 
 he has a tongue that wad wile the bird aff the 
 tree I" 
 
 " I'm no safe here," rejoined Mr Loopy, with 
 a smile, and turning to the Laird, he added, 
 " As I was instructed by my client to go a cer- 
 tain length, if you are willing to treat with me 
 I shall be liberal; you shall have a thousand 
 pounds for the superiority down, if you choose 
 to take it ; and further I am not empowered to 
 
 go." 
 
 The Laird was evidently on the point of ac- 
 cepting the offer, when Mrs Soorocks exclaim- 
 ed,- 
 
 " The superiority o' Auldbiggings sell't for a 
 thousand pounds, that is sae weel worth double 
 the money ! Oh, Miss Shoosie, Mrs Mailings, 
 as I should ca' ye, tak that man o 9 yours into 
 your bed-room, and gie him admonition, it's 
 no for a sma' profit that my friend Mr Loopy's 
 scamperin'^frae Dan to Beersheba. " 
 
 " I certainly think," rejoined I, " that Mr 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 813 
 
 Mailings ought to have some time to consider 
 of the marketable value of his only remaining 
 property." 
 
 Here Mrs Mailings cried, 
 
 " It would be cheatry to bargain away a right 
 and property that Mr Loopy's sae ready to gie 
 a thousan* and fifty pounds for na, a thousan' 
 guineas !" 
 
 With that she turned round to the lawyer, 
 and said, with a mini mouth, and a dulcet ac- 
 cent, 
 
 " If ye'li call the morn, Mr Loopy, maybe 
 ye'll hae an answer." 
 
 66 Deed," rejoined the Laird, " it's my solid 
 opinion, that if the qualification o' Auldbig- 
 gings be worth a thousan' guineas at this time, 
 it ought, wi' discreet management, to be soon 
 worth a great deal more; because you see all 
 trade is in a state o' panic and calamity, and 
 folk will have nae other way o' making their 
 bread, than by gettin' posts in the government ; 
 so that if a vote noo be worth sae mickle, what 
 will it no be worth when mair customers for posts 
 come to deal in the market ; for you know, Mr 
 Loopy, that there's a standard o' value by which 
 
314 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the price of everything may be measured, and 
 all we want to know is, what this natural stand- 
 ard is ?" 
 
 " I doot, Mr Mailings," replied the lawyer, 
 " that, like the other political economists, ye 
 run some risk o' mistaking the elwand for the 
 cloth ; but I observe you are not in a humour 
 to deal with me to-day, so I will take Mrs Mail- 
 ings's hint." 
 
 Accordingly, he left the room, and I follow- 
 ed, to beg his company at dinner, which, how- 
 ever, he declined at first ; but seeing the con- 
 fusion in which the house of Auldbiggings was, 
 he said at the time, " Perhaps the Laird might 
 be induced to join me;" and he would look in 
 upon us in the afternoon, on his return to Glas- 
 gow. 
 
r 315 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 ON returning into the room, I found the 
 Laird alone. The ladies had retired to an inner 
 apartment, to determine, as he informed me, in 
 what manner he should deal with Mr Loopy. 
 
 " Isna my wife," said he, "a clever wife ? 
 Weel does she ken how many blue beans it taks 
 to mak five. Had I married her twenty years 
 ago, I wouldna hae needed this day to stand in 
 awe o* lawyers and naubobs, and sic like o' the 
 clanjamphry and she's sic a pleasant young 
 creature that she blithens my verra blood; I 
 couldna hae thought it possible for matrimony 
 to mak a man sae happy. It's true, I had an 
 experience before ; but then my first was a for- 
 ced marriage, whereas this, my second, has been 
 a free-will offering a* o' my ain instigation, the 
 which maks an unco difference. I didna think, 
 
316 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 when I telPt you in the garden that I would 
 fain marry Miss Shoosie Minnigaff, that I had 
 sic a sincerity o' sound affection for her, as a' 
 my friends had sae lang discovered ; but you 
 know, it is written in the word, that we do not 
 know ourselves ; and behold, I am a living il- 
 lustration of the text. However, anent the 
 thoosan' pounds for the superiority, what's your 
 opinion ?" 
 
 I told him that I considered it a great god- 
 send ; but remarked, that, as it was not sufficient 
 to procure for him any effectual relief from 
 his mortgages, it would be much better to give 
 up the estate at once to the Nabob, and buy an 
 annuity with the money on the joint lives of him- 
 self and Mrs Mailings. 
 
 " Had we no a prospect of a family, what ye 
 counsel would be worth hearkening to." 
 
 " I doubt, Laird, that's but a barren prospect ; 
 and, besides, you ought to consider the great 
 wickedness of augmenting our national distress, 
 by increasing the population of the country, al- 
 ready so redundant. I beseech you, Mr Mail- 
 ings, to respect the admonitions of economical 
 philosophy." 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 317 
 
 " Hoots, hoots dinna talk sic Malthusian 
 havers to me. The cause o' our national decay, 
 and agricultural distress, broken merchants, ra- 
 velled manufacturers, and brittle bankers, come 
 a'thegither frae another well-ee. Were sic ca- 
 lamities ever heard o* in this reawlm before 
 the turnip farming came into vogue ? Answer 
 me that. Weel do I mind that it was in" the 
 ha'rst o' that verra year, when the first peck o* 
 turnips was sawn in the shire, that the sough 
 came through the kintra o' the Ayr bank gaun 
 to pigs and whistles. My auntie, wha was then 
 in the Ian* o' the livin', and has since been sleep- 
 ing in Abraham's bosom, wi' the rest o 1 the pa- 
 triarchs, said, on that melancholious occasion 
 and she was a judicious woman that to gar 
 sheep and kye crunch turnips, was contrary to 
 nature, their teeth being made for grass and 
 kail-blades ; and that it would be seen, that the 
 making o' turnip-pastures would prove a sign 
 o' something. Never did I forgether words o' 
 warning, though I was then but a bairn, a very 
 babe and suckling, in a sense ; and I hae no- 
 ted, year by year, that her prophecy has been 
 mair and mair coming to pass ; for, with the in- 
 
318 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 growth o' turnip-farming, there has aye been a 
 corresponding smash erie amang the looms and 
 sugar-hoggits. Last year, I was in a terror for 
 what was to happen, when I saw sae mony braw 
 parks that used to be ploughed for vittle to man, 
 sawn for fodder to beasts." 
 
 " Your story, Laird," said I, " well deserves 
 the attention of his Majesty's Ministers ; for 
 some of them, in my opinion, have been finding 
 similar effects, as legitimately descended from 
 causes equally proximate. But if turnip-fields 
 were sown with corn, would the distress be 
 abated?" 
 
 " How can ye misdoot it ? and the redun- 
 dant population would be abated too, for, as 
 they baith came in wi* the turnips, wouldna 
 they gang out wi' them ? Isna that a truth o' 
 political economy ?" 
 
 At this crisis the ladies returned into the room, 
 and the Laird addressing himself to his wife, 
 said, 
 
 " Weel, dawty, hoo hae ye settled the govern- 
 ment anent the price o' the superiority ?" 
 
 " We hae disposed o' it a' to the best advan- 
 tage," interposed Mrs Soorocks ; " and ye need- 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 319 
 
 na trouble your head about it We'll get Mr 
 Loopy to lay out the money for he's a clever 
 man in his line on a life-rent for you and Mrs 
 Mailings ; and ye'll gang intil Enbro', and live 
 comfortable, like twa patriarchs. There, Laird, 
 ye may spend the evening o j your days in lown 
 felicity ; and hammergaw frae morning to night 
 wi' the advocates about corn laws and circula- 
 ting middims ; and my frien' Bailie Blackwood, 
 he has a great respec for me he'll, on my ac- 
 count, let you write in the Magazine for your 
 amusement." 
 
 " Devil's in that woman," muttered the Laird 
 aside " She's a torment to me, and to every 
 other body. But, dawty," he subjoined aloud 
 to his lady, " I hae a plan far better than the 
 veesions o' life-rents that Mrs Soorocks would 
 be-glammar us a' wi' this godsend o' the thou- 
 san' pounds " 
 
 " Thousan' pounds !" exclaimed all the ladies 
 with one voice " Ye'll surely never tak a far- 
 ding less than the twa thousan' ?" 
 
 " For which," continued Mrs Mailings sola, 
 " Mrs Soorocks tells me we may get mair than 
 two hunner and fifty pounds a-year, paid down 
 
320 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 in bank-notes, without ony stress o' law, and 
 wouldna that be a grand thing ?" 
 
 " But if the banks break," cried the Laird. 
 
 " If the lift fa's, it'll smoor the laverocks," 
 retorted Mrs Soorocks ; at ,which the Laird 
 bounced from his seat, and giving a stamp with 
 his foot, exclaimed, 
 
 " I'll be master in my own house I'll be 
 ruled by naebody I'll hae a will o' my own ; 
 and I will The devil's in't, if a man o' my sub- 
 stance is to be snuled in this gait." 
 
 He then turned round to his wife, and said, 
 in a softened accent, 
 
 " Dinna be frightened, dawty I'm no in a 
 pashon wi' you, but ye'll let me hae my ain 
 way." 
 
 " And what's that way ?" inquired dawty, in 
 a tone which did not indicate an entire acquies- 
 cence in the doctrine of passive obedience. 
 
 " I've had a notion," said the Laird, address- 
 ing himself to me, " that there's a mine o' cop- 
 per ore aneath the whinny-knowes ; and don't 
 you think it would be very advisable for me to 
 work it, and pay off the wadsets wi' the profits?" 
 
 I participated in the alarm and consternation 
 
CHAl'TEH XXXV. 321 
 
 of the ladies at the propounding of such a scheme. 
 Miss Girzic clasped her hands in agony, and 
 sat in a supplicating posture. Her sister stood 
 erect, many inches taller than her wont, with 
 her arms extended, and her fingers spread out 
 like the leaves of the palmetto; while Mrs Soor- 
 ocks burst into an immoderate fit of laughing, 
 exclaiming, " Did ye ever hear sic a goose wi' 
 a golden egg ? a copper mine ! I wonder, when 
 ye were at it, that ye didna dream o' a Potosi." 
 
 " Weel, weel," said the Laird, nettled at the 
 effect he had produced, " mak a kirk and a mill 
 o't; but my plans will get justice some day." 
 
 At this juncture, a rattling voice on the stair 
 drew off our attention from the matter in de- 
 bate ; and Jock, with his flail over his shoulder, 
 and covered with feathers, as if he had been in 
 a snow-storm, rushed into the room, crying, 
 
 " Odsake, odsake, here's ane o' the Minister's 
 lasses, wi' news that'll freeze your verra marrow. 
 The minister's come hame wi' his bridal-wife ; 
 and they're awa in a cotch o' their ain set a 
 Minister up wi' his ain cotch to had the infare 
 at Barenbraes Leddies leddies oh, my led- 
 dy madam mistress, he'll tak possession o' the 
 
322 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 house and heritage and what's far waur, here's 
 likewise the Nawbob in a' his glory, comin' nae 
 doot to drive you and the Laird, like Adam and 
 Eve, out o' this pleasant paradise and garden o' 
 Eden, that it might be, for the sma' cost o' a lit- 
 tle reparation." 
 
 Mrs Soorocks was the first who broke silence 
 after this portentous announcement. Address- 
 ing herself to the ladies, she said, 
 
 " Weel, cousins, havena ye found at last the 
 true prophecy o' my words ?" 
 
 u Cousins !" said I to Mrs Soorocks ; " you 
 told me they were only distant connexions ?" 
 
 " But near aneugh," replied she actively, 
 " to hae been a cess upon me, had I no got them 
 otherwise provided for ; and I thank you, sir, 
 for the helping-hand ye hae been to me in the 
 work." 
 
 I felt much inclined to exclaim with the Laird, 
 " Devil's in that woman, she's a torment to me 
 and to every other body ;" but the sound of the 
 Nabob's voice, as he forced his way up through 
 the chaos of chattels, with which the staircase 
 was encumbered, arrested the imprecation. 
 
I. 323 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE Nabob came in with well-acted jocu- 
 larity, and, totally regardless of his sulky re- 
 ception, began to rally the Laird on his spirit 
 in choosing so young and so blooming a bride. 
 Nor was he less lavish of his compliments on the 
 lady. On Mrs Soorocks, to whom he justly 
 ascribed the entire merit of having designed and 
 accomplished the match, his commendations 
 were without end ; nevertheless, in all this bus- 
 tle of boisterous gesticulation, it was soon evi- 
 dent, that he had come for some other purpose 
 than to felicitate the happy pair. 
 
 After the first rush and froth of his merriment 
 had subsided, or run to waste, he began with his 
 characteristic straight-forwardness, seemingly 
 unconscious of the abruptness of the transac- 
 
324 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 tion, to state, he had been informed that Mi- 
 Loopy was buying up the superiorities of sun- 
 dry small parcels of land, with the design, as 
 it was conjectured, of uniting them together, 
 so as to enable him to dispose of qualifications 
 for the county election. " And I hear, Mr 
 Mailings," said he, " that the snaky rascal 
 has been with you. Have you sold yours? 
 if you have, recollect the purchase-money is 
 mine." 
 
 " We'll hae twa words about that," replied 
 the Laird dryly. 
 
 " Is not my security over all the estate ?" 
 
 " Deed is't; it's o'er the whole tot o' the 
 Ian' but I may say, in the words of a reform in 
 Parliament * the whole land, and nothing but 
 the land."' 
 
 " If that be the case," cried the Nabob, 
 piqued, " and that the superiority may be sold 
 by itself, I think you ought to have given me 
 the first offer. A man has but the half of his 
 estate, when he has not all the rights belonging 
 to it." 
 
 " And for what should we hae gi'en you the 
 
UIAPTER XXXVI. 325 
 
 first offer ?" exclaimed Jock with indignation, 
 as he still stood in the middle of the room, 
 feathered, cap-a-pie, and with his flail shoul- 
 dered. 
 
 The Nabob looked with a tygerlike scowl ; and 
 going sedately towards him, seized him calmly by 
 the collar, and walking him to the door, push- 
 ed him headlong out, tartly applying his foot, 
 at the same moment, to the seat of Jock's ho- 
 nour. But Jock was not to be so touched with 
 impunity. In the instant of his expulsion, he 
 ran after Mr Loopy, and watching him just as 
 he was stepping into the chaise, which was wait- 
 ing at the avenue gate, he worked upon him to 
 return. 
 
 " I take you a' to witness, leddies and gen- 
 tlemen," cried Jock, as he returned with his 
 man of business ; " I take every ane o' you to 
 witness anent my bottomrie. There's the panel 
 that did the deed, Mr Loopy deal with him, 
 as he has written on the brod at the corner o' 
 his planting e according to the utmost rigour 
 of law.' I'll be even wi' you noo, Nawaubpore, 
 for a' the dule and sorrow that you and cleipy 
 
326 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 Caption would sigh and wallywae about, for 
 the bit clink I gi'ed wi' a harmless fishingrod to 
 John Angle's brazen whirligig." 
 
 Whether Jock had informed Mr Loopy of 
 the immediate cause of quarrel, as he brought 
 him back to the house, did not appear by any- 
 thing in the manner of the lawyer ; but after 
 some altercation, partly in good-humour, and 
 partly sparringly, the assault which poor Jock 
 had suffered was forgotten, and the man of 
 business, with an equivocal deviation from the 
 fact, reminded the Laird that he promised to 
 sell the superiority to him ; warning him to be- 
 ware of dealing with any other. 
 
 " Hooly, hooly," cried the Laird; " ye ken, 
 Mr Loopy, that if, for ceeveelity, I maunna, in 
 my ain house, ca' that a lee, it would be the next 
 thing till't, to say it wasna like ane. But since 
 we hae gotten twa candidates on the leet, I'll 
 play even-down justice wi' you baith A thoo- 
 san* pounds sterling for the superiority o' Auld- 
 biggings wha bids mair ?" 
 
 " Eleven hundred," cried Mrs Soorocks. 
 
 Mr Loopy looked at her, and raising his out" 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 327 
 
 spread hands in mirthful amazement, said, with 
 more sincerity, however, than he intended 
 should be discovered, " And what would Mrs 
 Soorocks do with a superiority ?" 
 
 " Sell't to you for an advantage," replied the 
 lady with a significant nod, and a smile to me. 
 
 " Eleven hundred pounds sterling for the su- 
 periority of Auldbiggings," resumed the Laird 
 " wha bids mair ?" 
 
 " Twelve hundred," said the Nabob with a 
 perplexed and embarrassed look, as if he was 
 not quite aware of the consequences of the bid- 
 ding. 
 
 " Mr Rupees, are ye really in earnest ?" 
 said the lawyer, with a slight inflexion of the 
 voice, almost in the key of alarm. 
 
 " I'll bid thirteen hundred," said Miss Girzie, 
 with a giggle ; " for I hae heard o' a vote selFt 
 for more than seventeen hundred pounds." 
 
 " Thirteen hundred pounds for the superi- 
 ority of Auldbiggings going for thirteen hun- 
 dred pounds" resumed the Laird, drawing his 
 chair towards the table, and striking it with 
 his snuff-box for a hammer. 
 
328 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 u Nay, if ye' re making a diversion o%" said 
 the lawyer, " I may as well give a bode too- 
 so I say fourteen hundred, Mr Mailings but 
 mind I have no intention of standing to the 
 bargain." 
 
 " The devil !" exclaimed the Nabob; " then 
 I say fifteen hundred, Mr Mailings, and I in- 
 tend to stand by the offer." 
 
 " Do as you like, Nawaubpore," interposed 
 Mrs Soorocks ; " but, Laird, if ye get a better, 
 ye're free to take it ; so I say saxteen hundred, 
 Mr Mailings, and I intend to stand to the 
 offer." 
 
 Mr Loopy was every moment plainly beco- 
 ming more and more excited ; he endeavoured to 
 appear calm and to smile, but his eyes were 
 eager and restless, and his nether lip quivered. 
 " This," said he, " is the most extraordinary 
 proceeding I ever witnessed. Surely, Mrs Soo- 
 rocks, you can have no intention of buying ; and, 
 Mr Rupees, you could never think of giving 
 any such money ?" 
 
 " Sixteen hundred pounds sterling for the 
 superiority of Auldbiggings ! once" shouted 
 the Laird, chuckling with delight. 
 
t IIAPTER XXXVI. * 329 
 
 " I beg, Mr Mailings," cried the lawyer, 
 " that you would allow me to say one word." 
 
 " Sixteen hundred pounds sterling for the 
 superiority of Auldbiggings mind, Mr Loopy, 
 it's pounds sterling," was, however, all the 
 answer he got. 
 
 " Seventeen hundred, and be damned to it !" 
 roared the Nabob. 
 
 " Remember, Mr Mailings," interposed the 
 the lawyer, in professional expostulation, " re- 
 member, you have no license to sell by public 
 roiip or auction." 
 
 " Seventeen hundred pounds sterling, Mr 
 Loopy, for the superiority o' Auldbiggings 
 will ye gi'e me another bode ?" was the Laird's 
 reply ; and rubbing his hands in ecstasy, he add- 
 ed, u Seventeen hundred pounds, once seven- 
 teen hundred pounds, twice going, Mr Loopy 
 going." 
 
 " I know all this is but a joke," rejoined the 
 lawyer, " and to humour you I'll go the length 
 of eighteen hundred." 
 
 " And just for the joke too," said Mrs Soo- 
 rooks, " I'll bid nineteen hundred, Mr Loopy." 
 
330 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " I think," cried Jock with a guffaw like a 
 cataract, " that it's cheap at twa thoosan'." 
 
 " I'll give the money for it, Laird," growled 
 the Nabob, " and end this foolish competi- 
 tion." 
 
 " Many a droll sight and sale have I seen," 
 said Mr Loopy ; " but never one like this. 
 Mr Rupees, are you in your senses ?" 
 
 " If you are," was the emphatic answer. 
 
 The lawyer made no farther observations, 
 but turning to the Laird, said, in an accent which 
 could not be misunderstood " Then I bid an- 
 other hundred." 
 
 From that the contest lay between him and 
 the Nabob, till their respective offers reached 
 six-and-twenty hundred pounds. 
 
 " Going, once going, twice !" shouted the 
 Laird. 
 
 " Another fifty," said Mrs Soorocks quietly, 
 but slyly. 
 
 " We're all mad," said the lawyer. 
 
 " Twa thoosan' sax hun'er and fifty pounds 
 sterling," said the Laird. " Mak it guineas, 
 Mr Loopy, and the bargain's yours." 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 331 
 
 " Guineas be't," exclaimed the Lawyer ; and 
 in the same moment, the Laird struck the 
 table, and roared out, u Thrice." The ladies all 
 screamed and rushed upon him, while the Na- 
 bob made the house quake with his stump ; but 
 Jock, flourishing the flail in triumph, smashed 
 a looking-glass into a hundred pieces, and fled. 
 
332 THE LAST OF THE LA1RI>S. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 WHEN order was restored, the lawyer took 
 out his pocket-hook, and drew from it a ready 
 prepared minute of an agreement for the pur- 
 chase, with a blank in it for the money. He 
 then went to the mantlepiece, where an ink- 
 stand with pens stood, and taking one of the 
 pens, looked at it between him and the light, 
 and afterwards touched it with the tip of his 
 tongue. 
 
 " You are a noble hand at auctioneering, 
 Laird," said he, as he spread the paper on the 
 table. When he had filled up the blank, he laid 
 it before the Laird, who, in taking the pen, turn- 
 ed and addressed his wife, " Isna this, dawty, 
 a gran' hansell to our marriage ?" 
 
 " Nawaubpore," said Mrs Soorocks, " ye hae 
 lost a gude bargain." 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 333 
 
 The great man made her, however, no answer, 
 but inquired, with more energy than the ques- 
 tion required, if I thought the sale valid. 
 
 I excused myself from giving any opinion, by 
 reminding him that I was no lawyer, upon which 
 he wheeled abruptly, and without the courtesy of 
 leave-taking, quitted the room ; and the lawyer 
 soon after, having finished his contract, also re- 
 tired ; and although I had come on purpose, I 
 neglected to ask him to dinner as I had intend- 
 ed. Indeed, the sudden change which had thus 
 taken place in the condition of the Laird, was 
 so extraordinary, that it engrossed my whole 
 mind ; nor was the good fortune which so crown- 
 ed his marriage confined that day to the success- 
 ful sale of the barren superiority. Before the 
 lawyer had left us many minutes, and while Mrs 
 Soorocks was with indisputable justice lauding 
 herself for the part she had played in the bid- 
 dings, the arrival of Dr and Mrs Lounlans was 
 announced. 
 
 The Laircfs complexion changed at the name 
 to the ashy paleness of fear and aversion. 
 
 " What's brought them here," cried he, " the 
 cheatrie dominie ! Is't no ancugh that he has 
 
334 THE LAST OF THE LAIIIDS. 
 
 rookit my wife and my gude-sister out o' their 
 father's heritage, but he maun come in triumph- 
 ing chariots to trample us in the mire ? It's a 
 bonny pass the world's come to the heiress of 
 a house like Barenbraes, and the dochter o' a 
 bauronet, to marry a dominie ! No wonder that 
 our auncient gentry are so fast weedit awa like 
 cumberers o' the ground." 
 
 " Wheesht, wheesht, Laird," said Mrs Soor- 
 ocks " Harken they're on the stair." 
 
 " I'll gar ding the door in their faces," ex- 
 claimed the indignant Malachi ; but before he 
 had time to put his threat in force, the Doctor 
 entered, with his lady leaning on his arm. 
 
 The effect of this apparition for, by its im- 
 mediate impression, it may as such be described 
 was instantaneous. Miss Girzie sat with her 
 hands elevated, and her elbows pressing against 
 her sides. Mrs Mailings, with more self-pos- 
 session, went forward to receive the strangers ; 
 Mrs Soorocks, who was seated beyond Miss 
 Girzie, stretched forth her neck, and inspected 
 the young lady with sharp and jealous eyes, her 
 most peculiar and characteristic features ; and 
 the Laird sat twirling his thumbs, as if resolved 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI T. 335 
 
 to take no heed whatever of his visitors. Every 
 moment, however, he stole a glance at them ; 
 and in so doing, slackened his twirling, and then 
 as often resumed it with redoubled vigour. 
 But the appearance of Mrs Lounlans was cal- 
 culated to conciliate a kinder reception. 
 
 She was one of those unaffected and prepos- 
 sessing young ladies, who, without any particu- 
 lar personal endowment, wear an air of so much 
 good sense and natural gracefulness about them, 
 as to attract confidence and esteem at the first 
 sight. When she withdrew her arm from her 
 husband's, and came forward to meet her aunt, 
 Miss Girzie rose, and Mrs Soorocks put on a 
 countenance of ineffable benignity. 
 
 Doctor Lounlans having introduced the ladies 
 to one another, turned to the Laird, and said, 
 " Our next friend here is Mr Mailings." 
 
 " They're a' friens that are na faes," was the 
 answer; the sullen respondent endeavouring to 
 sit erectly dignified, twirling his thumbs with 
 accelerated velocity. Mrs Lounlans had evi- 
 dently, however, been prepared for an uncouth 
 reception ; and being none dismayed by his un- 
 gracious mood and repulsive manner, lifted one 
 
336 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 of his hands, and with much conciliation of 
 accent, felicitated herself on being numbered 
 among his relations. " My mother too," she 
 added, " whom we have set down at my aunt's 
 for we expected to have* found them at home 
 was happy to hear of what has taken place, 
 for she recollects you as one of her early friends." 
 
 The Laird was subdued by the gentleness of 
 this address, and looked up with a smile, half 
 indicative of pleasure and of incredulity, while 
 Mrs Soorocks said to the Doctor, 
 
 " And is't possible that Leddy Chandos has 
 ta'en actual possession ?" and she added with 
 a significant sigh, " Oh, Miss Girzie !" 
 
 The Doctor replied, with more archness than 
 belonged to his grave and habitual equanimity, 
 " You know, Mrs Soorocks, that the estate is 
 entailed, and that Lady Chandos is the elder 
 sister." But observing that the sisters misun- 
 derstood him, he addressed himself to them, 
 saying, 
 
 " Her ladyship waits impatiently to see you. 
 Tired with her journey, and deeply affected with 
 the many tender reminiscences of youth and 
 
 childhood, which every object in the scene of 
 i 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 337 
 
 I he early pleasures has revived, she found her- 
 self unable to come with us." 
 
 By this time, Mrs Lounlans had so far ingra- 
 tiated herself with the Laird, that he drew a 
 chair towards his own, and requested her to sit 
 down beside him. 
 
 " Dawty," said he to his wife, " I think she 
 has a cast o' thee ; but it will be late in the day 
 before she'll can compare." 
 
 Mrs Soorocks here again addressed the Doc- 
 tor, inquiring if Lady Chandos was come " to 
 spend her auld days among her forefathers ?" 
 adding, " but I needna be surprised at it, for 
 she was aye a sweet sentimental lassie, a perfect 
 Clarissy Harlowe, though I maun say, it's no 
 verra like a heroine in a novel to come and take 
 possession 'Deed, Miss Girzie, I feel for you. 
 It's just like the cuckoo dabbing a wallydraigle 
 out o' the nest ; but I'll reason wi' her." 
 
 " Give yourself no uneasiness on that head," 
 replied the Doctor ; " for to remove all anxiety 
 from her sisters, she has settled the house and 
 property on them during her life She could do 
 
338 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 " But when she dies ?" said the anxious and 
 affectionate lady. The Doctor smiled, and then 
 told her, that Mrs Lounlans had, before their 
 marriage, confirmed and extended the settle- 
 ment for her life also. 
 
 " Noo, that's Christianity, Doctor," and she 
 justly commended the delicacy with which the 
 settlement had been made, ascribing it all to his 
 influence and advice. 
 
[ 339 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE Nabob, though a vain and ambitious, 
 was by no means an unprincipled man, and 
 when the identity of his ward was fully made 
 out, he set himself seriously to render him all 
 due restitution and fair play. The expense, how- 
 ever, in which he had unfortunately allowed him- 
 self to indulge since his return from the East, did 
 not admit of his doing this with any comfort to 
 himself, without unavoidably trenching on the 
 jcomfbrtsof the poor Laird. In a short time notice 
 was conveyed to Malachi, in as delicate a man- 
 ner as might be, that he must prepare, as speedily 
 as possible, to leave the home of his ancestors. 
 
 Perhaps none of the human feelings are more 
 .extensive or powerful in their operation than 
 local associations ; for early remembrances of the 
 fields wherein we roamed the school wherein 
 
340 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 we were tutored, and maybe flogged the river 
 wherein we bathed, waded, or fished the cherry- 
 trees whose unripe fruit we plundered the "old 
 familiar faces," that frequented parlour or hall 
 the dog which we were wont to caress and the 
 room wherein we slept, form in progress of time 
 almost a part of our very existence, and find a 
 chord that answers to their thrill, alike in the 
 bosom of the cultivated and philosophic, as in 
 the simple and untutored. 
 
 That to the Laird nature had not been prodi- 
 gal of her intellectual favours, it were vain to 
 deny ; and that a long course of indulgence in 
 the caprices, which his statio n permitted himto 
 exercise, had blunted moral perceptions which 
 never were particularly vivid, admits not of a 
 doubt ; yet even with his inveterate selfishness 
 was occasionally mixed up a spice of the more 
 ennobling ingredients of the human constitution. 
 Though prepared by the storm which he had 
 long felt brewing around him, for its some day, 
 and that not far distant, breaking on his head, 
 yet the tidings that he must leave Auldbiggings 
 came to him like a sentence of death to the crimi- 
 nal, who through the investigation of his crimes 
 
niAPTKu xxxviii. :U I 
 
 still perceives a loophole or two, by which the 
 sunshine of mercy may possibly descend on his 
 fated head. But we must to action and a 
 truce to sentimentality, and " the influence of 
 local attachment," which we leave in the com- 
 petent hands of the Reverend Mr Polwhele. 
 
 The Laird and I were taking a saunter about 
 his premises ; and, observing the downcast, 
 peevish melancholy of the old man, I lent in a 
 word or two, by way of soothing encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 " As Mrs Soorocks justly observed," said I 
 
 " Hang Mrs Soorocks !" interrupted the Laird 
 pettishly ; " I dinna want to hear ony thing about 
 her, or ony o* the like ten-fingered intermeddlers. 
 What signifies a' that Mrs Soorocks has said or 
 done, or can say or do, when I maun leave my 
 auncient inheritance of Auldbiggings, and be 
 driven out an auld broken-doun man wi' grey 
 hair into a wicked warld, without kenning 
 where I am to find a hame, or where, I should 
 rather say, I am to look for a grave to lay my 
 banes in for that date will no be lang !" 
 
 " You take a black view of matters, Laird," 
 said I, throwing as much cheerfulness into my 
 
342 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 voice, as my really touched feelings would per- 
 mit. " What signifies it, if we have a snug roof 
 to cover us, where we lodge ? We have no abi- 
 ding-place here, Laird." 
 
 " Abiding-place here, or abiding-place there, 
 hoo can ye deave me wi j sic havers, as trying 
 to convince me, that ane shuldna have a regard 
 for the place where they were born, and bred, 
 and brought up ! Do ye see that saugh-tree at 
 the corner o* the avenue ? I planted that fifty 
 year ago wi' my ain hand ; I dibbled the yearth, 
 and stappit it in there, a thing no half as lang 
 as this walking-staff ; and now it towers ower 
 our heads by a hunder feet, and the birds o* 
 heevan bigg their nests amang its branches. . I 
 wadna touch that tree, come o't what wad tho* 
 it was to buy a coat to my back ; but feint a hair 
 will strangers ken or care about the like o' that ; 
 and it will maybe be sawn down next week, to 
 gie the new-comers a veesy in that airt, towards 
 that cursed Nawaubpore house o' theirs." 
 
 Trying to divert his mind from the train of 
 feelings, which had taken possession of it with 
 more than ordinary force, I asked him, " if he 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 343 
 
 intended that forenoon returning the visit of 
 Dr and Mrs Lounlans." 
 
 " Deed wad I," answered he, " for I freely 
 confess, he has behaved in a way I wad hae 
 given him little credit for acting in towards Mrs 
 Mailings and her sister. Yes, yes, I'll no be 
 sae thrawn as to deny he's having been kinder 
 to me and mine, than we had ony reason to ex- 
 pect ; but woe's the day for Auldbiggings, and a 
 puir pass has the like o'a house such as ours come 
 to which in its time has feasted half the lords 
 and leddies in the land when we are reduced 
 to accept of a godsend from the like o' sic hands 
 as those of auld Jock Lounlans' son, that I was 
 ance obliged to roup out o' house and hall, for 
 not having left the needful to pay his just and 
 lawful debts." 
 
 " Oh, but, Laird," said I, glad of any way by 
 which I might break in upon his heavy thoughts, 
 " ye surely cannot be displeased with him for 
 repaying evil with good?" 
 
 " Evil wi' good !" exclaimed the Laird, stand- 
 ing still, and looking me in the face, leaning 
 forward on his staff as he propped his back 
 with his left hand, " and have yc turned against 
 
344- THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 me in my hour of adversity like all the rest, or 
 hoo come ye to affront an auld man like me in 
 the very whirlpool o* my calamities. I dinna 
 gie a curse for Dr Lounlans, as they ca* him 
 set him up wi' Doctor ! nor ony o' his kith, kin, 
 or generation, bodies that wad have been glad 
 of a nievefu' out o* my faither's kitchen meal- 
 ark. But them that were glad to find a way 
 into Auldbiggings by the back door lang ago, 
 now venture proudly up its front steps in broad 
 daylight, and ring our door bell, as if they had 
 been born and bred gentlemen. But what are 
 we standing palavering here for ? Let us away 
 into the house, for it will no be lang that I'll 
 hae a house, so to speak." 
 
 When we entered the lobby, the Laird took 
 off his hat the unique article of dress, already 
 described and as he hung it up on one of a 
 range of wooden pins, the extremities of which 
 were quaintly carved into something grotesque- 
 ly resembling cats' faces, he seized hold of me 
 by the sleeve, and said, " Hech-how, for sixty 
 year ay, sixty year, and mair siller, I have 
 hung up my hat on that dividual same pin. 
 That was aye called my pin naebody that kent 
 
i ii AWL it xxxv 1 1 j. 345 
 
 it \vad hae been sae forrit-some and impudent 
 as to have made use of that piece o' wood for 
 their hats, kenning that I reserved it for my ain 
 peculiar use. If, whan I cam in, I fand anither 
 hinging there let it have been headpiece o' 
 gentle or semple, nae matter I just scuffed it 
 doun wi' the head o' my staff, and left Jock to 
 lift it up at his leisure, as he liket. Naebody 
 daured to have used such liberty in Jock's pre- 
 sence. But ye'll stop and tak a check o* din- 
 ner with me, as it's now wearing on to dining 
 hours ?" 
 
 I endeavoured to make the best excuse I 
 could, and pleaded an engagement at home. 
 
 " Deed and ye'll no stir a fit the day out o' 
 this place, without tasting o' the hospitality o' 
 Auldbiggings ; I'll likely never can ask ye 
 again, and though I'm pressing ye the day, it's 
 maybe we'll no have ony great thing to offer 
 ye." 
 
 Jock here appeared with a towel below his 
 arm, threading a transverse passage. " Hollo, 
 Jock, I say," cried the Laird, " can we gie a 
 stranger his dinner wi* us the day ?" 
 
 " Brawly," answered Jock, rubbing down 
 
346 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 his towsy head with the flat of his hand ; " that 
 is a question to be after spearing, maister no 
 only this day, but ony day of the year, from 
 June to Januar, I houp." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear't, Jock," said Auldbig- 
 gings, with a smile half natural and half sar- 
 donic, in which pride and regret seemed equal- 
 ly mingled ; " have ye killed the auld bubbly- 
 jock, as ye threatened this morning ?" 
 
 " Killed him, ay, and wad have killed him 
 an he had twenty lives, afore I wad have left 
 him to gang snoitering away wi' his coulter, 
 and his big umbrella of a tail, parading afore 
 the window of ony stranger, that wad hae im- 
 pudence eneuch to set fit within bounds, that 
 have descended to us from of auld, and that are 
 ours yet, stick and stane, by all the rules o* 
 law and gospel." 
 
 " Aha, Jock," cried the Laird, acting the 
 hero in his valet's presence, " right now-a-days 
 is might, and c tramp* is the word; we maun bow 
 before our betters our betters ! the thing most- 
 ly sticks in my throat but it's a' ae woo 
 * tramp's the word, Jock. But what for," add- 
 ed he, turning to me, " are we standing here, 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 347 
 
 condescending to hold a confab wi' a jackanapes 
 of a servant? Haiste yere ways, Jock, but the 
 house to the scullery, and get yere knives clean- 
 ed. We canna take them wi' us to sican a braw 
 toun as Edinburgh, all spatted with red rust. 
 But holt, Jock, look up to the clock in the stair, 
 and tell me exactly what a clock it is." 
 
 Jock ran up a few steps, and, shading his 
 eyes with his hand, answered, not without a 
 scrutiny of the horologe, which showed he was 
 not particularly an adept at noting the record- 
 ed flight of time, " It wants, I think, maister, 
 only nine minutes of three nine, did I say ? 
 troth, I daursay it only wants seven." 
 
 The Laird had at the same instant drawn 
 from his fob a massy structure of embossed 
 gold, whose face, chequered with Saxon figu- 
 ring, proclaimed it a work not of this age, but 
 probably the descended heir-loom of some long 
 deceased progenitor, which had come to the 
 Laird in the regular line of inheritance. " Now 
 isn't a curious thing," said he to me, " and 
 Jock there can bear witness to the fact, that 
 this watch has gane like a regulawter for 
 thirty year, without ever needing a touch in 
 
348 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 the bandies? Nine minutes, did ye say, Jock? 
 troth, wi' me it wants only seven. Where will 
 ye find a piece of warkmanship like that now-a- 
 days ? But haiste yere ways to the parlour, for 
 Dawtie will be wondering we are sae lang in 
 coming in from our pleasant out-o'-doors ex- 
 cursion." 
 
 On coming away early in the evening, as 
 Jock was chaperoning me down stairs, he gave 
 a sly look, first up to the clock, and then in my 
 face. I perceived there was something in the 
 creature's noddle, so, as he was handing me my 
 hat in the lobby, I said to him, " Jock, yon is 
 surely a capital old watch of your maister's. 
 He tells me you wind it up for him regularly. 
 Has it never gone wrong for thirty years ?" 
 
 " Thirty years," said Jock, with a loud guf- 
 faw, as he gave his hand a slap on his thigh 
 " Thirty year ! say ye ? that beats cock-feight- 
 ing ; the auld turnip wadna gang thirty hours 
 without losing a quarter, less or mair. But I 
 aye tak it out cannily frae aneath his head every 
 morning, and set it to a moment. I wish ye 
 a good night, sir; tak care o' your feet on the 
 outer staps." 
 
[ 349 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 PERHAPS if the faithful Jock had heard re- 
 peated the thousand-and-one appellations of his 
 Majesty of the Celestial Empire, he might have 
 been for a moment disturbed in the calm assu- 
 rance of those thoughts, which reposed in his 
 master, as indisputably the greatest of mankind ; 
 but certainly none other could have had the 
 smallest chance in the competitorship, as we 
 before have taken occasion to observe. Jock's 
 ideas of terrestrial pomp, pride, and ambition, 
 were grievously hampered in within the bounds 
 of his native parish, in which the family of Auld- 
 biggings, as he had heard his father and his 
 grandfather asseverate, were in the old times a 
 sort of petty despots in their day, " ruling the 
 country from Dan to Beersheba," as Jock ex- 
 pressed it, " like a wheen Solomons, and suf- 
 
350 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS- 
 
 fering for the cause, sword in hand, in the bluidy 
 days of the martyrs," 
 
 It was very evident, however, now, that 
 change of times had brought change of circum- 
 stances ; and that the baronial power of Auld- 
 biggings was so circumscribed, as to deny of its 
 extending any protecting banner oy.er the last 
 of its adherents. 
 
 As I pondered on this, the thought of what 
 was to become of poor Jock pressed on my 
 mind ; for the state of the Laird's circumstances 
 rendered the possibility of Jock's transference 
 with him to Edinburgh a matter wholly out of 
 the question. I spoke of this to Mrs Soorocks, 
 and begged her opinion as to the best political 
 move for the faithful creature during the pre^ 
 sent distressing crisis. 
 
 " Silly body," said Mrs Soorocks, " what 
 earthly thing is he good for, or capable of ? He 
 has been so long accustomed to his ain jog-trot^ 
 that it's a matter o* moonshine to him how the 
 world wags, provided he be able to keep himseU 
 snug and easy. As to recommending him to a 
 Bunky's place in Renthrew, Greeriock, or Glas- 
 gow, or to mount guard wi' the spicy mush- 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 351 
 
 room-bouuettcd heathens of Nawaubpore, is total- 
 ly and entirely out of the question. I wish the 
 poor cratur mayna dee in a ditch yet ; for, like 
 the auld rebel Jacobeets, he has stucken ower 
 lang to a falling house ; or the best that can come 
 o't, is his landing on the parish, or begging his 
 way (for Jock is weel liket) frae door to door 
 through the world." 
 
 " Could the man not find a remedy in matri- 
 mony like his master, Mrs Sorrocks ? It is a 
 miserable thing to see the poor fellow cast on 
 society utterly destitute. He is a feasible enough 
 looking dog, and I dare say some widow's com- 
 fortable open door may be found for him." 
 
 " Weel," replied the lady, " isn't it strange 
 that a body hasna at all times their wits about 
 them ? Ye have just hit the nail on the head* 
 Bless me ! and did such a thing never enter into 
 my stupid head ? Cast him on the world when 
 we have such a market for disposing of him ! I 
 really canna see yet how you and me have over*- 
 lookit this business till this time o* day. Widow, 
 did ye say ? Na, there is nae need of his ganging 
 even that length, by way of sacrifeese. There's 
 Jenny Clatterpans, . that has had a lang snug 
 
352 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 time o't, and has a pose in her kist-nook, or I'm 
 a mistaken woman. She'll be out o' place, too ; 
 and I doutna will grup like a drowning creature 
 at ony comfortable down-sitting. I'll have her 
 sent for this very blessed afternoon, for there's 
 no time to be lost ; and I daur to say, that Jenny 
 has mair gude sense than stand in the way of 
 such a godsend of good fortune." 
 
 " Well, Mrs Soorocks," said I, " I leave the 
 matter in your excellent hands, and have the 
 strongest hopes that you will be able to bring 
 the business to a speedy bearing ; for, when Mrs 
 Mailings is gone, I am afraid Jock's slender 
 funds would speedily show themselves " like 
 the morning dew, that soon vanisheth away." 
 
 Mrs Soorocks was not worse than her word, 
 for the mercurial activity of the lady's constitu- 
 tion seemed expressly to have been given her, to 
 counterbalance and remedy the listlessness of 
 more saturnine neighbours; the same call, 
 which served as a parting one to the Laird and 
 his lady, being appropriated at its conclusion to 
 brightening up the promises and prospects of 
 Jock's future life. Contrary, however, to ex- 
 pectation, Jenny at first rode refractory, and re- 
 
< ii \PTER xxxi x. 
 
 sen ted her being evened to Jock as a high in- 
 sult ; but, calming down before the strong and 
 subtle reasoning of Mrs Soorocks, she began at 
 length to view the matter in another aspect. 
 
 " Weel, weel," said Jenny, as Mrs Soorocks 
 afterwards told me, " what is ordeened for ane 
 will never gang past them ; but onybody that 
 wad, ance in a day, have telled me that our man 
 Jock and me was to be buckled thegither, I 
 should hae thocht had nae ither intention than 
 of making a fule o' me. But, for a j that, I'm 
 no denying that he is a good-natured soul ; and, 
 in gude keeping, might through time come to be 
 a civileezed creature. A brokener ship nor that 
 has come to land." 
 
 Not long after parting with Mrs Soorocks, on 
 that same day, I encountered Jock on the road, 
 with a band-box in his hand, containing proba- 
 bly some article of female finery, for which, as 
 he told me unsolicited, his mistress had sent 
 him in to Renfrew. On questioning him on 
 his future prospects, and what he intended do- 
 ing after leaving the Laird's service, he inform- 
 ed me, " that he was just thinking of taking a 
 stap owcr bye to me, to see if I kent ony gentle- 
 
354 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 man or nobleman in the neibourhood in need of 
 an active steady butler, for he wasna fond o' 
 travelling far frae hame ; and a place o' the kind 
 of the Laird's getting for him in Embrough, 
 might lead him gude kens where maybe up to 
 Lonon, which he had nae brew o'." 
 
 I could not help smiling both at the humility 
 of Jock's choice, and the confidence he seemed 
 to express of the Laird's interest being able to 
 procure for him any settlement of this sort ; 
 but one minute's attention to the tones of Jock's 
 voice, and a single glance at the poor fellow's 
 uncouth and undrawing -room -like gestures, 
 carried manifest testimony with them of the 
 absurdity of such a proposition. 
 
 " Upon my word, Jock," said I, " it strikes 
 me, that from the experience yon have had in 
 the world in the capacity of fac-totum to the 
 Laird, you are well entitled to shy for evermore 
 the trammels of servantship, and commence 
 head of a house on your own account." 
 
 " Me the head of a house !" cried Jock ; 
 " Na, na, that will never sowther. I'm neither 
 able in the capacity of purse or person for ony 
 such upsetting, to say naething aboot being ye- 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 355 
 
 dicated ; but I can baith read and \ rite, for a* 
 that." 
 
 " I'm sure, Jock, you have long had a sweet- 
 heart somewhere or other, that is the apple of 
 your eye, and whom you long to make the wife 
 of your bosom? It is nonsense denying the 
 fact." 
 
 " As sure as death," said Jock, with his ut- 
 most attempt at gravity and earnestness, " I 
 never had ony sweethearts in my life deil a 
 yaue except a bit wench, Matty Primrose, 
 that gied me the slip whan I least expected it, 
 and followed a dragoon regiment that lay in 
 Hamilton. She gaed away to the wars wi' her 
 gudeman, and, doubtless, baith him and her arc 
 doun amang the dead men lang ago." 
 
 " I've heard, Jock, that Leezie and you have 
 been drawing up of late Is that true ?" 
 
 " Whae ? Leezy, Mrs Soorock's maid ! No 
 a word o' truth in't, as I'm a leeving sinner. 
 Na, na, she's ower young for the like o' me. I 
 wad like a canny an' sedatt housekeeper. I 
 wadna tak Leezie." 
 
 " Well, Jock, perhaps Leezie has other fish 
 to fry; but I'm sure you can have no earthly 
 
356 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 objections to Jenny Clatter pans ? If you and 
 she were to come together, you would just find 
 yourself as much at home as at Auldbiggings. 
 How long have you been in the house toge- 
 ther?" 
 
 " Let me see," answered Jock. " Jenny 
 let me see, has been aboot us, ae way and an- 
 ither, aboot aughteen year. She was a gude 
 while the errand lassie, but I spoke to the Laird 
 to promote her to the charge of the kail-pat. 
 Jenny and me aye gree very weel, but it wad 
 be condescending in the like o' me to have ony- 
 thing to say to the like o' her me that's been 
 upper servant at The Place, ever sin' I was the 
 height o' yere walking-stick. But I'll do what- 
 ever's thocht best ; I'm no doure in the consti- 
 tution, like some fo'k." 
 
 " Perfectly right, Jock. If I were in your 
 place, I would at once see what could be done. 
 Maybe, if you are not good at the courting, we 
 may get somebody to help you a bit." 
 
 " I'll be obleeged to ye ; but really, as I 
 maistly never tried, there's nae saying hoo I 
 might come on, ' faint heart never wan fair 
 leddy,' as the spaewife ance vrote doun to me, 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 357 
 
 when the leeing fief tell't me I wad hae three 
 wives." 
 
 I could not help smiling at Jock's earnest- 
 ness, as he deprecated the latitude to which 
 the tether of the fortune-teller allowed him to 
 range ; and, as he added, 
 
 " But, for a' that, I daur say your advice is 
 holesome Jenny '11 be packing up bag and 
 baggage immediately, to gang away as soon as 
 the Laird and his Leddy take the mail coach, to 
 her native, somewhere awa doun aboot Paisley. 
 She's weel connectit, as I've heard her say my- 
 sell; and, though its stooping doun, I maun 
 confess, for the like o' me to lift up sae little as 
 her, yet folk are obligated to bow their back to 
 the times, and it's a great chance but my lot- 
 tery-ticket may come out a blank." 
 
 " Keep up your heart, Jock," I said to him ; 
 u but whenever you get home, see what you 
 can make of Jenny." 
 
 " I'll do that, sir; but it's time for me to 
 be moving, for, if I dinna jealouse wrang, 
 Geordie Joug, o' the Tanker and Tappit-Hen 
 public, has a shcep's-ee after her ; but I daur- 
 say she wad never be siccan a fule as pit the 
 
358 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 like o' me and Geordie Joug, wi* his ringle-ee, 
 into a balance." 
 
 As Jock moved on with his paviour-like 
 steps and uncouth habiliments, " whistling as 
 he went for want of thought," his hat turned 
 up behind, and the band-box of his mistress 
 suspended from his left hand by a blue ribbon, 
 I could not help more than once turning to look 
 after him on the road, as I thought to myself, 
 " There goes a veritable picture of Adonis, 
 the beau-ideal of a lover." 
 
[ 359 ] 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 LITTLE remains to be added to this brief do- 
 mestic tale, which we now hurry on to its con- 
 clusion, premising, however, that the united elo- 
 quence of Jock and his able advocate Mrs Soor- 
 ocks, eventually succeeded wonderfully with 
 Jenny Clatterpans ; and after being three times 
 regularly proclaimed in church an acquies- 
 cence with propriety and church-laws, which 
 was more than his Laird and Leddy could 
 boast of Dr Lounlans joined them together as 
 man and wife. To such as are interested in 
 their welfare, we have the felicity of saying, 
 that, assisted by Jenny, who is of a managing 
 turn, Jock is now in a thriving way, their uni- 
 ted funds having been sufficient to buy a cow 
 or two, and a myriad of cocks and hens the 
 produce of which in the shape of milk, eggs, 
 
360 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 butter, chickens, and cheese, enables them to 
 enjoy all the necessaries, and a few of the luxu- 
 ries of life. To add to their connubial bliss, we 
 have the greatest satisfaction in adding, that 
 Jenny has lately presented Jock with a fine 
 boy, the very image of his father. 
 
 Stimulated by disappointment, yet under the 
 pretext of doing justice to his ward, the Nabob 
 prosecuted with ardour the claim which he had 
 on the lands of Auldbiggings, till the old Laird, 
 like a bird hovering round its desolated nest, 
 and loath to take his leave, fairly finding him- 
 self driven to his wit's-end, and unable longer 
 to retain possession, abandoned the home which 
 for many a generation had been the pride and 
 sanctuary of his ancestors, and moved with his 
 Leddy and her sister to Edinburgh. By the pur- 
 chase-money of the superiority, together with 
 the income and gatherings of the two ladies, he 
 is enabled to live in great comparative respect- 
 ability ; yet he is said to have been at first much 
 annoyed at finding himself only one of an im- 
 mense crowd, thoughtless of him and busy with 
 their own concerns, instead of the west country 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Laird, " the admired of all admirers," and the 
 sovereign of his own petty domain. 
 
 Regularly, whenever the season is over, the 
 Laird and his Leddy revisit Barenbraes, redu- 
 cing their establishment, and haining for the 
 winter ; for, like the other Athenian gentry, they 
 make a point of returning to town when the 
 Courts open. The Laird still talks of publishing 
 his Memoirs, though we have not lately had op- 
 portunity of learning what progress he is making 
 in that elaborate, curious, and erudite work, con- 
 sistency having obliged him to cancel some parts, 
 and remodel others, on account of his alteration 
 of opinion, having become a strenuous advocate 
 for free trade in corn, since he ceased to be in- 
 terested in the fluctuations of agriculture. When 
 the weather is calm and fair, he is sometimes 
 met with in Prince's Street, with one of the la- 
 dies on each arm. They seem particularly fond 
 of the windows of the picture shops, opposite 
 which they may be frequently observed pausing ; 
 nor do they disdain taking a view of the " Hy- 
 dras, Gorgons, and Chimseras dire," plastered 
 up in front of the menageries on the Mound, 
 when the newspapers announce any fresh im- 
 
362 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 portation of natural curiosities. In general, how- 
 ever, he prefers to sit at home, watching the 
 mutations of the clouds from his window, or the 
 shapes of Saracens, and salamanders in the fire. 
 In this pensive guise and solitary occupation, 
 he is allowed to spend many an unmolested 
 hour ; for the ladies are great forenoon visitors, 
 talking much of their slater Lady Chaiidos, and 
 but rarely alluding to their niece Mrs Lounlans, 
 of whom, when they do chance to make men- 
 tion, one of them makes a point of sighing, as it 
 were to indicate how much they fqel for her im- 
 prudence in having marred their pedigree by 
 marrying so far below her own station. 
 
 We had almost overlooked the amiable domi- 
 nie, Mr Tansie so fares it often with unobtru- 
 sive merit in this busy and bustling world but 
 the reader may not find it unpleasant to be told, 
 that, with the equanimity of one of Plato's dis- 
 ciples, he keeps the silent tenor of his way, 
 " teaching the young idea how to shoot" for his 
 livelihood, contented with a situation whose pri- 
 vacy enables him to indulge in his philosophical 
 day-dreams, with but few wants to supply, and 
 having these amply satisfied. 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER XL. 363 
 
 A pleasant time for him is it during his 
 Christ mas vacation the season of long starry 
 nights, and wintry devastation to pay his an- 
 nual visit to the metropolis, when he never fails, 
 as in duty bound, to pay his respects to the 
 Laird, and the Ladies ; constantly carrying with 
 him, from the faithful Jock to his master, some 
 little token of his grateful remembrance, in the 
 shape of a seasonable goose, or a pair of well- 
 fed ducks, in the corner of his portmanteau. 
 
 I was much pleased with Mr Tansie's descrip- 
 tion of the Laird's town residence, and the re- 
 marks to which it gave rise in his unsophisti- 
 cated mind. 
 
 " They dwell," said he, " in a fine double 
 house, with two entrances. One opens to a 
 common-stair that leads to the upper flat and 
 attics, which certain of the lower orders inhabit. 
 The other is a genteel door with pillars and 
 architraves, such as befit the porch of a house 
 for a family of rank and pedigree. 
 
 " You cannot go amiss in looking for the 
 house, for it has a brass plate on the door, with 
 * Malachi Mailings, Esq. of Auldbiggings,' on't 
 at full length ; the which to observe caused me 
 
364 THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 
 
 much perplexity, for I could not divine what 
 the Laird had to do with a sign. That doctors, 
 advocates, and writers to the signet, should have 
 recourse to such brazen devices to make them- 
 selves notorious, and to bring custom, seems not 
 unreasonable ; but for landless lairds, and free- 
 holders of parchment, to set themselves up as a 
 titular nobility, and expect fame and renown by 
 inscribing their teetles as they call them, on brass, 
 is, to say the least o't, not the way that Horace 
 took to raise himself a monument ; but I dare- 
 say it is done by the quondam Laird, our friend, 
 in a spirit of bravery, for I was told that he 
 still refuses to sign or assent to any legal sur- 
 render of Auldbiggings to the Nabob, though 
 he may be brought to trouble for his contu- 
 macity." 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
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