to be seen, came inquiring for Father Jerome; and when I showed him in where the auld man was sitting, it was wonderfu' to hear the phrases of lang syne acquaintanceship that passed between them, and how they rejoiced that the Queen was such a beautiful Christian, hoping the end o' a' hersey was nigh at hand. As it wouldna' hae been discreet in me to hearken to their conversation, I left them to themselves, and went to the door; and when I went there, wha should I meet wi,' but a kind o' an outlandish captain, of a stern visage, in his peremptors asking anent Knock whinnie; and then came others and others. What can it be that has brought Father Jerome so far afield? For at the Place we a' thought he had but a light errand."

Southennan had attended only to the latter part of this speech; and though he said nothing, he could not but agree that there was something mysterious in the chaplain's visit to Edinburgh at that particular period. He was the more persuaded of this, by the manner in which the old man had always evaded a direct answer, as often as he was spoken to on the subject. But the inquiry which had been made for Knockwhinnie interested him deeper: the description of the person who had inquired for the Outlaw, answered to that of the stranger whom he had met in the street; and he apprehended that the notoriety which already attached to his party, augured no good to Knock whinnie, while it threatened trouble to himsel; although he was unable to discern any cause from which it could arise, beyond the innocent circumstance of his having travelled in companionship with the Outlaw.

Not, however, choosing to make his servant a party to his thoughts, he said to Baldy, " It is natural that Father Jerome's old friends should be eager to see him, and that some of Knockwhinnie's acquaintance should also, if they heard he was in town, be of the same mind.”

"Na," replied Baldy, "that's no' the fair daylight of the concern. That Father Jerome has a purpose to perform, is as certain as any other true visibility: and that the stark and stern Johnnie-Armstrong-looking sodger officer had mair in his mind about Knockwhinnie than he said to me, is no' a misdoubt. I wish the auld chaplain, doited body, was weel at hame, and that we had never foregathered wi' the other!"

This opinion, so much in accordance with his own thoughts, awakened the attention of Southennan, and he looked sharply at Baldy, as he said,

"What do you know, or what have you heard, about either

the one or the other? Tell me at once, and don't summer and winter about it in that manner ?"

"Weel, Laird, if ye'll just hae patience I'll tell you a'. Depend upon't there's some cotrivance between Father Jerome and others o' the auld true religion here in Embro'; and there's some dule pactioned and convenanted against Knockwhinnie, puir man! It would be weel for him, or I'm mista'en if he were again out o' this nest of conspirators, and on the free moors o' the west."

Southennan was too well acquainted with the tedious roundabout ways of Baldy, to expect he would come earlier to a satisfactory explanation by increasing the impatience of his tone; so, instead of sharpening it with more direct questions, he simply said,

"Whatever may be Father Jerome's business, it does not concern me; he is a worthy honest man, and I have no reason to fear scaith, either at his hands or those of any other; but I confess it would grieve me exceedingly, were any accident to befal Knockwhinnie, before I have learned more of his misfortunes; for he is a brave man and has endured more than he has inflicted."

"There can be nae doubt o' that," said Baldy; "but it was a terrible thing to stab an honest man blindfolded, wha had never done him any wrang; and a' this at the instigation o' his ain sworn enemy."

It was plain from this that Baldy had learned something more about Knockwhinnie, and the attempted assassination of Count Dufroy, than his master was yet acquainted with.

"Who was his enemy? and what know you of his unfortunate attack on the Count Dufroy?"

"If ye mean," replied Baldy," the truth o' the matter, I canna say its meikle; but it's currently reported, for mair than ae person has spoken o't in my presence, that it wasna' the French Count that wranged Knockwhinnie, but the rampageous Laird o' Auchenbrae, wha is the kinsman o' the Shirra o' Renfrew; and there's nae want o' tongues that can tell the purpose which took Knock whinnie out o' his wilder howfs, was to wreak his vengeance on that wrongous offender. Indeed, I jalous that by a somehow the outlandish man is nae other than that reprobate cousin to the Shirra."

This seemed not unplausible, as it accounted in some degree for that zeal and rigour of pursuit from which Knockwhinnie had so adroitly escaped on the moors of Renfrewshire,

"But have you heard, Baldy, what the wrong was which provoked Knockwhinnie to attempt the life of the French gentlemen ?"

“I canna' just say preceesely that I hae heard that; but it was either or neither something about a lady o' a light character. It's terrible to think what a stramash thae kittle-cattle hae made in the world since the apple-stealing o' grannie Eve."

His master perceiving, by this remark, that the stock of Baldy's news or facts was nearly exhausted, desired him to see if the house could supply him with supper. Before, however, Baldy could leave the room, Hughoc burst in, evidently in great consternation.

"Oh! Laird," cried the boy, "here's an awfu' thing! Father Jerome has been sitting a' the while wi' three unco men; and just as they were ganging awa,' the Provost's halberdiers cam and took ane o' them up for an ill-doer. But what he has done, and what they will do wi' him, is a world's wonder." Southennan, on hearing this, turned somewhat sternly towards Baldy, and said,

"You suspected, sir, that something not right was going on; be explicit with me, and tell what you suspected! Why was it that you, in a clandestine manner, as it were, lighted me up into this chamber? You knew that Father Jerome and his confederates were engaged in a business which I must consider, from what has now taken place, as at least equivocal." And turning to Hughoc, he added, " I think thou hast knavery enough from instinct to execute a sly errand; follow those men of the Provost, and when thou hast learned the cause of the arrest, come back and let me know."

Here Baldy, a little diffidently, said, "Though the callant is as gleg as a goshawk at hame in the country, I doubt, as he has na experience, he may want the sagacity to wend himself in safety through the crooked closses of the town."

"Art thou afraid, boy, to do my bidding?" said Southennan, evidently angered by the interposition of Baldy.

Hughoc briskly replied, "By night or by day, Laird, by fire or by water, Laird, I'se warrant ye'll see I'll try to do what behooves me!"

With that he hastily left the room, and was sullenly followed by Baldy.

CHAPTER XIV.

"I would we were removed from this town, Anthony,
That we might taste some quiet for mine own part,
I am almost melted with continual trotting

After inquiries."

THE CHANCES.

BALDY, on going down stairs, went into the kitchen, and, in rather a surly manner, directed the hostess to get ready something for his master's supper. Without inquiring what she had to give, he retired into the chamber where Father Jerome was sitting alone, a good deal disconcerted at the untoward dispersion of his friends.

It was soon obvious that a better understanding existed between the chaplain and the Laird's body servant, than was previously supposed by many, who thought they knew them both well. Baldy, unbidden, seated himself at the table on which the old Priest was leaning, and without any particular preface, inquired what had happened.

"I doubt," said Father Jerome, shaking his head, "the friends of our cause here are too sanguine. They boast of this man and of that; of the faithfulness of one lord, and of the wavering state of others, who have been most froward in the mutiny against the Church; but it is only of individual men they speak. I fear, good Archibald, that the spirit of the times runs strong against us in the current of the people's thoughts."

"But what has caused the incoming of the Provost's men, and the arrest o' which was it they took?"

"Brother Michael, of Kilwinning, a zealous and fervent son of the Church; but lacking a little of that discretion which is needful, before either zeal or fervour can be turned to good account. What offence he may have committed was not explained; they took him as he sat where you are now sitting, and he himself, as if conscious that he was responsible to them, rose at once, pale and much agitated, and submissively walked away."

"Hadna' your other friends," rejoined Baldy, "a guess o'

the cause? It's really a hard thing that a man shoud be seized like a malefactor, without kenning for what, and a churchman too."

"Ay, my friend," replied the venerable chaplain thoughtfully, "times are changed with my brethren; but though the Provost's men said nothing, I could see that Friar Michael well knew the reason of his arrest."

"Then you think," said Baldy, after a pause, "that ours is a gane cause; and that this coming o' the Queen is to be o' nae benefit to the soul's health o' puir Scotland."

The worthy ecclesiastic made no immediate reply; he sat in evident perplexity, and sighed deeply. When at last he did resume the conversation, it was in a tone of solemnity and regret.

"I am an old man," said he, "infirm of limb, and too heavy to move lightly in the troubles of this time: so I told you, Archibald, when ye brought the message to me from the Master of Grossreguel, but I was willing to do my duty. I thought, however, that the men who were sent from the country to meet here on the Queen's arrival, were of another sort than the specimens I have seen this night. Alas, for our cause! it bodes ill to any undertaking, when those who are entrusted with it are moved by private interests, or by the impulses of passion. Of the seventeen brothers who have been with me already, there has not appeared one among them whom a wary and judicious man would trust with the wool of a dog; they can see nothing in the service which the Church requires of them, but extirpation and a sordid rescue of their revenues. I, therefore, greatly grieve, Archibald, to find our cause in such a plight. We have been traduced and slandered for the irregularities of our morals, but how are we ever to recover the good opinion of the world, if we seek only to regain the means that led us into temptation."

Baldy was not altogether prepared, notwithstanding his long acquaintance with the speaker, for the moderation and charity of these sentiments, and he looked not a little surprised at the acknowledgment on the part of so good man, that there was some truth in the alleged enormities of the clergy. "Do ye then think," said he, "that the evil cloud which has broken in sic a storm on kirk and cloister, is the fruit of a judgment and sentence?"

"I can never think, Archibald," replied Father Jerome, with sedate emphasis; "that the Spirit of the Church is the cause of the evils which have come to pass."