be entered in the minutes of Council, that the community is never hereafter to be burdened with the cost and outlays of such banquetings."

All present ruffed upon the table their high admiration of this magnanimous patriotism, and the clerk was directed to make a record of the same..

When this important part of the business of the morning was determined, and when the town-clerk had read over the minute of the proceedings in the case of Auchenbrae, on which the Court had adjourned, that delinquent was again ordered to be placed at the bar; and the Count Dufroy then called by name, immediately presented himself, and was most courteously invited by the Provost to take a seat within the bar.

Some little time elapsed before the halberdiers appeared, and in the mean while a number of pleasant and facetious bagatelles passed between the Count and the Lord Provost, who politely recollected that he had seen him during the siege of Leith; and past Bailie Brown inquired of the Count, in a most debonair manner, concerning a certain very remarkable French officer of distinction, with a Roman nose, and large black whiskers, whom he recollected in the French army, but whose name he did not then exactly remember.

"He was," said the Bailie, "a most entertaining lad, and could play on the lute with the dexterity of a trumpeter, or a troubadour, the sort of musicants ye have in France: for my part, however, though I will allow their music to be most soft and melodious, I yet cannot but say, that I think every man of a correct taste will acknowledge that the bagpipes on the far side of a Highland loch, are to the full more commendable."

The Count replied, that there was no accounting for tastes, and to some ears there might be a fascination in the bagpipes, especially at a distance.

At this moment Johnnie Gaff came forward followed by his compeers, with considerable consternation in their faces.

CHAPTER XXII.

"Mer. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Rom. What counterfeit did I give you?

Mer. The slip, sir, the slip."

ROMEO AND JULIET.

Ox seeing the halberdiers, the Provost exclaimed, with some impatience,

66

Bring forward the prisoner? What for will ye no do your duty?"

Upon this Johnnie Gaff stepped forward, and said " Non est inventy."

"None of your Latin havers, Johnnie," said past Bailie Brown: "but tell us in the language of Christianity, where's the prisoner?"

"Na!" said Johnnie, "that would puzzle a soothsayer; but he 's either aff and awa, wi' a whisk like the wind through a key-hole, or he has undergone some unco metamorphoze." "What is it you mean?" said the Provost.

"Just nae mair than, that where he should hae been in the iron room, instead o' him, we found his servant man, Watty Wallace."

"How can that be possible?"

"As to the possibility, I hae little to say, but it's true; it's neither in essy, or in possy; it's just a certainty.'

"This is most extraordinary!" exclaimed the Provost, Bailies, and Council.

"And how can you account for this neglect in your warding, Johnnie? I never heard the like of this," said

the Provost.

"It wasna our faut, my Lord! it a' cam o' the crowd that fallow't us up the steeple stair. In that crowd there happened to be the foresaid Watty Wallace in pro: per:, wi' a plaid about him the very marrow, I would say the ilk in a certain sense, o' the ane his master had on. Weel ye see, my Lord, when we were in the mirk o' the stair, the bowet wherewi' Robin Lockie was lighting us up, was driven out o'

his hand by the said Watty Wallace, greeting like a bairn, and forcing himself in on a pretence to tak a loving leave o' his maister; by the whilk thing, somebody put their feet on the said bowet, and smashing the horn, quenched the candle. So being a' in the dark, we somehow, non clary constat, rammed Watty Wallace intil tha hole, a substitute for his master, wha maun wi' a sort o' glamoury hae slippit thro' our fingers like an evil spirit, for we kent naething o't till we ga'ed to bring him hither this morning."

"Weel," said past Bailie Brown, "I ne'er heard o' sic a supple trick, and is't a possibility that the prisoner has really absconded?"

"He's fuga," said Johnnie.

"Clerk," said the Provost, "ye must send a hue and cry out directly."

"Esto" said Johnnie Gaff.

The Provost then addressed the Count.

"You have heard, sir, of the accidence that has befallen the man that you were called hither to confront, and as he has in a manner so singularly fled from justice, it is not very clear how we should deal with you; but since you have obeyed in so discreet a manner, our summons, we will just ask you a few simple questions, to the end, that it may not be said you were troubled to come from the palace to the Council Chamber of Edinburgh for nothing."

The Count assured the Provost, that he was ready to answer any question which might be put to him.

"Nothing can be more civil and polite than that," said the Provost ; 66 now clerk, take your pen."

"Well, Count, was it you that broke into the Lady of Knockwhinnie's bower chamber, and stole her away?"

The Count, without answering the question, expressed himself happy in being at last placed in a situation to enable him to explain his part in a transaction which was still involved in mystery. But before we relate the statement of the Count, it is here necessary to mention some circumstances in the previous history of Knockwhinnie.

In early life, almost in his prematurity, in consequence of an agreement between their respective fathers, Knockwhinnie was married to the Lady Ellenor, a daughter of the Lord Kilburnie. Contrary to the course of such marriages, their union proved affectionate and happy. From the day of their betrothment, to that of their nuptials, a period of twelve years, they had lived together in the castle of Kilburnie. Knock

whinnie, however, was too bold and adventurous to remain always content with the blandishments of his bride. After the birth of a daughter, he was induced to visit Paris, then much frequented by the young nobility and higher gentry of Scotland; and while there was persuaded to become a member of the Scottish Guards, which at that period were the distinguished attendants of the French king. He then returned home for the purpose of carrying his lady and child to France; but to his extreme disappointment she was averse to go abroad, a circumstance which for the first time caused discontent between them, and he was in consequence obliged to return without her; in the hope, however, that she would yield to the influence of his absence, and voluntarily follow him.

When the Queen Dowager was Regent of Scotland, an army was lent her from France, to enable her to subdue the Protestant malcontents, and the Count Dufroy held in this army a high appointment under the Count D'Oisel. On his arrival at Linlithgow, where the dowager held her court, he found the Lord Kilburnie there with his family, and the Lady Ellenor and her child. Dufroy was previously acquainted with Kilburnie, who had been several times at Paris, and they were both equally happy to renew their former intimacy. It thus happened that the Count became a frequent visiter at the house of Kilburnie, and the freedom which he enjoyed there, with the gay affability of his own manners, was ascribed by some of the friends of the family to an attachment to the Lady of Knock whinnie.

In the mean time Auchenbrae, a profligate scion of the Montgomeries of Eaglesham, had become deeply enamoured of the Lady Ellenor, and, being regardless of the means he employed to attain his ends, resolved to carry her off. This, as the reader is already informed, he had nearly effected, but was interrupted by an accidental encounter with the Count.

The previous rumours, which were altogether unfounded, to the prejudice of her honour, seemed to be verified to the servants, who in the pursuit, found her as already described, senseless in the arms of Dufroy. These rumours and the history of her elopement reached, without any allaying circumstance, Knockwhinnie, at Paris; and he, as the reader is informed, came instantly to Edinburgh, and attempted to satify his revenge by stabbing the Count at the Cross; an event which led to his own outlawry, and induced the Lord Kilburnie to per suade Lady Ellenor, with her child, to retire to a convent in Normandy, as the worthy host of the Unicorn, the Maister

Balwham, had related. The Count, on his return from the Scottish war, moved by his compassion for the unfortunate lady and her innocent misfortunes, and also by his attachment to the Lord Kilburnie, adopted her daughter Adelaide, gave her his na, and finally procured for her that place among the attendants of the young Queen, which ultimately brought her home to Scotland.

His explanation to the magistrates did not, of course, touch upon so many particulars; but it was so far in unison with what Johnnie Gaff had set forward in his declaration, that the only hiatus remaining unexplained, was the interval between the flight of the Lady Ellenor, and the finding of her with the Count; upon which point, he observed, that although not acquainted with Auchenbrae, he had no doubt whatever that it was him who had committed the abduction. "In the dark we met," said he; "and it was only by hearing the screams, and knowing the lady's voice, that I was led to interfere in her rescue.'

CHAPTER XXIII.

"What news?

Hast thou met with him?"

ROMEO AND JULIET.

In the mean time, Southennan returned to his lodgings for Hughoc to conduct him to the house where Knockwhinnie had gone to conceal himself, but the boy was not there. He found, however, Baldy waiting for him, with considerable anxiety.

Baldy had been that morning early a-foot, in quest of a more becoming domicile for his master, and was now desirous of permission to remove their luggage.

"I hae," said he, " met wi' very creditable dry lodgings in Crichton's Land, ayont the Luckenbooths, only up nine stairs, in the house o' ane Mrs. Marjory Seaton, a leddy o' the single order, no being married, and haeing nae childer; she's a maist sponsible character, well stricken in years, and as prejinct in a' about her dwelling, as it's possible for our ain Abigail Cuninghame for her life to be."

Southennan expressed himself satisfied with the arrangement, although nine stairs up sounded somewhat above his wishes.