"Deed!" quoth Baldy, "I will allow it's taking you a thoct nearer heaven's yett before your time; but if ye heard what a panic's in the burgh on this occasion for lodgings, ye would be content wi' thae that I hea gotten, even if they had been nine stairs towards the entrance of anither place."

"Well," said Southennan, "let the things be taken there; but where is the boy? I want him.”

He's

"I trow," replied Baldy, "he's to be a fash to us. glaikit and ta'en up hither and yon, wi' Gude kens what he was up and out this morning afore the skreigh o' day, and I misdoot if he hasna' gi'en himself o'er wi' mair gudewill · towards that unco Knockwhinnie, than comports wi' faithful service to you, Laird: ye'll hae to gie him counsel, if it should be on the breadth o' his back, wi' a rung, no to be sae neglectfu' o' his rightful service."

While they were thus speaking, Hughoc made his appearance, and in approaching, gave his master a sign that he had something to tell not proper for Baldy to hear. Southennan, in consequence, repeated his order to remove the luggage without delay; and stepped towards the boy, who said, warily, in a whispering voice,

"I'm thinking we hae gotten into an awfu' trap. I did, yestreen, just what ye bade me. I ga'ed wi' Knockwhinnie to the house he has made his howf. It was up Gude kens how mony stairs, and its keepit by a long lean leddy, ane Mistress Marjory Seaton: she's a narrow woman, yon!"

Southennan was a little disconcerted that Baldy should have made choice of the same house; and was on the point of directing the boy to bid him suspend the removal of the luggage until he should have accommodated himself elsewhere, when Hughoc subjoined, still more impressively,

"And do ye ken, Laird, just when I had gotten Knockwhinnie weel within the door, and was coming down the stair, wi' a match in my hand for a light, wha should I meet coming up, wi' a flaught like a whirlwind, but Friar Michael, that was catched, ye ken, by the town offishers, talking high treason wi' our auld doited Father Jerome. What could be the meaning o' that, Laird ?"

Southennan being altogether unacquainted with what had taken place before the magistrates, saw nothing very extraordinary in the circumstance which Hughoc had observed; and said, "Well, what then?"

"What then, sir!" exclaimed Hughoc, "wasna he on leg bail ! But the wonderfu' thing o' a', sir, he ran up the stair,

and I couldna' but blaw out my match, and creep after him; and what do ye think happened?"

"And what did happen?" asked Southennan, impatiently. "He chappit at the door wi' his knuckle, and it was opened by Mistress Marjory herself, wi' an iron croosie in her hand. Eh cousin!' said she; 'Scog me!' quo' he, so in he went, the door was shut; and wasna' that a wonderfu' thing?”

"Is he too a lodger there," said Southennan, to himself, "that settles the point ;" and he called aloud to forbid the removal.

"But that's no a'," said Hughoc," I cam down the stair and out on the causey; and sic a stramash as there was in a crowd concerning ane Auchenbrae that had loupet out o' the hands o' the Lord Provost, when he was standing before him to be hanged for something that wasna canny. But, sir, for a' that, I cam hame and I gae to my bed, but I couldna sleep; so I rose at the gray day-light to see what Mistress Marjory was making o' her bonny birds. Now, sir, I'm gaun to let you into the marrow o' the fact."

"Well, go on," said Southennan, beginning to be more interested in the story; "You went there this morning—"

"I was so minded," replied Hughoc, "but just as I got to the foot o' the stair out cam a terrible stalwart gruesome randy carlin, wi a rung for a staff that would hae made a bawk to our barn; and wha do ye think it was? If I can trust my eyne, it was Friar Michael again; and he had a creel on his back fu' o' gear like a fish-woman. Wasna this an extraordinar' thing?"

"And what did you?" asked his master.

"I had heard o' plots and conspeeracies about Courts, ye ken, Laird; and I said to mysel, surely this maun be ane o' them, but please Gude! I'll see the bottom o't, for maybe I'm ordained to be a mean o' saving the Queen's life, and may get something worth while for my pains. So ye see, maister, I just took my heels ahint me and fallow't madam that was the Friar Michael; and whar do ye think she gaed to ?"

"Be more connected," said Southennan, " tell me, at once, what all this is about; for I have no time to listen."

er;

"It's no possible," replied the boy, " to mak' the tale shortbut I can skip the particulars till anither time, and tell you that I fallow't Friar Michael in his glamoury down to the ferry at the water o' Leith, and there he crossed, and for aught I ken, is aff and awa' to the Highland hills. Doesna' that cow a', Laird ?"

"But what of Knockwhinnie? What have you seen or heard of him this morning."

"If ye would be a wee patientfu', Laird, I would tell you, for I canna mak the past and the present ae thing; but the come-to-pass was, when I saw Friar Michael o'er the water, back cam I to do my devoirs to Knock whinnie, an' ye see I was soon again at the foot o' the mistress Marjory's stair, and I ran up; odd! yon's desperate stairs, they put me out o' breath before I got to the door; but to the door I did get, and tirled at the pin; and wha was sae ready at the sneck as the leddy hersel', to open and let me in. Then I said to her, that I cam frae you, and was sent to speer for Knockwhinnie: that was nae lee, Laird, for ye kan ye intended it should be sae. Odd! but she's an elsin, yon leddy; her eyne kindled, and she looked at me as if they had been wimbles, that would hae gaen thro' So I put on a weel-bred saft manner, and told her how my maister--that was you, sir-was a condisciple o' Knockwhinnie's, and how we had travelled intil Embro thegither, and how ye were concerned for fear he would this morning be the waur o' his journey, and I was come to speer for him. This beguilded the leddy, and she bade me come in, and be sure and dight my feet; she does keep a clean house, and that I'll tell my aunty Abigail, when, please fortune! we're a' back and safe at the Place again."

me.

"Did you find Knockwhinnie there?" interrupted his

master.

"Oh, no," said couldna' tell where. thank-you way; and you."

Hughoc, "he was out, and the leddy But she said he was in a very-weel-Ithat's a' I ha'e gotten, Laird, to tell

But

Little as the boy's story seemed to be to any purpose, it yet contained some tidings which interested his master. The conduct of Friar Michael seemed to be involved in some guilty mystery, and he was uneasy in reflecting that he had been first arrested in the company of his own chaplain. the strongest impression which he received from the story was the curious accident, as it seemed to him, by which Baldy had been led to choose his lodging in a house frequented by characters in the hunted state of Knock whinnie and Friar Michael, It appeared, however, that the latter was related to the hostess, and it might indeed be but by chance that Baldy had gone there; still he was perplexed, and without absolutely deciding not to go to his new lodgings, he ordered Baldy to postpone the removal till another time.

CHAPTER XXIV.

"Heaven has a gentle mercy For penitent offenders."

THE LADY'S TRIAL.

SOUTHENNAN went into the house, and had scarcely seated himself in his own apartment, when the Count Dufroy, from the Council chamber, was announced. The visit was unexpected; but it had happened that after leaving the Tolbooth, the Count met Chatelard in the street, who informed him of Southennan's early visit to the Palace and the particular anxiety which he had evinced to see him.

Unaware of the interest which so many curious accidents and circumstances had excited in Southennan for Knockwhinnie, the Count, after a few civilities had passed between them, began to speak of the occasion which led him so early to attend a summons from the magistrates.

"I am in hope," said he, " that the time is come when Kockwhinnie will be disabused of the delusion under which he labours with respect to me."

He then recounted what had taken place before the magistrates regarding Auchenbrae, adding,

I

"I have no doubt by the description which I received from the Lady Ellenor on the night of her abduction, that he is the guilty party. There was great weakness in me at the time, in not making more sure of him, but my attention was absorbed in her condition, and he was permited to escape. wish it were possible to convince Knockwhinnie of the truth of this. On many accounts I desire it; but chiefly on his daughter's, whose situation with the Queen, though honourable and distinguished, is not happy.

Southennan assured him that Knockwhinnie was inclined now to listen to every reasonable explanation, and had commisioned him to wait on the Count for that purpose.

"I can only," replied Dufroy," repeat to you what I have said to others, that it was not by me the Lady Ellenor was stolen from her own house; that I found her in a state of insensibility in the possession of another; that I rescued her from

the outrage; and that it was in the crisis of rescue her own servants came up. Her father, the Lord Kilburnie, was so far satisfied with the purity of my conduct, that when he himself conducted her to Normandy, he placed her in the convent of the Ursulines at Caen, of which the abbess is my aunt."

Southenman then inquired how it had happened that no endeavour was ever made on the part of Lord Kilburnie to inform Knock whinnie of these circumstances.

"Your observation is just," replied the Count, "but had you known the man you would not have been surprised at his conduct. He is no more, and I may speak of him truly as he was it can now do him no harm, nor is there any lack of discretion in the freedom which I may take with him. He was a Scottish baron of the sternest breed, somewhat, it is true, tamed by occasional visits to Paris, but it was a mere habitude, no change had been produced upon his proud and fierce nature. The iron was not transmuted: it was only gilded. Something which was never explained to me, had filled him with resentment against Knock whinnie, for having as he alleged, deserted the Lady Ellenor and her child, and this it was which prevented him from seeking to conciliate Knockwhinnie after the abduction. Satisfied with the innocence of his daughter, he disdained to explain as much to her husband, whose desertion he often wrathfully said, was the cause of the outrage to which she had been exposed. His death, soon after her retirement to France, left the affair in this unfortunate and undermined state."

"You must acknowledge," said Southennan," that the affection you have shown to the Lady Ellenor's daughter, was calculated to confirm the jealousy of her husband."

"The child was helpless. I thought in no particular manner, either of her mother's wrongs, or of her father's attack on my own life. I was pleased with its beauty when I saw it with other noble children, who were placed for their education with my aunt the abbess. It was for it's own sake, having no family of my own, that I adopted it; for though the Lord Kilburnie was reckoned among my friends, yet I regarded him with no such particular affection as to have adopted his granddaughter, had there not been other motives in the beautiful creature itself to attach me to her."

Southennan; acknowledged that the explanation of Dufroy was to him satisfactory; but there was still something unaccountable in the reserve with which the Count appeared to withhold his adopted daughter from her father; for he re