r preferment; and I trust he will send a ball through
the Keeper's head before he joins us. One or two of these scoundrel
statesmen should be shot once a year, just to keep the others on their
good behaviour."

"That is very true," replied Craigengelt; "and it reminds me that I
must go and see that our horses have been fed and are in readiness; for,
should such deed be done, it will be no time for grass to grow beneath
their heels." He proceeded as far as the door, then turned back with a
look of earnestness, and said to Bucklaw: "Whatever should come of this
business, I am sure you will do me the justice to remember that I said
nothing to the Master which could imply my accession to any act of
violence which he may take it into his head to commit."

"No, no, not a single word like accession," replied Bucklaw; "you
know too well the risk belonging to these two terrible words, 'art and
part.'" Then, as if to himself, he recited the following lines:

"The dial spoke not, but it made shrewd signs, And pointed full upon the
stroke of murder.

"What is that you are talking to yourself?" said Craigengelt, turning
back with some anxiety.

"Nothing, only two lines I have heard upon the stage," replied his
companion.

"Bucklaw," said Craigengelt, "I sometimes think you should have been a
stage-player yourself; all is fancy and frolic with you."

"I have often thought so myself," said Bucklaw. "I believe it would be
safer than acting with you in the Fatal Conspiracy. But away, play
your own part, and look after the horses like a groom as you are. A
play-actor--a stage-player!" he repeated to himself; "that would have
deserved a stab, but that Craigengelt's a coward. And yet I should like
the profession well enough. Stay, let me see; ay, I would come out in
Alexander:

Thus from the grave I rise to save my love,
Draw all your swords, and quick as lightning move.
When I rush on, sure none will dare to stay:
'Tis love commands, and glory leads the way."

As with a voice of thunder, and his hand upon his sword, Bucklaw
repeated the ranting couplets of poor Lee, Craigengelt re-entered with a
face of alarm.

"We are undone, Bucklaw! The Master's led horse has cast himself over
his halter in the stable, and is dead lame. His hackney will be set up
with the day's work, and now he has no fresh horse; he will never get
off."

"Egad, there will be no moving with the speed of lightning this bout,"
said Buc