ot answering it,
unless I think proper."

"Well, it is simply this," answered his late antagonist "What, in
the name of old Sathan, could make you, who stand so highly on your
reputation, think for a moment of drawing up with such a rogue as
Craigengelt, and such a scapegrace as folk call Bucklaw?"

"Simply, because I was desperate, and sought desperate associates."

"And what made you break off from us at the nearest?" again demanded
Bucklaw.

"Because I had changed my mind," said the Master, "and renounced my
enterprise, at least for the present. And now that I have answered your
questions fairly and frankly, tell me what makes you associate with
Craigengelt, so much beneath you both in birth and in spirit?"

"In plain terms," answered Bucklaw, "because I am a fool, who have
gambled away my land in thse times. My grand-aunt, Lady Girnington, has
taen a new tack of life, I think, and I could only hope to get something
by a change of government. Craigie was a sort of gambling acquaintance;
he saw my condition, and, as the devil is always at one's elbow, told
me fifty lies about his credentials from Versailles, and his interest at
Saint Germains, promised me a captain's commission at Paris, and I have
been ass enough to put my thumb under his belt. I dare say, by this
time, he has told a dozen pretty stories of me to the government. And
this is what I have got by wine, women, and dice, cocks, dogs, and
horses."

"Yes, Bucklaw," said the Master, "you have indeed nourished in your
bosom the snakes that are now stinging you."

"That's home as well as true, Master," replied his companion; "but, by
your leave, you have nursed in your bosom one great goodly snake
that has swallowed all the rest, and is as sure to devour you as my
half-dozen are to make a meal on all that's left of Bucklaw, which is
but what lies between bonnet and boot-heel."

"I must not," answered the Master of Ravenswood, "challenge the
freedom of speech in which I have set example. What, to speak without
a metaphor, do you call this monstrous passion which you charge me with
fostering?"

"Revenge, my good sir--revenge; which, if it be as gentle manlike a sin
as wine and wassail, with their et coeteras, is equally unchristian, and
not so bloodless. It is better breaking a park-pale to watch a doe or
damsel than to shoot an old man."

"I deny the purpose," said the Master of Ravenswood. "On my soul, I had
no such intention; I meant but to confro