a day invisible and
inaccessible even to Mysie, sequestered in his own peculiar dungeon,
where he sat burnishing a single pewter plate and whistling "Maggie
Lauder" six hours without intermission.

The issue of this unfortunate requisition had shut against Caleb all
resources which could be derived from Wolf's Hope and its purlieus, the
El Dorado, or Peru, from which, in all former cases of exigence, he had
been able to extract some assistance. He had, indeed, in a manner vowed
that the deil should have him, if ever he put the print of his foot
within its causeway again. He had hitherto kept his word; and, strange
to tell, this secession had, as he intended, in some degree, the effect
of a punishment upon the refractory feuars. Mr. Balderstone had been a
person in their eyes connected with a superior order of beings, whose
presence used to grace their little festivities, whose advice they found
useful on many occasions, and whose communications gave a sort of credit
to their village. The place, they acknowledged, "didna look as it used
to do, and should do, since Mr. Caleb keepit the castle sae closely;
but doubtless, touching the eggs and butter, it was a most unreasonable
demand, as Mr. Dingwall had justly made manifest."

Thus stood matters betwixt the parties, when the old butler, though it
was gall and wormwood to him, found himself obliged either to ackowledge
before a strange man of quality, and, what was much worse, before that
stranger's servant, the total inability of Wolf's Crag to produce a
dinner, or he must trust to the compassion of the feuars of Wofl's Hope.
It was a dreadful degradation; but necessity was equally imperious and
lawless. With these feelings he entered the street of the village.

Willing to shake himself from his companion as soon as possible, he
directed Mr. Lockhard to Luckie Sma-trash's change-house, where a din,
proceeding from the revels of Bucklaw, Craigengelt, and their party,
sounded half-way down the street, while the red glare from the window
overpowered the grey twilight which was now settling down, and glimmered
against a parcel of old tubs, kegs, and barrels, piled up in the
cooper's yard, on the other side of the way.

"If you, Mr. Lockhard," said the old butler to his companion, "will be
pleased to step to the change-house where that light comes from, and
where, as I judge, they are now singing 'Cauld Kail in Aberdeen,' ye
may do your master's errand about the venison, a