o the Master of Ravenswood the letter which we rehearsed
in a former chapter. It was cautiously worded, so as to leave it in the
power of the writer hereafter to take as deep or as slight an interest
in the fortunes of his kinsmen as the progress of his own schemes might
require. But however unwilling, as a statesman, the Marquis might be
to commit himself, or assume the character of a patron, while he had
nothing to give away, it must be said to his honour that he felt a
strong inclination effectually to befriend the Master of Ravenswood, as
well as to use his name as a means of alarming the terrors of the Lord
Keeper.

As the messenger who carried this letter was to pass near the house of
the Lord Keeper, he had it in direction that, in the village adjoining
to the park-gate of the castle, his horse should lose a shoe, and that,
while it was replaced by the smith of the place, he should express the
utmost regret for the necessary loss of time, and in the vehemence of
his impatience give it to be understood that he was bearing a message
from the Marquis of A---- to the Master of Ravenswood upon a matter of
life and death.

This news, with exaggerations, was speedily carried from various
quarters to the ears of the Lord Keeper, and each reporter dwelt upon
the extreme impatience of the courier, and the surprising short time
in which he had executed his journey. The anxious statesman heard in
silence; but in private Lockhard received orders to watch the courier
on his return, to waylay him in the village, to ply him with liquor, if
possible, and to use all means, fair or foul, to learn the contents
of the letter of which he was the bearer. But as this plot had been
foreseen, the messenger returned by a different and distant road, and
thus escaped the snare that was laid for him.

After he had been in vain expected for some time, Mr. Dingwall had
orders to made especial inquiry among his clients of Wolf's Hope,
whether such a domestic belonging to the Marquis of A----had actually
arrived at the neighbouring castle. This was easily ascertained; for
Caleb had been in the village one morning by five o'clock, to borrow
"twa chappins of ale and a kipper" for the messenger's refreshment,
and the poor fellow had been ill for twenty-four hours at Luckie
Sma'trash's, in consequence of dining upon "saut saumon and sour drink."
So that the existence of a correspondence betwixt the Marquis and his
distressed kinsman, which Sir Wil