phrase, have both the scathe and the
scorn."

"True for you," answered the herdsman.

CHAPTER XXX.

We must return to the characters of our dramatic narrative whom we
left at Perth, when we accompanied the glover and his fair daughter
to Kinfauns, and from that hospitable mansion traced the course of
Simon to Loch Tay; and the Prince, as the highest personage, claims
our immediate attention.

This rash and inconsiderate young man endured with some impatience his
sequestered residence with the Lord High Constable, with whose company,
otherwise in every respect satisfactory, he became dissatisfied, from
no other reason than that he held in some degree the character of his
warder. Incensed against his uncle and displeased with his father, he
longed, not unnaturally, for the society of Sir John Ramorny, on whom he
had been so long accustomed to throw himself for amusement, and, though
he would have resented the imputation as an insult, for guidance and
direction. He therefore sent him a summons to attend him, providing his
health permitted; and directed him to come by water to a little pavilion
in the High Constable's garden, which, like that of Sir John's own
lodgings, ran down to the Tay. In renewing an intimacy so dangerous,
Rothsay only remembered that he had been Sir Join Ramorny's munificent
friend; while Sir John, on receiving the invitation, only recollected,
on his part, the capricious insults he had sustained from his patron,
the loss of his hand, and the lightness with which he had treated the
subject, and the readiness with which Rothsay had abandoned his cause in
the matter of the bonnet maker's slaughter. He laughed bitterly when he
read the Prince's billet.

"Eviot," he said, "man a stout boat with six trusty men--trusty men,
mark me--lose not a moment, and bid Dwining instantly come hither.

"Heaven smiles on us, my trusty friend," he said to the mediciner. "I
was but beating my brains how to get access to this fickle boy, and here
he sends to invite me."

"Hem! I see the matter very clearly," said Dwining. "Heaven smiles on
some untoward consequences--he! he! he!"

"No matter, the trap is ready; and it is baited, too, my friend, with
what would lure the boy from a sanctuary, though a troop with drawn
weapons waited him in the churchyard. Yet is it scarce necessary.
His own weariness of himself would have done the job. Get thy matters
ready--thou goest with us. Write