nds with the factor, and was about to bid him "good night,"
Andrew Sharp, who stood waiting with the horse, heard the latter
say--"Well, I think we have it after all. I shall delay matters as long
as I can, and then write, recommending farther delay; this will give us
time to do something, and, if I am not deceived, both will be yours in
the end."

The oracular words "do something," and "both will be yours," made an
impression on Andrew's mind. When he reflected on the expiration of the
leases, the character of his master, and the surmises which he had
heard, he felt convinced that the first part of the factor's speech had
a reference to the farms, while the last part of it implied some plot,
which was hatching, to forward their schemes. This conviction suggested
the probability that William Chrighton would not be allowed to remain in
Sunnybraes; and, as his removal must be attended with the removal of
Catherine Roger, to he knew not how great a distance, he felt somewhat
spiritless and disconcerted. Time seemed to stand still; and, after
ruminating for a season on the means of averting such a misfortune, he
took a pair of stockings, and, having placed them on the hearthstone of
his bothie--no one being present--he proceeded to pound that part of
them called the _heels_ with the head of the poker. By this means, he
soon produced something very like a worn hole in each; and then, taking
them under his arm, and putting a quantity of worsted into his pocket,
he set off to Sunnybraes to get them darned. When there, as his
"dulness" did not leave him so quickly as he had anticipated, and as he
was, moreover, loath to sit silent in the presence of one whose good
opinion he was so anxious to procure, while Elspeth was darning the
stockings, he told Catherine the whole story--what he had heard the
factor say, and the conclusions and inferences which he had drawn
therefrom--taking care, however, neither to mention his "dulness," nor
the manner in which he had produced the holes in the heels of his
stockings.

"Weel, lassie," said Elspeth when he was gone, "frae what we ken aboot
Mr. Black, the thing's clear enough. He's lookin after Sunnybraes for
his muckle gomeril o' a son; an', if Gavin Goosequill can get it for
him, by hook or by crook, by lies or by true tales, he'll no want it
lang. The hens, an' the jucks, an' the geese, an' the turkeys, that gaed
frae Nettlebank, hae done their _errand_ weel enough, I warrant them;
an'