ragoons requests the
pleasure of sharing a stoup of wine with him."

"Sir, it mattereth little whether ye give your name or no," replied the
host bitterly; "for we are a' nameless now. Twelve months ago we were
true Scottish men, but _now_--"

"Our king is an exile--our crown is buried for ever, and our brave
soldiers are banished to far and foreign wars, while the grass is
growing green in the streets of our capital--ay, green as it is at this
hour in your burgh of Crail; but hence to the stranger; yet say not,"
added the traveller, bitterly and proudly, "that in his warmth the
Scottish cavalier has betrayed himself."

While the speaker amused himself with examining a printed proclamation
concerning the "Tiend Commissioners and Transplantation off Paroch
Kirkis," which was pasted over the stone mantelpiece of the bar, the
landlord returned with the foreign gentleman's thanks, and an invitation
to his chamber, whither the Major immediately repaired; following the
host up a narrow stone spiral stair to a snugly wainscotted room,
against the well-grated windows of which a sudden shower was now
beginning to patter.

The foreigner, who was supping on a Crail-capon (in other words a
broiled haddock) and stoup of Bourdeaux wine, arose at their entrance,
and bowed with, an air that was undisguisedly continental. He was a man
above six feet, with a long straight nose, over which his dark eyebrows
met and formed one unbroken line. He wore a suit of green Genoese
velvet, so richly laced that little of the cloth was visible; a
full-bottomed wig, and a small corslet of the brightest steel (over
which hung the ends of his cravat), as well as a pair of silver-mounted
cavalry pistols that lay on the table, together with his unmistakable
bearing, decided the Major of Orkney's that the stranger was a brother
of the sword.

"Fair sir, little introduction is necessary between us, as, I believe,
we have both followed the drum in our time," said the Major, shaking the
curls of his Ramillie wig with the air of a man who has decided on what
he says.

"I _have_ served, Monsieur," replied the foreigner, "under Marlborough
and Eugene."

"Ah! in French Flanders? Landlord--gudeman, harkee; a double stoup of
this wine; I have found a comrade to-night--be quick and put my horse to
stall, I will not ride hence for an hour or so. What regiment, sir?"

"I was first under Grouvestien in the Horse of Driesberg."

"Then you were on the left of