and thoughtful.
Could I have again been for a season in utter oblivion to myself, and
transacting business which I neither approved of nor had any connection
with! I tried to recollect something in which I might have been
engaged, but nothing was portrayed on my mind subsequent to the parting
with my friends at a late hour the evening before. The evening before
it certainly was: but, if so, how came it that Andrew Handyside, who
served at table that evening, should have been in his grave six months!
This was a circumstance somewhat equivocal; therefore, being afraid to
arise lest accusations of I know not what might come against me, I was
obliged to call once more in order to come at what intelligence I
could. The same fellow appeared to receive my orders as before, and I
set about examining him with regard to particulars. He told me his name
was Scrape; that I hired him myself; of whom I hired him; and at whose
recommendation I smiled, and nodded so as to let the knave see I
understood he was telling me a chain of falsehoods, but did not choose
to begin with any violent asseverations to the contrary.

"And where is my noble friend and companion?" said I. "How has he been
engaged in the interim?"

"I dinna ken him, sir," said Scrape, "but have heard it said that the
strange mysterious person that attended you, him that the maist part of
folks countit uncanny, had gane awa wi' a Mr. Ringan o' Glasko last
year, and had never returned."

I thanked the Lord in my heart for this intelligence, hoping that the
illustrious stranger had returned to his own land and people, and that
I should thenceforth be rid of his controlling and appalling presence.
"And where is my mother?" said, I. The man's breath cut short, and he
looked at me without returning any answer.--"I ask you where my mother
is?" said I.

"God only knows, and not I, where she is," returned he. "He knows where
her soul is, and, as for her body, if you dinna ken something o' it, I
suppose nae man alive does."

"What do you mean, you knave?" said I. "What dark hints are these you
are throwing out? Tell me precisely and distinctly what you know of my
mother?"

"It is unco queer o' ye to forget, or pretend to forget everything that
gate the day, sir," said he. "I'm sure you heard enough about it
yestreen; an' I can tell you there are some gayan ill-faurd stories
gaun about that business. But, as the thing is to be tried afore the
circuit lords, it wad be far wr