oice), I was gaun to come out wi'--since I rode whip
and spur to fetch the Chevalier to redd Mr. Wauverley and Vich lan Vohr;
and an uncanny coup I gat for my pains. Lord forgie your honour! I might
hae broken my neck; but troth it was in a venture, mae ways nor ane; but
this maks amends for a'. Lady Wauverley! ten thousand a year! Lord be
gude unto me!'

'But you forget, Mr. Macwheeble, we want the Baron's consent--the
lady's--'

'Never fear, I'se be caution for them; I'se gie you my personal
warrandice. Ten thousand a year! it dings Balmawhapple out and out--a
year's rent's worth a' Balmawhapple, fee and life-rent! Lord make us
thankful!'

To turn the current of his feelings, Edward inquired if he had heard
anything lately of the Chieftain of Glennaquoich.

'Not one word,' answered Macwheeble, 'but that he was still in Carlisle
Castle, and was soon to be panelled for his life. I dinna wish the young
gentleman ill,' he said, 'but I hope that they that hae got him will keep
him, and no let him back to this Hieland border to plague us wi'
black-mail and a' manner o' violent, wrongous, and masterfu' oppression
and spoliation, both by himself and others of his causing, sending, and
hounding out; and he couldna tak care o' the siller when he had gotten it
neither, but flung it a' into yon idle quean's lap at Edinburgh; but
light come light gane. For my part, I never wish to see a kilt in the
country again, nor a red-coat, nor a gun, for that matter, unless it were
to shoot a paitrick; they're a' tarr'd wi' ae stick. And when they have
done ye wrang, even when ye hae gotten decreet of spuilzie, oppression,
and violent profits against them, what better are ye? They hae na a plack
to pay ye; ye need never extract it.'

With such discourse, and the intervening topics of business, the time
passed until dinner, Macwheeble meanwhile promising to devise some mode
of introducing Edward at the Duchran, where Rose at present resided,
without risk of danger or suspicion; which seemed no very easy task,
since the laird was a very zealous friend to government. The poultry-yard
had been laid under requisition, and cockyleeky and Scotch collops soon
reeked in the Bailie's little parlour. The landlord's cork-screw was just
introduced into the muzzle of a pint bottle of claret (cribbed possibly
from the cellars of Tully-Veolan), when the sight of the grey pony
passing the window at full trot induced the Bailie, but with due
precaution,