is request that he
would help him to an interview with Dirk Hatteraick. 'Impossible! utterly
impossible! it's contrary to the express orders of Mr. Mac-Morlan, and
the captain (as the head jailor of a county jail is called in Scotland)
would never forgie me.'

'But why should he know of it?' said Glossin, slipping a couple of
guineas into Mac-Guffog's hand.

The turnkey weighed the gold and looked sharp at Glossin. 'Ay, ay, Mr.
Glossin, ye ken the ways o' this place. Lookee, at lock-up hour I'll
return and bring ye upstairs to him. But ye must stay a' night in his
cell, for I am under needcessity to carry the keys to the captain for the
night, and I cannot let you out again until morning; then I'll visit the
wards half an hour earlier than usual, and ye may get out and be snug in
your ain birth when the captain gangs his rounds.'

When the hour of ten had pealed from the neighbouring steeple Mac-Guffog
came prepared with a small dark lantern. He said softly to Glossin, 'Slip
your shoes off and follow me.' When Glossin was out of the door,
Mac-Guffog, as if in the execution of his ordinary duty, and speaking to
a prisoner within, called aloud, 'Good-night to you, sir,' and locked the
door, clattering the bolts with much ostentatious noise. He then guided
Glossin up a steep and narrow stair, at the top of which was the door of
the condemned ward; he unbarred and unlocked it, and, giving Glossin the
lantern, made a sign to him to enter, and locked the door behind him with
the same affected accuracy.

In the large dark cell into which he was thus introduced Glossin's feeble
light for some time enabled him to discover nothing. At length he could
dimly distinguish the pallet-bed stretched on the floor beside the great
iron bar which traversed the room, and on that pallet reposed the figure
of a man. Glossin approached him. 'Dirk Hatteraick!'

'Donner and hagel! it is his voice,' said the prisoner, sitting up and
clashing his fetters as he rose; 'then my dream is true! Begone, and
leave me to myself; it will be your best.'

'What! my good friend,' said Glossin, 'will you allow the prospect of a
few weeks' confinement to depress your spirit?'

'Yes,' answered the ruffian, sullenly, 'when I am only to be released by
a halter! Let me alone; go about your business, and turn the lamp from my
face!'

'Psha! my dear Dirk, don't be afraid,' said Glossin; 'I have a glorious
plan to make all right.'

'To the bottomless pit wi