ovel:--"How shall we get rid of this old fellow?"

"Here, father Adam," cried Taffril, who knew the mendicant of
yore--"here's half-a-crown for you. You must go to the Four Horse-shoes
yonder--the little inn, you know, and inquire for a servant with blue and
yellow livery. If he is not come, you'll wait for him, and tell him
we shall be with his master in about an hour's time. At any rate, wait
there till we come back,--and--Get off with you--Come, come, weigh anchor."

"I thank ye for your awmous," said Ochiltree, pocketing the piece of
money; "but I beg your pardon, Mr. Taffril--I canna gang your errand e'en
now."

"Why not, man? what can hinder you?"

"I wad speak a word wi' young Mr. Lovel."

"With me?" answered Lovel: "what would you say with me? Come, say on,
and be brief."

The mendicant led him a few paces aside. "Are ye indebted onything to
the Laird o' Monkbarns?"

"Indebted!--no, not I--what of that?--what makes you think so?"

"Ye maun ken I was at the shirra's the day; for, God help me, I gang
about a' gates like the troubled spirit; and wha suld come whirling
there in a post-chaise, but Monkbarns in an unco carfuffle--now, it's no
a little thing that will make his honour take a chaise and post-horse
twa days rinnin'."

"Well, well; but what is all this to me?"

"Ou, ye'se hear, ye'se hear. Weel, Monkbarns is closeted wi' the
shirra whatever puir folk may be left thereout--ye needna doubt that--the
gentlemen are aye unco civil amang themsells."

"For heaven's sake, my old friend"--

"Canna ye bid me gang to the deevil at ance, Mr. Lovel? it wad be mair
purpose fa'ard than to speak o' heaven in that impatient gate."

"But I have private business with Lieutenant Taffril here."

"Weel, weel, a' in gude time," said the beggar--"I can use a little
wee bit freedom wi' Mr. Daniel Taffril;--mony's the peery and the tap
I worked for him langsyne, for I was a worker in wood as weel as a
tinkler."

"You are either mad, Adam, or have a mind to drive me mad."

"Nane o' the twa," said Edie, suddenly changing his manner from the
protracted drawl of the mendicant to a brief and decided tone. "The
shirra sent for his clerk, and as the lad is rather light o' the tongue,
I fand it was for drawing a warrant to apprehend you--I thought it had
been on a fugie warrant for debt; for a' body kens the laird likes
naebody to pit his hand in his pouch--But now I may haud my tongue, for
I see the M'Intyre lad and Mr