n our last CHAPTER, Mr.
Oldbuck, descending to his breakfast-parlour, found that his womankind
were not upon duty, his toast not made, and the silver jug, which was
wont to receive his libations of mum, not duly aired for its reception.

"This confounded hot-brained boy!" he said to himself; "now that he
begins to get out of danger, I can tolerate this life no longer. All
goes to sixes and sevens--an universal saturnalia seems to be proclaimed
in my peaceful and orderly family. I ask for my sister--no answer. I
call, I shout--I invoke my inmates by more names than the Romans gave
to their deities--at length Jenny, whose shrill voice I have heard this
half-hour lilting in the Tartarean regions of the kitchen, condescends
to hear me and reply, but without coming up stairs, so the conversation
must be continued at the top of my lungs. "--Here he again began to
hollow aloud--"Jenny, where's Miss Oldbuck?"

"Miss Grizzy's in the captain's room."

"Umph!--I thought so--and where's my niece?"

"Miss Mary's making the captain's tea."

"Umph! I supposed as much again--and where's Caxon?"

"Awa to the town about the captain's fowling-gun, and his setting-dog."

"And who the devil's to dress my periwig, you silly jade?--when you knew
that Miss Wardour and Sir Arthur were coming here early after breakfast,
how could you let Caxon go on such a Tomfool's errand?"

"Me! what could I hinder him?--your honour wadna hae us contradict the
captain e'en now, and him maybe deeing?"

"Dying!" said the alarmed Antiquary,--"eh! what? has he been worse?"

"Na, he's no nae waur that I ken of."*

* It is, I believe, a piece of free-masonry, or a point of conscience,
among the Scottish lower orders, never to admit that a patient is doing
better. The closest approach to recovery which they can be brought to
allow, is, that the pairty inquired after is "Nae waur."

"Then he must be better--and what good is a dog and a gun to do here, but
the one to destroy all my furniture, steal from my larder, and perhaps
worry the cat, and the other to shoot somebody through the head. He
has had gunning and pistolling enough to serve him one while, I should
think."

Here Miss Oldbuck entered the parlour, at the door of which Oldbuck was
carrying on this conversation, he bellowing downward to Jenny, and she
again screaming upward in reply.

"Dear brother," said the old lady, "ye'll cry yoursell as hoarse as
a corbie--is that the way to skreigh when