pily here having me to command you, instead of Captain, or
Colonel, or Knight in Arms,' as Milton has it; and instead of the
French," he continued, relapsing into his ironical humour, "you have the
Gens humida ponti--for, as Virgil says,

Sternunt se somno diversae in littore phocae;

which might be rendered,

Here phocae slumber on the beach,
Within our Highland Hector's reach.

Nay, if you grow angry, I have done. Besides, I see old Edie in the
court-yard, with whom I have business. Good-bye, Hector--Do you remember
how she splashed into the sea like her master Proteus, et se jactu dedit
aequor in altum?"

M'Intyre,--waiting, however, till the door was shut,--then gave way to the
natural impatience of his temper.

"My uncle is the best man in the world, and in his way the kindest; but
rather than hear any more about that cursed phoca, as he is pleased to
call it, I would exchange for the West Indies, and never see his face
again."

Miss M'Intyre, gratefully attached to her uncle, and passionately
fond of her brother, was, on such occasions, the usual envoy of
reconciliation. She hastened to meet her uncle on his return, before he
entered the parlour.

"Well, now, Miss Womankind, what is the meaning of that imploring
countenance?--has Juno done any more mischief?"

"No, uncle; but Juno's master is in such fear of your joking him about
the seal--I assure you, he feels it much more than you would wish;--it's
very silly of him, to be sure; but then you can turn everybody so
sharply into ridicule"--

"Well, my dear," answered Oldbuck, propitiated by the compliment, "I
will rein in my satire, and, if possible, speak no more of the phoca--I
will not even speak of sealing a letter, but say umph, and give a nod
to you when I want the wax-light--I am not monitoribus asper, but, Heaven
knows, the most mild, quiet, and easy of human beings, whom sister,
niece, and nephew, guide just as best pleases them."

With this little panegyric on his own docility, Mr. Oldbuck entered the
parlour, and proposed to his nephew a walk to the Mussel-crag. "I
have some questions to ask of a woman at Mucklebackit's cottage," he
observed, "and I would willingly have a sensible witness with me--so, for
fault of a better, Hector, I must be contented with you."

"There is old Edie, sir, or Caxon--could not they do better than me?"
answered M'Intyre, feeling somewhat alarmed at the prospe