for hanging back. The
stairs were dark, narrow, and steep; but the Sheriff piloted the way,
and at length there were as many on the top as it could well afford
footing for. Nothing could be more lovely than the panorama; all the
harsher and more naked features being lost in the delicious moonlight;
the Tweed and the Gala winding and sparkling beneath our feet; and the
distant ruins of Melrose appearing, as if carved of alabaster, under
the black mass of the Eildons. The poet, leaning on his battlement,
seemed to hang over the beautiful vision as if he had never seen it
before. "If I live," he exclaimed, "I will build me a higher tower,
with a more spacious platform, and a staircase better fitted for an
old fellow's scrambling." The piper was heard re-tuning his instrument
below, and he called to him for Lochaber no More. John of Skye obeyed,
and as the music rose, softened by {p.280} the distance, Scott
repeated in a low key the melancholy words of the song of exile.

On descending from the tower, the whole company were assembled in the
new dining-room, which was still under the hands of the carpenters,
but had been brilliantly illuminated for the occasion. Mr. Bruce took
his station, and old and young danced reels to his melodious
accompaniment until they were weary, while Scott and the Dominie
looked on with gladsome faces, and beat time now and then, the one
with his staff, the other with his wooden leg. A tray with mulled wine
and whiskey punch was then introduced, and Lord Melville proposed a
bumper, with all the honors, to the _Roof-tree_. Captain Ferguson
having sung Johnnie Cope, called on the young ladies for Kenmure's On
and Awa'; and our host then insisted that the whole party should join,
standing in a circle hand-in-hand _more majorum_, in the hearty chorus
of

"Weel may we a' be,
Ill may we never see,
God bless the king and the gude companie!"

--which being duly performed, all dispersed. Such was _the handsel_
(for Scott protested against its being considered as _the
house-heating_) of the new Abbotsford.

When I began this chapter, I thought it would be a short one, but it
is surprising how, when one digs into his memory, the smallest details
of a scene that was interesting at the time, shall by degrees come to
light again. I now recall, as if I had seen and heard them yesterday,
the looks and words of eighteen years ago. Awakening between six and
seven next morning, I heard Scott's voice c