Consternation was general; advice was
sought from the law officers of the Crown, and it was found that they
had all retired to Dunbar. The Provost was not above suspicion. His
surname was Stuart; no Scotsman could believe that he really meant to
oppose the chief of his name.

[Illustration: 'In many a panelled parlour']

On Sunday, as the townsfolk were at church about eleven o'clock, the
firebell rang out its note of alarm, scattering the congregation into
the streets. It was the signal for the mustering of the volunteers. The
officer in command at the Castle was sending the dragoons from Leith to
reinforce Gardiner at Corstorphine, and the volunteers were ordered to
accompany them. They were standing in rank in the High Street, when the
dragoons rattled up the Canongate at a hard trot; as they passed they
saluted their brothers in arms with drawn swords and loud huzzas, then
swept down the West Bow and out at the West Port. For a moment military
ardour seized the volunteers, but the lamentations and tears of their
wives and children soon softened their mood again. A group of Jacobite
ladies in a balcony mocked and derided the civic warriors, but had
finally to close their windows to prevent stones being hurled at them.

One of the volunteer companies was composed of University students.
Among them was, doubtless, more than one stout young heart, eager for
fame and fighting, but most were more at home with their books than
their broadswords. 'Oh, Mr. Hew, Mr. Hew,' whispered one youth to his
comrade, 'does not this remind you of the passage in Livy where the Gens
of the Fabii marched out of the city, and the matrons and maids of Rome
were weeping and wringing their hands?' 'Hold your tongue,' said Mr.
Hew, affecting a braver spirit, 'you'll discourage the men.' 'Recollect
the end, Mr. Hew,' persisted his trembling comrade; '_they all perished
to a man!_' This was not destined to be the fate of the Edinburgh
volunteers. On the march down the West Bow, one by one they stole off,
up the narrow wynds and doorways, till by the time they reached the West
Port, only the student corps remained, and even its ranks were sadly
thinned. The remnant were easily persuaded that their lives were too
precious to their country to be rashly thrown away, and quietly marched
back to the college yards.

There was no alarm that night. At one o'clock the Provost, accompanied
by a few of the city guard, carrying a lantern before him, visit