npleasing, though obvious topic of consolation,
that an unfrequented inn is little exposed to the accidents she
apprehended. On the contrary, he condoled with her very cordially, and
went so far as to hint, that if Mr. Touchwood had come to Marchthorn
with post-horses, as he supposed from his dress, she could have the
advantage of them to return with more despatch to St. Ronan's.

"I am not sure," said Mr. Touchwood, suddenly, "but I may return there
myself. In that case I will be glad to set this good lady down, and to
stay a few days at her house if she will receive me.--I respect a woman
like you, ma'am, who pursue the occupation of your father--I have been
in countries, ma'am, where people have followed the same trade, from
father to son, for thousands of years--And I like the fashion--it shows
a steadiness and sobriety of character."

Mrs. Dods put on a joyous countenance at this proposal, protesting that
all should be done in her power to make things agreeable; and while her
good friend, Mr. Bindloose, expatiated upon the comfort her new guest
would experience at the Cleikum, she silently contemplated with delight
the prospect of a speedy and dazzling triumph, by carrying off a
creditable customer from her showy and successful rival at the Well.

"I shall be easily accommodated, ma'am," said the stranger; "I have
travelled too much and too far to be troublesome. A Spanish venta, a
Persian khan, or a Turkish caravanserail, is all the same to me--only,
as I have no servant--indeed, never can be plagued with one of these
idle loiterers,--I must beg you will send to the Well for a bottle of
the water on such mornings as I cannot walk there myself--I find it is
really of some service to me."

Mrs. Dods readily promised compliance with this reasonable request;
graciously conceding, that there "could be nae ill in the water itsell,
but maybe some gude--it was only the New Inn, and the daft haverils that
they caa'd the Company, that she misliked. Folk had a jest that St.
Ronan dookit the Deevil in the Waal, which garr'd it taste aye since of
brimstane--but she dared to say that was a' papist nonsense, for she was
tell't by him that kend weel, and that was the minister himsell, that
St. Ronan was nane of your idolatrous Roman saunts, but a Chaldee,"
(meaning probably a Culdee,) "whilk was doubtless a very different
story."

Matters being thus arranged to the satisfaction of both parties, the
post-chaise was ordered, a