CHAPTER XI.

Enter Time, as Chorus.

I-that please some, try all; both joy and terror
Of good and bad; that make and unfold error-
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me, or my swift passage, that I slide

O'er sixteen years, and leave the growth untried
Of that wide

gap.

Winter's Tale.

OUR narration is now about to make a large stride, and omit a space of nearly seventeen years; during which nothing occurred of any particular consequence with respect to the story we have undertaken to tell. The gap is a wide one; yet if the reader's experience in life enables him to look back on so many years, the space will scarce appear longer in his recollection, than the time consumed in turning these pages.

It was, then, in the month of November, about seventeen years after the catastrophe related in the last chapter, that, during a cold and stormy night, a social group had closed around the kitchen fire of the Gordons' Arms at Kippletringan, a small but comfortable inn, kept by

Mrs MacCandlish in that village. The conversation which passed among them will save me the trouble of telling the few events occurring during this chasm in our history, with which it is necessary that the reader should be acquainted.

Mrs MacCandlish, throned in a comfortable easy chair lined with black leather, was regaling herself, and a neighbouring gossip or two, with a cup of comfortable tea, and at the same time keeping a sharp eye upon her domestics, as they went and came in prosecution of their various duties and commissions. The clerk and precentor of the parish enjoyed at a little distance his Saturday night's pipe, and aided its bland fumigation by an occasional sip of brandy and water. Deacon Bearcliff, a man of great importance in the village, combined the indulgence of both parties—he had his pipe and his tea-cup, the latter being laced with a little brandy. One or two clowns sat at some distance, drinking their two-penny ale.

« Are ye sure the parlour's ready for them, and the fire burning clear, and the chimney no smoking?" said the hostess to a chambermaid.

She was answered in the affirmative. -(( Ane wadna be uncivil to them, especially in their distress," said she, turning to the Deacon.

K

Assuredly not, Mrs MacCandlish; assuredly not. I am sure ony small thing they might want frae my shop, under seven, or eight, or ten pounds, I would book them as readily for it as

the first in the country.-Do they come in the auld chaise ?>

<< I dare say no," said the precentor; « for Miss Bertram comes on the white poney ilka day to the kirk — and a constant kirk-keeper she isand it's a pleasure to hear her singing the psalms, winsome young thing.»

«Aye, and the young Laird of Hazlewood rides hame half the road wi' her after sermon,» said one of the gossips in company; «I wonder how auld Hazlewood likes that.">

« I kenna how he may like it now," answered another of the tea-drinkers; «but the day has been when Ellangowan wad hae liked as little to see his daughter taking up with their son.»>

Aye, has been,» answered the first with emphasis. — << I am sure, neighbour Ovens,» said the hostess, « the Hazlewoods of Hazlewood, though they're a very gude auld family in the county, never thought, till within these twa score o' years, of evening themselves till the Ellangowans -Wow, woman, the Bertrams of Ellangowan are the auld Dingawaies lang syne -there is a sang about ane o' them marrying a daughter of the King of Man; it begins,

Blithe Bertram's ta'en him ower the faem,
To wed a wife, and bring her hame

I dare say Mr Skriegh can sing us the ballant.» Good-wife," said Skriegh, gathering up his mouth, and sipping his tiff of brandy punch with

"

great solemnity, <<< our talents were given us to other use than to sing daft auld sangs sae near the Sabbath-day.»

« Hout fie, Mr Skriegh, I'se warrant I hae heard ye sing a blythe sang on Saturday at e’en -But as for the family carriage, Deacon, it has nae been out o' the coach-house since Mrs Bertram died, that's sixteen or seventeen years sin syne-Jock Jabos is away wi' a chaise of mine for them; I wonder he's no come back. It's pit mirk --but there's no an ill turn on the road but twa, and the brigg ower Warroch burn is safe eneugh, if he haud to the right side. But then there's Heavieside-brae, that's just a murder for post-cattle but Jock kens the road brawly."

A loud rapping was heard at the door.

That's no them. I dinna hear the wheels.Grizel, ye limmer, gang to the door."

К It's a single gentleman," whined out Grizel; << maun I take him into the parlour?>>

<< Foul be in your feet, than;-it'll be some English rider; coming without a servant at this time o' night! Has the ostler ta'en the horse? -Ye may light a spunk o' fire in the red room.», «I wish, ma'am,» said the traveller, entering the kitchen, «you would give me leave to warm myself here, for the night is very cold.»>

His appearance, voice, and manner, produced an instantaneous effect in his favour. He was a handsome tall thin figure, dressed in black, as appeared when he laid aside his riding coat; his

age might be between forty and fifty; his cast of features grave and interesting, and his air somewhat military. Every point of his appearance and address bespoke the gentleman. Long habit had given Mrs MacCandlish an acute tact in ascertaining the quality of her visitors, and proportioning her reception accordingly :

To every guest the appropriate speech was made,..
And every duty with distinction paid;

Respectful, easy, pleasant, or polite.

Your Honour's servant!-Mister Smith, good night."

On the present occasion, she was low in her curtsey, and profuse in her apologies. The stranger begged his horse might be attended to - she went out herself to school the hostler.

<< There was never a prettier bit o' horse-flesh in the stable o' the Gordon Arms," said the man; which information increased the landlady's respect for the rider. Upon the stranger declining to go into another apartment, (which indeed, she allowed, would be but cold and smoky till the fire burned up,) she installed her guest hospitably by the fire-side, and offered what refreshment her house afforded.

« A cup of your tea, ma'am, if you will favour

me."

Mrs MacCandlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot with hyson, and proceeded in her duties with her best grace. "We have a very nice parlour, sir, and every thing very agreeable for gentle-folks; but its bespoke the-night for a