landsmen in their presence; and neither respect, nor a sense of humiliation, are feelings easily combined with a familiar fondness towards those who inspire them. But the boyish frolics, the exulting high spirits, the unreflecting mirth of a sailor, when enjoying himself on shore, temper the more formidable points of his character. There was nothing like these in this man's face; on the contrary, a surly and even savage scowl appeared to darken features which would have been harsh and unpleasant under any expression or modification. "Where are you, Mother Deyvilson?" he said, with somewhat of a foreign accent, though speaking perfectly good English. "Donner and blitzen! we have been staying this half-hour.-Come, bless the good ship and the voyage, and be cursed to ye for a hag of Satan!"

At this moment he noticed Mannering, who, from the position which he had taken to watch Meg Merrilies's incantations, had the appearance of some one who was concealing himself, being half hidden by the buttress behind which he stood. The Captain, for such he styled himself, made a sudden and startled pause, and thrust his right hand into his bosom, between his jacket and waistcoat, as if to draw some weapon. "What cheer, brother?-you seem on the outlook-eh?"

Ere Mannering, somewhat struck by the man's gesture and insolent tone of voice, had made any answer, the gipsy emerged from her vault and joined the stranger. He questioned her in an undertone, looking at Mannering-"A shark alongside; eh?"

She answered in the same tone of under-dialogue, using the cant language of her tribe-" Cut ben whids, and stow them— a gentry cove of the ken."1

The fellow's cloudy visage cleared up. "The top of the morning to you, sir; I find you are a visitor of my friend Mr. Bertram-I beg pardon, but I took you for another sort of a person."

Mannering replied, "And you, sir, I presume, are the master of that vessel in the bay?"

66

Ay, ay, sir; I am Captain Dirk Hatteraick, of the Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, well known on this coast; I am not ashamed of my name, nor of my vessel,-no, nor of my cargo neither, for that matter."

1 Meaning: Stop your uncivil language-that is a gentleman from the house below.

"I dare say you have no reason, sir."

"Tousand donner-no; I'm all in the way of fair tradeJust loaded yonder at Douglas, in the Isle of Man-neat cogniac-real hyson and souchong-Mechlin lace, if you want any-Right cogniac-We bumped ashore a hundred kegs last night."

"Really, sir, I am only a traveller, and have no sort of occasion for anything of the kind at present."

"Why, then, good morning to you, for business must be minded-unless ye'll go aboard and take schnaps1-you shall have a pouch-full of tea ashore.-Dirk Hatteraick knows how to be civil."

A very

There was a mixture of impudence, hardihood, and suspicious fear about this man, which was inexpressibly disgusting. His manners were those of a ruffian, conscious of the suspicion attending his character, yet aiming to bear it down by the affectation of a careless and hardy familiarity. Mannering briefly rejected his proffered civilities; and after a surly good morning, Hatteraick retired with the gipsy to that part of the ruins from which he had first made his appearance. narrow staircase here went down to the beach, intended probably for the convenience of the garrison during a siege. By this stair, the couple, equally amiable in appearance, and respectable by profession, descended to the seaside. The soi-distant captain embarked in a small boat with two men who appeared to wait for him, and the gipsy remained on the shore, reciting or singing, and gesticulating with great vehemence.

WHEN the boat which carried the worthy captain on board his vessel had accomplished that task, the sails began to ascend, and the ship was got under way. She fired three guns as a salute to the house of Ellangowan, and then shot away

1 A dram of liquor.

rapidly before the wind, which blew off shore, under all the sail she could crowd.

'Ay, ay," said the Laird, who had sought Mannering for some time, and now joined him, "there they go there go the free-traders-there go Captain Dirk Hatteraick, and the Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, half Manks, half Dutchman, half devil! run out the boltsprit, up main-sail, top and top-gallant sails, royals, and skyscrapers, and away-follow who can! That fellow, Mr. Mannering, is the terror of all the excise and custom-house cruisers; they can make nothing of him; he drubs them, or he distances them ;—and, speaking of excise, I come to bring you to breakfast; and you shall have some tea, that

Mannering, by this time, was aware that one thought linked strangely on to another in the concatenation of worthy Mr. Bertram's ideas,

Like orient pearls at random strung;

and, therefore, before the current of his associations had drifted farther from the point he had left, he brought him back by some inquiry about Dirk Hatteraick.

"O he's a-a-gude sort of blackguard fellow eneugh— naebody cares to trouble him-smuggler, when his guns are in ballast-privateer, or pirate faith, when he gets them mounted. He has done more mischief to the revenue folk than ony rogue that ever came out of Ramsay."

But, my good sir, such being his character, I wonder he has any protection and encouragement on this coast."

Why, Mr. Mannering, people must have brandy and tea, and there's none in the country but what comes this wayand then there's short accounts, and maybe a keg or two, or a dozen pounds left at your stable door, instead of a d-d lang account at Christmas from Duncan Robb, the grocer at Kippletringan, who has aye a sum to make up, and either wants ready money, or a short-dated bill. Now, Hatteraick will take wood, or he'll take bark, or he'll take barley, or he'll take just what's convenient at the time. I'll tell you a gude story about that. There was ance a laird-that's Macfie of Gudgeonford, he had a great number of kain hens-that's hens that the tenant pays to the landlord-like a sort of rent in kind-they aye feed mine very ill; Luckie Finniston sent up three that were a shame to be seen only last week, and yet she has twelve bows sowing of victual; indeed her goodman,

Duncan Finniston-that's him that's gone-(we must all die, Mr. Mannering; that's ower true)—and speaking of that, let us live in the meanwhile, for here's breakfast on the table, and the Dominie ready to say the grace."

The Dominie did accordingly pronounce a benediction, that exceeded in length any speech which Mannering had yet heard him utter. The tea, which of course belonged to the noble Captain Hatteraick's trade, was pronounced excellent. Still Mannering hinted, though with due delicacy, at the risk of encouraging such desperate characters: "Were it but in justice to the revenue, I should have supposed

"

'Ah, the revenue-lads "-for Mr. Bertram never embraced a general or abstract idea, and his notion of the revenue was personified in the commissioners, surveyors, comptrollers, and riding officers, whom he happened to know-"the revenuelads can look sharp eneugh out for themselves-no one needs to help them-and they have a' the soldiers to assist them besides-and as to justice-you'll be surprised to hear it, Mr. Mannering-but I am not a justice of peace."

Mannering assumed the expected look of surprise, but thought within himself that the worshipful bench suffered no great deprivation from wanting the assistance of his goodhumoured landlord. Mr. Bertram had now hit upon one of the few subjects on which he felt sore, and went on with some energy.

"No, sir,—the name of Godfrey Bertram of Ellangowan is not in the last commission, though there's scarce a carle in the country that has a plough-gate of land, but what he must ride to quarter-sessions, and write J.P. after his name. I ken fu' weel whom I am obliged to-Sir Thomas Kittlecourt as good as tell'd me he would sit in my skirts, if he had not my interest at the last election; and because I chose to go with my own blood and third cousin, the Laird of Balruddery, they keepit me off the roll of freeholders; and now there comes a new nomination of justices, and I am left out! And whereas they pretend it was because I let David Mac-Guffog, the constable, draw the warrants, and manage the business his ain gait, as if I had been a nose o' wax, it's a main untruth; for I granted but seven warrants in my life, and the Dominie wrote every one of them—and if it had not been that unlucky business of Sandy Mac-Gruthar's, that the constables should have keepit twa or three days up yonder at the auld castle, just till they could get conveniency to send him to the county

jail-and that cost me eneugh o' siller-But I ken what Sir Thomas wants very weel-it was just sic and siclike about the seat in the kirk o' Kilmagirdle-was I not entitled to have the front gallery facing the minister, rather than Mac-Crosskie of Creochstone, the son of Deacon Mac-Crosskie, the Dumfries weaver?"

Mannering expressed his acquiescence in the justice of these various complaints.

"And then, Mr. Mannering, there was the story about the road, and the fauld-dike—I ken Sir Thomas was behind there, and I said plainly to the clerk to the trustees that I saw the cloven foot, let them take that as they like.-Would any gentleman, or set of gentlemen, go and drive a road right through the corner of a fauld-dike, and take away, as my agent observed to them, like twa roods of gude moorland pasture?—And there was the story about choosing the collector of the cess

'Certainly, sir, it is hard you should meet with any neglect in a country, where, to judge from the extent of their residence, your ancestors must have made a very important figure."

Very true, Mr. Mannering-I am a plain man, and do not dwell on these things; and I must needs say, I have little memory for them; but I wish ye could have heard my father's stories about the auld fights of the Mac-Dingawaies-that's the Bertrams that now is-wi' the Irish, and wi' the Highlanders, that came here in their berlings from Ilay and Cantire -and how they went to the Holy Land—that is, to Jerusalem and Jericho, wi' a' their clan at their heels-they had better have gaen to Jamaica, like Sir Thomas Kittlecourt's uncleand how they brought hame relics, like those that Catholics have, and a flag that's up yonder in the garret-if they had been casks of Muscavado, and puncheons of rum, it would have been better for the estate at this day-but there's little comparison between the auld keep at Kittlecourt and the castle o' Ellangowan-I doubt if the keep's forty feet of front -But ye make no breakfast, Mr. Mannering; ye're no eating your meat; allow me to recommend some of the kipper-It was John Hay that catcht it, Saturday was three weeks, down at the stream below Hempseed ford," &c., &c., &c.

The Laird, whose indignation had for some time kept him pretty steady to one topic, now launched forth into his usual roving style of conversation, which gave Mannering ample time to reflect upon the disadvantages attending the situation,