CHAPTER VI. But if thou should'st be dragg'd in scorn Thou shalt not want one faithful friend PLUNGED into the gloomy reflections which were naturally excited by his dismal reading, and disconsolate situation, Bertram, for the first time in his life, felt himself affected with a disposition to low spirits. «< I have been in worse situations than this too," he said;--« more dangerous, for here is no danger; more dismal in prospect, for my present confinement must necessarily be short; more intolerable for the time, for here at least I have fire, food, and shelter. Yet, with reading these bloody tales of crime and misery, in a place so corresponding to the ideas which they excite, and in listening to these sad sounds, I feel a stronger disposition to melancholy than in my life I ever experienced. But I will not give way to it-Begone, thou record of guilt and infamy!" said he, flinging the book upon the spare bed; « a Scottish jail shall not break, on the very first day, the spirits which have resisted climate, and want, and penury, and disease, and imprisonment in a foreign land. I have fought many a hard battle with dame Fortune, and she shall not beat me now if I can help it.» Then bending his mind to a strong effort, he endeavoured to view his situation in the most favourable light. Delaserre must soon be in Scotland; the certificates from his commanding officer must soon arrive; nay, if Mannering were first applied to, who could say but the effect might be a reconciliation between them? He had often observed, and now remembered, that when his former colonel took the part of any one, it was never by halves, and that he seemed to love those persons most who had lain under obligation to him. In the present case, a favour, which could be asked with honour and granted with readiness, might be the means of reconciling them to each other. From this his feelings naturally turned towards Julia, and without very nicely measuring the distance between a soldier of fortune, who expected that her father's attestation would deliver him from confinement, and the heiress of that father's wealth and expectations, he was building the gayest castle in the clouds, and varnishing it with all the tints of a summer-evening sky, when his labour was interrupted by a loud knocking at the outer gate, answered by the barking of the half-starved mastiff, which was quartered at night in the courtyard as an addition to the garrison. After much scrupulous precaution the gate was opened, and some person admitted. The house door was next unbarred, unlocked, and unchained, a dog's feet pattered up stairs in great haste, and the animal was heard scratching and whining at the door of the room. Next a heavy step was heard lumbering up, and MacGuffog's voice in the character of pilot-« This way, this way; take care of the step;-that's the room.» -Bertram's door was then unbolted, and to his great surprise and joy, his terrier, Wasp, rushed into the room, and almost devoured him with caresses, followed by the massy form of his friend from Charlies-hope. << Eh whow! Eh whow!» ejaculated the honest farmer, as he looked round upon his friend's miserable apartment and wretched accommodation -«What's this o't! what's this o't!» << Just a trick of fortune, my good friend,» said Bertram, rising and shaking him heartily by the hand, that's all.» « But what will be done about it?—or what can be done about it?-is't for debt, or what is't for?" "Why, it is not for debt; and if you have time. to sit down, I'll tell you all I know of the mat ter." « If I hae time?—ou, what the deevil am I come here for, man, but just ance errand to see about it? but ye'll no be the waur o' something to eat, I trow;—it's getting late at e'en-I tell'd the folk at the change where I put up Dumple, to send ower my supper here, and the chield MacGuffog is agreeable to let it in -I hae settled a' that--and now let's hear your story-whisht, Wasp, man! wow but he's glad to see "you, poor thing!" Bertram's story, being confined to the accident of Hazlewood, and the confusion made between his own identity and that of one of the smugglers, who had been active in the assault of Woodbourne, and chanced to bear the same name, was soon told. Dinmont listened very attentively. « Aweel," he said, « this suld be nae sick dooms-desperate business surely-the lad's doing weel again that was hurt, and what signifies twa or three lead-draps in his shouther? if ye had putten out his e'e it would hae been another case. But eh, as I wuss auld Sherra Pleydell was to the fore here!-odd, he was the man for sorting them, and the queerest rough-spoken deevil too that ever ye heard!» did « But now tell me, my excellent friend, how you find out I was here?» «Odd, lad, queerly enough; but I'll tell ye that after we are done wi' our supper, for it will maybe no be sae weel to speak about it while that lang-lugged limmer o' a lass is gaun flisking in and out o' the room. >> Bertram's curiosity was in some degree put to rest by the appearance of the supper which his friend had ordered, which, although homely enough, had the appetizing cleanliness in which Mrs MacGuffog's cookery was so eminently deficient. Dinmont also, premising he had ridden the whole day since breakfast time, without tasting any thing « to speak of," which qualifying phrase related to about three pounds of cold roast mutton which he had discussed at his midday stage,-Dinmont, I say, fell stoutly upon the good cheer, and, like one of Homer's heroes, said little, either good or bad, till the rage of thirst and hunger was appeased. At length, after a draught of home-brewed ale, he began by observing, Aweel, aweel, that hen,» looking upon the lamentable reliques of what had been once a large fowl, << was na a bad ane to be bred at a town-end, though it's no like our barn-door chuckies at Charlies-hope-and I am glad to see that this vexing job has no ta'en awa' your appetite, Captain."> Why, really, my dinner was not so excellent, Mr Dinmont, as to spoil my supper.»> << I dare say no, I dare say no: But now hinny, that ye hae brought us the brandy and the mug wi' the het water, and the sugar, and a' right, ye may steek the door, ye see, for we wad hae some o' our ain cracks." The damsel accordingly retired, and shut the door of the apartment, to which she added the precaution of drawing a large bolt on the outside. So soon as she was gone Dandie reconnoitred the premises, listened at the key-hole as if he had been listening for the blowing of an otter, and having satisfied himself that there were no eves-droppers, returned to the table, and making himself what he called a gay stiff cheerer, poked |