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Engrabings on Steel.

Subject. Drawn by Engraved by A Forfeit! a forfeit! W. Kidd. J. Mitchell. Frontispiece The Prison Cell. A. Cooper, R.A. J. C. Edwards. Vignette

Engrabings on wood.

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Drawn by Attack on Woodbourne

Sargent. Dead Smuggler

Fussell Curling Implements

Dickes Glossin and Mrs. Mac-Candlish. Meadows Mac-Guffog

Glencaple — The Portanferry of
the Tale. Skene .

Monument on Rullion Green. . Paton
Cleriheugh's Tavern, Writers'
Court, Edinburgh

Portrait of the late Andrew

Crosby, Advocate, the Coun-
sellor Pleydell of the Tale.
From the Advocate's Library,


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Drawn by Engraved by Page Dr. Erskine


Evans 111 Mr. Protocol reading Mrs. Bertram's Will

Meadows Linton 112 Dr. Robertson


Rimbault 126 Group of Portraits—Adam Smith;

David Hume; John Home;
Lord Kaimes; Dr. Hutton;

Dr. Ferguson ; Dr. Black Dickes Bastin 130 Allonby, Cumberland

Blacklock. Evans 144 Carlaverock Castle, Interior . Skene

Branston. 160 Girl Washing.

F. Mac-Ian. Miss Clark 161 Lincluden House, Dumfriesshire Paton Evans 169 Terriers

T, Landseer Green. 191 Mrs. Mac-Guffog

Meadows Linton 192 Lock and Key of Selkirk Jail. Abbotsford.

Dickes Swain . 203 Dinmont visiting Bertrain in the Prison

Buss. Jackson. 208 The Dominie and Meg Merrilies Leslie Walmsley 228 The Attack on Portanferry Sargent . Evans 256 Lord Monboddo . .

Kay. Sly 274 Recognition of Harry Bertram Buss . Jackson . 275 Colonel Mannering and Daughter Buss . Smith & Linton 292 Torr's Cave, Coast of Galloway. Skene Jones . . 329 Meg Merrilies dead.

Lauder Thompson 345 Head of Gabriel the Gipsy Lauder Thompson 352 Eagle Tower, Caernarvon. Dickes Measom. 373









Renounce your defiance; if you parley so roughly, I'll barricado

my gates against you.—Do you see yon bay window? Storm, -I care not, serving the good Duke of Norfolk.



RISE from a sick-bed, my dearest Matilda, to communicate the strange and frightful scenes which have just passed. Alas! how little we ought to jest with futurity! I closed my letter to you in high spirits, with some flippant remarks on your taste for the romantic and extraordinary in fictitious narrative. How little I expected to have had such events to record in the course of a few days! And to witness

scenes of terror, or to contemplate them in description, is as different, my dearest Matilda,




as to bend over the brink of a precipice holding by the frail tenure of a half-rooted shrub, or to admire the same precipice as represented in the landscape of Salvator. But I will not anticipate my narrative.

“The first part of my story is frightful enough, though it had nothing to interest my feelings. You must know that this country is particularly favourable to the commerce of a set of desperate men from the Isle of Man, which is nearly opposite. These smugglers are numerous, resolute, and formidable, and have at different times become the dread of the neighbourhood when any one has interfered with their contraband trade. The local magistrates, from timidity or worse motives, have become shy of acting against them, and impunity has rendered them equally daring and desperate. With all this, my father, a stranger in the land, and invested with no official authority, had, one would think, nothing to do. But it must be owned, that, as he himself expresses it, he was born when Mars was lord of his ascendant, and that strife and bloodshed find him out in circumstances and situations the most retired and pacific.

“ About eleven o'clock on last Tuesday morning, while Hazlewood and my father were proposing to walk to a little lake about three miles' distance, for the purpose of shooting wild ducks, and while Lucy and I were busied with arranging our plan of work and study for the day, we were alarmed by the sound of horses' feet, advancing very fast up the avenue. The ground was hardened by a severe frost, which made the clatter of the hoofs sound yet louder and sharper. In a moment,

two or three men, armed, mounted, and each leading a spare horse loaded with packages, appeared on the lawn, and, without keeping upon the road, which makes a small sweep, pushed right across for the door of the house. Their appearance was in the utmost degree hurried and disordered, and they frequently looked back like men who apprehended a close and deadly pursuit. My father and Hazlewood hurried to the front door to demand who they were, and what was their business. They were revenue officers, they stated, who had seized these horses, loaded with contraband articles, at a place about three miles off. But the smugglers had been reinforced, and were now pursuing them with the avowed purpose of recovering the goods, and putting to death the officers who had presumed to do their duty. The men said, that their horses being loaded, and the pursuers gaining ground upon them, they had fled to Woodbourne, conceiving that as my father had served the king, he would not refuse to protect the servants of government, when threatened to be murdered in the discharge of their duty.

“My father, to whom, in his enthusiastic feelings of military loyalty, even a dog would be of importance if he came in the king's name, gave prompt orders for securing the goods in the hall, arming the servants, and defending the house in case it should be necessary. Hazlewood seconded him with great spirit, and even the strange animal they call Sampson stalked out of his den, and seized upon a fowling-piece, which my father had laid aside, to take what they call a rifle-gun, with

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