"What's up, Alister?' said the Captain huskily to his subordinate. What's up? What an infernal din the wind is making! Speak oot, man.'

'I don't think it will last, sir; it is taking round to the land, and the fog is rising. But I've just heard that the "Crookit Meg" was seen aff Rattray Head this morning.'

"D-n the "Crookit Meg." She's the curse o' the coast,' sputtered the Captain. But they can't land a keg to-night,— Skipper Dick himself couldn't make the Bloody Hole in this fog, and the wind blowing dead in shore. There'll be a heavy sea aff Dunbuy: he'll not risk it.'

That's true, sir; but they might run round to the Ward, and if I'm not wrong, it will be clear before daylight. I'd better warn our men at Whinnyfold.'

'Ay, ay, my lad, aff wi' you-the "Crookit Meg" and them on boord o' her are kittle cattle. And-Alister-a word in your ear. I'm an auld man and ye're a young ane. Dinna lippen to that little quean, Eppie Holdfast-there's mair maidens than mawkins in this country, and mony a strappin' lass is thinkin' lang for a stoot lad. Hoot awa', man, dinna glower; that hizzie is no to be trusted. She'll beguile you if she can. Her brither's on boord the lugger, and it's my opinion Harry Hacket kens mair o' baith the cutties than he wud care to tell at the town-cross.'

So Alister went out into the darkness, and the Captain returned to his cronies, who were gathered cosily round the fire.

The Captain was a well-known figure in Peelboro'—a short, stout, man, with a face like a harvest moon-a face beaming with whisky and fun-but without any neck to speak of; so that when he became hilarious towards the end of the evening he would go off every now and again into a sort of apoplectic fit, from which he would emerge out of breath, and with the tears running out of his honest eyestestifying to the violence of the process of recovery. His friends were used to these paroxysms of choking, and allowed him to take his own time in coming to. What between spitting, and sputtering, and stuttering, he was not what is called a ready speaker; but, on the other hand, he had a vast command of nautical' language, and a very vivid and prolific fancy-in short, he swore like a trooper and lied like Munchausen. But he was a general favourite, and he was specially popular with his men; for he had a kind heart (that universal solvent), an open hand, and an unquenchable thirst for 'news.'

'Ha! ha! Captain, this breeze will bring the woodcock across the water; we must have a day on the Ardlaw. That's the cover for a cock.'

The cover for a cock!' sputtered the Captain, attempting to relight his pipe, which had a chronic habit of going out. There's not a decent cover on this side o' Benachie. Give me the Loch o' Skene

As sure as

Faith, Provost, I hae you noo. What's your next move? gospel that's a groat into my pocket-we're playing for groats, mind. Fritz himsel' could not have pued his men thegither after sic an unspeakable and unaccoontable blunder. There are mair things in heaven and earth in the way o' perfec' unreasonableness than the unassisted intellect is capable o' conceiving. Never lose your temper, laird; it's neither dulce nor decorum to fa' into a fit. Put on the pieces, and I'll gie you a knight. A knight, and we'll mak it saxpence this time. But you maun look sharper after your queen-you had a keen eye ance for the queans, Provost, if a' tales be trueGratia solutis zonis, as the poet says. O the little rogues!—there were some remarkably fine women at Paris in the saxty-five! And to think how many o' my auld acquaintance are dead!-Whist! whist my lord. We have nae confession in the Kirk o' Knox, at least between auld haverels like you and me, and a minister of the Gospel is bound to walk warily.-Surely that's Corbie and the Captain in the street. Lord, how it blows!-there's mair than the east wind lowse this nicht! Bring up the haddies, Mailie, and I'll look oot the Glendronoch-dissipat Euius curas edaces—it's a fine speerit, Glendronoch (tho' it needs mixing), and as the auld Abbé used to say to me when uphauding Purgatory, "Ye may gang farer and fair waur.'

'And here's the buiks,' says the Provost, bringing out a wellthumbed pack of cards, as Corbie and the Captain enter the room.

'I say with Jack Cade,' the Doctor exclaims cheerily, as he clears the table, 'The first thing we do let's kill all the lawyers.'

'We'll finish the rubber first, if you please,' says the Provost, with a chuckle, as they cut for partners.

So they sat down; and for two or three hours the game proceeded with varying luck amid comparative silence.

The wind had risen during the evening, and now it was blowing a gale. There was no sound in the streets, except the rattling of the windows and the distant roll of the surf-the town's people, for the most part, were safe abed. Early to bed and early to rise made us healthy, wealthy, and wise in the year One. The second rubber had newly begun, when there was a modest rap at the street door, and Mailie entering, announced

'It's Watty Troup'-Watty was the burgh idiot-' speerin' for sneeshin'.'

But that was hours ago, and they were preparing to lay aside the cards and gather round the blazing peats for the final tumbler and the penultimate 'eke,' when a louder and more peremptory knock arrested the players.

'Here's Alister Ross,' said Mailie, opening the door, wants to see the Captain.'

'Bring him ben,' quoth the Provost. A remarkably handsome young fellow in the uniform of the coastguard, carrying a cutlass of the

What's up, Alister?' said the Captain huskily to his subordinate. What's up? What an infernal din the wind is making! Speak oot, man.'

'I don't think it will last, sir; it is taking round to the land, and the fog is rising. But I've just heard that the "Crookit Meg" was seen aff Rattray Head this morning.'

D-n the "Crookit Meg." She's the curse o' the coast,' sputtered the Captain. But they can't land a keg to-night,Skipper Dick himself couldn't make the Bloody Hole in this fog, and the wind blowing dead in shore. There'll be a heavy sea aff Dunbuy: he'll not risk it.'

'That's true, sir; but they might run round to the Ward, and if I'm not wrong, it will be clear before daylight. I'd better warn our men at Whinnyfold.'

'Ay, ay, my lad, aff wi' you-the "Crookit Meg" and them on boord o' her are kittle cattle. And-Alister-a word in your ear. I'm an auld man and ye're a young ane. Dinna lippen to that little quean, Eppie Holdfast-there's mair maidens than mawkins in this country, and mony a strappin' lass is thinkin' lang for a stoot lad. Hoot awa', man, dinna glower; that hizzie is no to be trusted. She'll beguile you if she can. Her brither's on boord the lugger, and it's my opinion Harry Hacket kens mair o' baith the cutties than he wud care to tell at the town-cross.'

So Alister went out into the darkness, and the Captain returned to his cronies, who were gathered cosily round the fire.

The Captain was a well-known figure in Peelboro'-a short, stout, man, with a face like a harvest moon- -a face beaming with whisky and fun-but without any neck to speak of; so that when he became hilarious towards the end of the evening he would go off every now and again into a sort of apoplectic fit, from which he would emerge out of breath, and with the tears running out of his honest eyestestifying to the violence of the process of recovery. His friends were used to these paroxysms of choking, and allowed him to take his own time in coming to. What between spitting, and sputtering, and stuttering, he was not what is called a ready speaker; but, on the other hand, he had a vast command of nautical' language, and a very vivid and prolific fancy-in short, he swore like a trooper and lied like Munchausen. But he was a general favourite, and he was specially popular with his men; for he had a kind heart (that universal solvent), an open hand, and an unquenchable thirst for 'news.'

'Ha! ha! Captain, this breeze will bring the woodcock across the water; we must have a day on the Ardlaw. That's the cover for a

cock.'

6

'The cover for a cock!' sputtered the Captain, attempting to relight his pipe, which had a chronic habit of going out. There's not a decent cover on this side o' Benachie. Give me the Loch o' Skene

there wi' auld Pitfoddels, we could have walked across the loch on their backs!'

Noo, Captain, that's a lee,' said Corbie, who as the night advanced was apt to grow pugnacious and opinionative.

The Captain began to spit and stutter, but before he could bring his guns into position to open fire on the enemy, the agile Doctor interposed.

Hoots, Captain, dinna mind him. We a' ken Corbie. His bark's waur than his bite. And Pitfoddels was that rara avis,' he went on, trying to create a diversion- that rara avis, an honest lawyer. Ha! ha! Corbie, what say you to that, my man?'

There's mair honest lawyers than honest ministers, Doctor. That's what I say. The canon law compared with the ceevil is superficial, unphilosophical, and sophistical.'

'The civil law!' the Doctor retorted. 'Why, the men who made it-if my friend Gibbon is right--were some of the greatest scoundrels unhung.'

The lawyer was fairly roused. Ye ken little of the Roman law, my freen, of whilk in its main features the Scots is a verra reasonable imitation. The Romans were a great people, and their law is a maist remarkable system o' jurisprudence. They had a perfec' respect for fac's-ay, Captain, a perfec' respect for fac'. For what says the "Corpus Juris"? Nam plus valet quod in veritate est, quam quod in opinione. That's the main distinction, Doctor, between the lawyer and the minister,-the lawyer seeks diligently for facts which he can verify, the minister blethers aboot a hash o' doctrines which are incapable of identification. Nor did Justinian— if ye like to ca' the haill body o' laws after the ruler in whose reign they were codified-haud wi' your Whig freens on this side, or your French freens on the tither side o' the water. Dootless we have made changes in oor laws, says he, but why?-quod non innovationem induximus, sed quoniam æquius erat.'

'He had mighty peculiar views about the liberty of the subject, one has heard,' the Doctor (who was suspected of occasionally drinking Fox's health in the retirement of his back parlour) remarked as he emptied his glass; and he was always braggin' about the morality of his time-nice morality indeed!'

'It's impossible to dispute,' the lawyer went on gravely, that the institution of slavery, to which I presume you allude, was an institution of the Roman State recognised and protected by the ceevil law. The slave, nae doobt, and ilka article he possessed, belanged to his owner. Ipse enim servus, qui in potestate alterius est, nihil suum habere potest. Perfectly true, Doctor, and in the revolted colonies o' the King, ca'ing themselves a republic-which may the Lord confound!-the same inequality, as ye ken weel, obtains. But then it was verra notably provided by the ceeveelians that the children of slaves were not to be considered as the mere fruit o' the

batur, hominem in fructu esse; cum omnes fructus rerum natura gratia hominis comparaverit; whilk--'

'Much good it did them!' said the Doctor.

Whilk, Corbie continued, disregarding the interruption, was an implied acknowledgment of the natural leeberty o' the subject, whereof your Maryland democraw is not capable. Ye may ca' it a fictio juris if it pleases you; but whar will you find a fiction like that which exempted the father o' the son wha died in battle from the burden o' tutelage which attached to him wha had nae bairns? He was not childless, for his bairn still lived. Hi enim, qui pro republica ceciderunt, in perpetuam per gloriam vivere intelliguntur!'

By this time Corbie had talked himself into high good humour and comparative sobriety, and when shortly afterwards the party broke up, he took the Commodore under his wing, and saw him safely housed.

'The maut's aboon the meal wi' Corbie,' the Doctor said to himself, as he strolled towards the manse; but what a lawyer's lost, because he canna drink in moderation!'

IV.

THE streets were wet with mist when the young coastguardsman opened the Provost's door. An occasional oil-lamp shone with a sort of nebulous radiance into the thick fog; but a good deal of circumspection was needed to avoid the pitfalls on either side of the narrow footway. He met no one except one solitary woman with a child in her arms, who came towards him as he quitted the town. The wind had driven her long hair into her eyes, and she looked, as far as he could judge in the uncertain light, poverty-stricken and dishevelled. It's no a nicht for the likes o' you to be oot, my lass,' he said to her kindly, as a fierce blast nearly tore the rags from her back, and the infant out of her arms. The likes o' me!' she replied, with a hoarse hysterical sob, as she disappeared into the darkness.

6

It

Alister had now left all the streets behind him; but a single light still burned ahead. The house from which it proceeded stood on the very margin of the sea--between the sea and the roadway. The outer door was partially open, and pausing for a moment before he entered, Alister gazed into the room from which the light came. was an ordinary cottage interior-a but and a ben; in what appeared to be the kitchen a bed was let into the wall, and at the bedside there was a shelf for books, on which some half-dozen volumes were deposited. A very old man sat on a three-legged stool before the fire-an old, spare, and wizened man, in a homespun suit of corduroys, with a square leather apron fastened close up to his chin, and a pair of horn spectacles upon his nose. The spectacles appeared to be more for ornament than use,-the wearer looked over them, not through them. Shrewd sagacious eyes planted in a face which must always have been strongly marked, and which was now deeply lined