Old Mortality

lay’d before

aithed in th

ikes, and swords

wha sall play bef

Habbie

Habbie

d, long-winded fellow, had gained the official situation of town-piper of — by his merit, with all the emoluments thereof; namely, the Piper’s Croft, as it is still called, a field of about an acre in extent, five merks, and a new livery-coat of the town’s colours, yearly; some hopes of a dollar upon the day of the election of

st (or brewing) of the Howff retained, nevertheless, its unrivalled reputation, most of the old customers continued to give it a preference. The character of the new landlord, indeed, was of that accommodating kind, which enabled him, by close attention to the helm, to keep his little vessel pretty steady amid the contending tides of faction. He was a good-humoured, shrewd, selfish sort of fellow, indifferent alike to the disputes about church and state,

; but Heaven’s will maun be obeyed. — Jenny, whatever Milnwood ca’s for, be sure he maun hae’t, for he’s the Captain o’ the Popinjay, and auld customs maun be supported; if he canna pay the lawing himsell, as I ken he’s keepit unco short by the head, I’ll find a way to shame it out o’ his uncle. — The curate is playing at dice wi’ Cornet Grahame. Be eident and civil to them baith — clergy an

oons drave the cow frae the gudewife o’ Bell’s-moor, just bec

travailed; he behoved to stop whether he wad or no. Serve him cannily, Jenny, and wi’ little din, and dinna bring the sodgers on him by speering ony questions at him; but let na him hae a room to himsell, they wad say we were hiding him. — For yoursell, Jenny, ye’ll be civil to a’ the folk, and take nae heed o’ ony nonsense and daffing the young lads may say t’ye. Folk in the hostler line maun put up wi’ muckle. Your mither, rest her saul, could pit up wi’ as muckle

come to lounder ilk ither, as they

. — And, now I think on’t, the Laird of Lickitup (that’s him that was the laird) was speering for sma’ drink and a saut herring — gie him a pu’ be the sleeve, and round into his lug I wad be blithe o’ his company to dine wi’ me; he was a gude customer anes in a day, and wants naething but means to be a gude ane again — he likes drink as weel as e’er he did. And i

vant laird, once his patron, but now glad to be his trencher-companion, sate down to enjo

mbers melted away by degrees, and were at length diminished to four or five, who began to talk of breaking up their party. At another table, at some distance, sat two of the dragoons, whom Niel Blane had mentioned, a sergeant and a private in the celebrated John Grahame of Claverhouse’s regiment of Life-Guards. Even the

but Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell, whose turbulence and repeated conspiracies embarrassed the early part of James Sixth’s reign, and who at length died in exile in great poverty. The son of this Earl had sued to Charles I. for the restitution of part of his father’s forfeited estates, but the grasp of the nobles to whom they had been allotted was too tenacious to be unclenched. The breaking out of the civil wars utterly ruined him, by in

e disposition, which the habit of acting as agents for government in levying fines, exacting free quarters, and otherwise oppressing the Presbyterian recusants, had rendered too general among these soldiers. They were so much accustomed to such m

e small party quartered in the borough, and who was engaged in a game at dice with the curate of the place. But both of these being suddenly called from

mrade, “to see a set of bumpkins sit carousing here this

id Halliday. “I heard that green kail-w

have them drink the Archbishop of St Andr

ave him to the guard-house, and teach him to ride the colt foaled of

o do all things in order, I’ll begin with

ch he meditated, placed himself in front of the stranger noticed by Niel Blane, in his admonitions

ise from your seat, beloved, and, having bent your hams until your knees do rest upon the floor, beloved, that you will turn over this measure (called by the profane a gill) o

approached nearly to a squint, and which gave a very sinister expression to his countenance, joined to a frame, square, strong, and muscula

he, “if I should not be disposed t

tweak thy proboscis or nose. Secondly, beloved, that I will administer my fist to thy distorted visual optics; a

with a peculiar expression of voice and manner, “The Archbishop of St Andrews, and the place he

test,” said Hall

thwell; “I don’t understand what th

“we are here met as good subjects, and on a merry occasion; and we have

gn; I reckon it will be out by twelve at night. — Is it not an odd thing, Halliday,” he continued, addressing his companion, “that they should make such a fuss about cracking off their birding-pieces at a mark which any woman or boy could hit at a day’s practice? If Captain Popinjay now, or any of his troop, would try a bout, either with the broadswor

d he was about to make a very angry answer to Bothwell’s

good cause, I will see it out myself. — Hark thee, frie

red Bothwell; “yea I will strive with

etorted his antagonist, “I will forthwith make

he offered himself to the contest. The soldier was nothing abashed by the muscular frame, broad chest, square shoulders, and hardy look of his antago

an antagonist possessed of great endurance, skill, vigour, and length of wind. In the third close, the countryman lifted his opponent fairly from the floor, and hurled him to the ground with such violence, that h

anions, “it was all fair play; your com

ap and feather in the King’s Life-Guards on the floor of a rascally change-house. — Hark ye, friend, give me your hand.” The stranger held out his hand. “I p

qual firmness, “that when we next meet, I will lay your head as low a

brave one, and so good even to thee — Hadst best take thy nag before the Cornet ma

able, saddled and brought out a powerful black horse, now recruited by rest and forage, and turning to Morton, observe

hich his mind recoiled. His companions, after a courteous good-night, broke up and went off in different directions

der arms in the market-place at this unexpected summons, while, with faces of anxiety and earnestness, Cornet Grahame, a kinsman of Claverho

spoke; “let no man leave the house. — So, Bothwell, how

ters, sir,” said his comra

“If you neglect duty in this way, your

cted duty?” said

me that the Archbishop of St Andrews has been strangely and foully assassinated by a body of the rebel whigs, who pursued and sto

hast at the

ornet, pulling out a proclamation, “the reward

— Zounds, that we should not have stopt him! Go saddle our horses, Halliday. — Was there one o

et me look at the paper. — Hackston o

my man,” sa

ive feet eight inches in height”—“It is he — it is the ver

strong black horse, taken from the

“and the very horse! he was in this

had murdered the primate, whom they accidentally met, as they were searching for another person against whom they bore enmity. 5 In their excited imagination the casual rencounter had the appearance of a pro

ed Cornet Grahame; “the murdering dog’s head