The Wizard's Son

of the Calton Jail were the Castle, and was much disappointed, as was natural. Arthur’s Seat and the Crags were as entirely invisible as if they had been a hundred mi

e had rarely been anywhere before. It was all new to him, even the sense of living in an inn. There was a curious freedom about it, and independence of all restraint, which pleased him. But it was very strange to be absolutely unknown, to meet the gaze of faces he had never seen before, and to be obliged always to explain who he was. It was clear that a servant was a thing quite necessary to a man who called himself by a title, a servant not so much to attend upon him as to answer for him, and be a sort of guarantee to the world. Now that he was here in Edinburgh, he was not quite sure what to do with himself. It was too early to do anything. He could not disturb old Milnathort at such an hour. He must let the old man get to his office and read his letters before he could descend upon him. So that on the whole Walter, though sustained by the excitement of his new position, was altogether chilled and not at all comfortable, feeling those early hours of grim da

fferent from their own. He did not realise at that moment the unfailing human complacency which would have come to his aid in such circumstances, and persuaded him that the gifts of fortune had nothing to do with real superiority. He thought of the possible reflections upon himself of the other young fellows in their lowly estate as if he had himself been making them. He was sorry for them all, for the contrast they must draw, and the strange sense of human inequality that they must feel. He was no better than they were—who could tell? perhaps not half as good. He felt that to feel this was a due tribute from Lord Erradeen in his good fortune to those who might have been Walter Methven’s fellow-clerks, but

im, coming out of his own room on purp

and your room ready for you in our little place. I think you will be more comfortable with us, though we have no grandeur to surround you with. My sister has a great wish to make your acqua

disturb you so ea

ere is an easterly haar, which is bad both for you and the objects you are wanting to see. However, it is lifting, and we’ll get some luncheon, and then I will put you in the way. That is the best thing I can do for you. Malcolm, you will send down all the documents relative to his lordship’s affairs to Moray Place, this afternoon; and you can tell old Symington to be in attendance in case Lord Erradeen should wish to see him. That is

e,” said Walter, “in interfer

as they went out again into the streets, and the mid-day gun from the Castle helped for a moment to disperse the haar, and show the noble cliff on which it rears its head aloft. Mr. Milnathort paused to look with tender pride along the line—the houses and spires lifting out of the clouds, the sunshine breaking through, the crown of St. Giles’s ho

“but everybody has heard of Edinburgh, s

it is a drawback of a great reputation that ye never come near it with your mind clear.” Having said this the old gentleman dismissed the subjec

r lau

ng about them. But I don’t believe much in family secrets. They

h displeasure struggled with that supreme sense that the rash young

you have your imagination under control, that will do ye still better service. In most cases it is not only what we see, but what we think we are going to see, that daunts us. Keep y

st, and was totally unprepared to hear Spenser from the lips of the old Scottish la

there giants to encounter or magicians? One would think we were

among these grave and potent signors. There was a certain desire visible to make his acquaintance and to ascertain his political opinions, of which Walter was scarcely aware as yet whether he had any. It was suggested at once that he should be put up for the club, and invitations to dinner began to be showered upon him. He was stopped short in his replies to those cordial beginnings of acquaintance by Mr. Milnathort, who calmly assumed the guidance of his movements. “Lord Erradeen,” he said, “is on his way West. Business will not permit him to tarry at this moment. We hope he will be back ere long, and perhaps stay a while in Edinburgh, and see what is to be seen in the way

s well as I know my chambers, and he will ju

il regret to give his new acquaintance tro

breath of my nostrils,”

rd Erradeen, you would not deprive our friend of such a pleasure: and we’ll look for you by fiv

hose relics of a past which had gone away altogether out of mortal ken. When the blood is at high pressure in our veins, and the future lying all before us, it is very difficult to turn back, and force our eager eyes into contemplation of scenes with which we ourselves have little or no connection. The antiquary, however, was not to be baulked. He looked at his young companion with his head on one side like a critical bird. “You are paying no attention to me,” he said half pathetically; “but ‘cod, man (I beg your pardon, my lord!), ye shall be interested before I’m done.” With this threat he hurried Walter alon

Mr. Bannatyne, “these arms

oss of rude, half-oblite

it,” said the young man; his pat

our consequences in the world—!” He paused a little in the fervour of his indignation, then added—“But there are allowances to be made for you as you were bred in England, and perhaps are little acquainted—My lord, this is Me’even’s Close, bearing the name even now

the trim piece of modern Latin about the conquering power of virtue which was on his father’s seal. The old possibility that he might turn out an

had better see. Oh nobody will have any objection, a silver key opens every door hereabout. If it should happen to be yours, my lord, and I were you,” said the eager little man, “I would clear out the whole clanjamfry and have it thoroughly cleaned, a

deur, at once excited and distressed Walter. There was a bed, or rather a heap of something covered with the bright patches of an old quilt, in one corner, in another an old corner cupboard fixed into the wall, a rickety table and two chairs in the middle of the room. The solemn, unsheltered windows, like so many hollow, staring eyes, gazed out through the cold veil of the mist upon the many windows of an equally tall house on the other side of the street, the view being broken by a projecting pole thrust forth from the middle one, upon which some dingy clothes

ed most of his pliskies. It was his ‘warm study of deals’ like that they made for John Knox on the other side of

hcraft? It appears,” he said, with petulan

h is no small distinction. You never heard of that? Oh, my lord, that’s just not possible! He was the one whose death was never proved nor nothing about him, where he was buried, or the nature of his end, or if he ever came to an end at all; his son would never take the title, and forbade his son to do it: but by the time you have got to the second generation you are not minding so much.

amily. What is it we came to see?—not this wretched place which makes me sick. The p

ted about among the drapery—you’ll not see such work now; and the ermine on that mantle just stands out in every hair, for all the grime and the smoke. It is the legend beneath the sh

vil. He had a great curiosity to know what all this meant mingled with an angry disinclination impossible to put into words. Mr. Bannatyne, who of course knew nothing of what was g

e Helle, né f

Me’e

changes that just delights me. And the other has the same sentiment, ‘Neither frightened for hell nor keen about heaven.’ It is the height of impiety,” he s

pleasure of novelty that he shook them together, gold and silver in one shining heap, and threw half a dozen of them to the little group before the fire.) “For heaven’s sake let us get out of this!” he said, nervously. He could not have e

will never do that. The finest street in Christendom, and one o

re understanding of history, or even of the share his own race has had in it, than that collie dog—indeed, Yarrow is far more intelligent, and a brute that is conscious of a fine descent. I am not saying that there are not fine lads among some of those English-bred young men, and some that have the sense to like old-fa

ss of the heart. Which was it? He could not tell. He said to himself, with a sort of scorn at himself, that probably the bourgeois atmosphere of Sloebury had made him incapable of those imaginative flights for which the highest and the lowest classes have a mutual aptitude. The atmosphere of comfort and respectability was against it. This idea rather exasperated him, and he dwelt upon it with a natural perversity because he hated to identify himself as one of that stolid middle class which is above or beneath fanciful impulses. Then he began to wonder whether all this might not be part of a deep-laid scheme on the part of old Milnathort to get him, Walter, under his power. No doubt it was arranged that he should be brought to that intolerable place, and all the spells of the past called forth to subdue him by his imagination if never through his intellect. What did they take him for? He was no credulous Celt, bu