," returned the nephew.

"I know no such thing," said Mrs. Margaret, "and if the Romans say so, I
account it only another of their many lies; and I wonder they are not
ashamed to invent tales so derogotary to the honour of him they call
their head!"

"Pshaw!" said the laird; "I am not speaking of the Pope, but of the Czar
of all the Russias!"

"Well! well! Dymock;" returned Mrs. Margaret, "I only wish that I could
persuade you from committing this derogation. However, if you must needs
work with Shanty, let me beg you to put on one of your old shirts; for
the sparks will be sure to fly, and there will be no end of darning the
small burns."

"Be assured aunt," said Mr. Dymock, "that I shall do nothing by halves;
if I work with Shanty, I shall put on a leathern apron, and tuck up
my sleeves."

"All this does not suit my notions," replied Mrs. Margaret: but her
nephew had risen to leave her, and there was an end to the argument.

As Mr. Dymock had told his aunt; so he did: he went to Shanty's forge,
he dressed himself like the old master himself, and set fairly to work,
to learn the mysteries of the trade; mysteries which, however, as far as
Shanty knew them, were not very deep.

[Illustration: He went to Shantys Forge _See Page 14_]

There has not often been a more ill-arranged and unsettled mind than
that of Mr. Dymock; his delight was in anything new, and for a few days
he would pursue this novelty with such eagerness, that during the time
he seemed to forget every thing else. It was a delicate job, and yet one
requiring strength which was needed for the plough. Shanty had told
the laird at once, that it was beyond his own skill or strength, seeing
that he was old and feeble, "and as to your doing it, sir," he said,
"who cannot yet shape a horse-shoe! you must serve longer than a week,
before you get that much knowledge of the craft; there is no royal way
to learning, and even for the making of a horse-shoe a 'prenticeship
must be served, and I mistake me very much if you don't tire before
seven days service are over, let alone as many years."

But, Mr. Dymock had as yet served only two days, when one evening a
young man, a dark, athletic, bold-looking youth, entered the
blacksmith's shed. It was an evening in autumn, and the shed was far
from any house; Dymock's tower was the nearest, and the sun was already
so low that the old keep with its many mouldering walls, and
out-buildings, was seen from the shed, s