! arrah, don't make a fool of
yourself, old man! He'd die sooner. I'd stake my life on him."

The night advanced, and the family had retired to bed; but their son
attempted in vain to sleep. A sense of shame overpowered him keenly.
He tossed and turned, and groaned, at the contemplation of the disgrace
which he knew would be heaped on him the following day. What was to be
done? How was he to wipe it off? There was but one method, he believed,
of getting his hands once more free; that was to seek Ellen, and gain
her permission to retract his oath on that very night. With this purpose
he instantly dressed, himself, and quietly unbolting his own door,
and that of the kitchen, got another staff, and passed out to seek her
father's inn.

The night had now become dark, but mild and agreeable; the repose of man
and nature was deep, and save his own tumultuous thoughts every thing
breathed an air of peace and rest. At a quick but cautious pace he soon
reached the inn, and without much difficulty passed into the garden,
from which he hoped to be able to make himself known to Ellen. In this,
to his great mortification, he was disappointed; the room in which she
slept, being on the third story, presented a window, it is true, to the
garden; but how was he to reach it, or hold a dialogue with her, even
should she recognize him, without being overheard by some of the family?
All this might have occurred to him at home, had he been sufficiently
cool for reflection. As it was, the only method of awakening her that he
could think of was to throw up several handsful of small pebbles against
the window. This he tried without any effect. Pebbles sufficiently large
to reach the window would have broken the glass, so that he felt himself
compelled to abandon every hope of speaking to her that night. With
lingering and reluctant steps he left the garden, and stood for some
time before the front of the house, leaning against an upright stone,
called the market cross. Here he had not been more than two minutes,
when he heard footsteps approaching, and on looking closely through
the darkness, he recognized the figure of Nell M'Collum, as it passed
directly to the kitchen window. Here the crone stopped, peered in, and
with caution gave one of the panes a gentle tap. This was responded
to by one much louder from within, and almost immediately the door was
softly opened. From thence issued another female figure, evidently that
of Nanse M'Collum,