e's
opinion, and may be that of most of our readers, that the Recluse
of Mucklestane-Moor had but a kind of a gleaming, or twilight
understanding; and that he had neither very clear views as to what he
himself wanted, nor was apt to pursue his ends by the clearest and most
direct means; so that to seek the clew of his conduct, was likened, by
Hobbie, to looking for a straight path through a common, over which are
a hundred devious tracks, but not one distinct line of road.

When Isabella had perused the letter, her first enquiry was after her
father. He had left the castle, she was informed, early in the morning,
after a long interview with Mr. Ratcliffe, and was already far on his
way to the next port, where he might expect to find shipping for the
Continent.

"Where was Sir Edward Mauley?"

No one had seen the Dwarf since the eventful scene of the preceding
evening.

"Odd, if onything has befa'en puir Elshie," said Hobbie Elliot, "I wad
rather I were harried ower again."

He immediately rode to his dwelling, and the remaining she-goat came
bleating to meet him, for her milking time was long past. The Solitary
was nowhere to be seen; his door, contrary to wont, was open, his fire
extinguished, and the whole hut was left in the state which it exhibited
on Isabella's visit to him. It was pretty clear that the means of
conveyance which had brought the Dwarf to Ellieslaw on the preceding
evening, had removed him from it to some other place of abode. Hobbie
returned disconsolate to the castle.

"I am doubting we hae lost Canny Elshie for gude an' a'."

"You have indeed," said Ratcliffe, producing a paper, which he put into
Hobbie's hands; "but read that, and you will perceive you have been no
loser by having known him."

It was a short deed of gift, by which "Sir Edward Mauley, otherwise
called Elshender the Recluse, endowed Halbert or Hobbie Elliot, and
Grace Armstrong, in full property, with a considerable sum borrowed by
Elliot from him."

Hobbie's joy was mingled with feelings which brought tears down his
rough cheeks.

"It's a queer thing," he said; "but I canna joy in the gear, unless I
kend the puir body was happy that gave it me."

"Next to enjoying happiness ourselves," said Ratcliffe, "is the
consciousness of having bestowed it on others. Had all my master's
benefits been conferred like the present, what a different return would
they have produced! But the indiscriminate profusion that would glut
a