in
upon.

"Whisht! whisht! Back, Davy, back!" (The two professional gentlemen
were ensconced in a close or entry directly opposite Mr Willoughby's
garden-gate.) "Back, Davy, back!" said Howison. "There's somebody
comin. I hear folk speakin and lauchin in the garden."

Davy listened an instant, then acknowledged there were good grounds
for the assertion, and immediately drew himself farther into his
hiding-place, like an alarmed snail into its shell.

Howison, as the principal, now placed himself in front of his
assistant, squeezed himself as close as he could to the wall, until he
stuck as close to, and as flat on it, as a bat. He then, by a
dexterous movement, thrust his head in a lateral direction, till his
nose just cleared the corner of the close, when, closing his left eye,
and concentrating his whole powers of vision in his right, he planted
the solitary optic with eager vigilance on the garden gate, to watch
the coming forth of those who were on its opposite side. For this he
had not long to wait. In a few moments the gate flew open, and out
sallied, with frequent bursts of merriment, one of the gayest and most
joyous parties that a bright summer day ever brought forth; and gayest
and most joyous of the whole was Jacob Merrilees. Of the whole squad
his laugh was the loudest, his motions the liveliest, his looks the
most cheerful. Jacob was in his element. He was in the midst of a bevy
of ladies. One hung on each arm; while others, to whom fortune had not
been so propitious in allowing them to get nearer his person,
contented themselves with taking the arms again of their more favoured
sisters--of those two enviable spinsters who had secured the posts of
honour, the immediate vicinity of the admired Jacob Merrilees. Jacob
was thus in the very centre of the gay band of fair spinsters; and a
proud man was he of his enviable position. He talked!--ye gods, how he
talked!--and chattered away in a manner most delightful to hear; at
least so it seemed, from the frequent bursts of laughter which he
elicited from his lively protegees. He smirked, and he smiled, and he
bowed, first to one side and then to another, after his most
captivating manner, and, in short, did all that a man who was pleased
with himself, and desired to please others, could possibly do to
maintain these agreeable feelings. He was the king of the roost--that
was evident; the very centre of attraction; the delight, the glory,
the leading star in the