apparently in a state of perfect insensibility. The wine measure
was empty and overturned; several drinking horns lay scattered around;
and everything betokened a deep debauch.

"This maun hae been potent liquor," said the baron, taking up one of the
cups, in which a few drops remained, and drinking it. "Ha! man, puir
gear after a'. A man micht drink three gallons o't, and dance to the
tune o' Gilquhisker after he has finished. What's the meaning o' this?"

"Aha! your tongue is _mouille_, mon noble Innerkepple," said the
merchant.

"It may be sae," replied the baron; "but it wasna made mooly, as ye
denominate it, by drink like that. I canna understand it, Monsieur."

As he stood musing on the strange circumstance, he caught, by the light
of a torch, the eye of Kate at the window, and felt his bewilderment
increased by a leer in that dark bewitching orb, whose language appeared
to him often--and never more so than at present--like Greek. His
attention was next claimed by the merchant, who proposed that the men
should be allowed to sleep out their inebriety where they lay. This
proposition was reasonable; and it would, besides, operate as a proper
punishment for their exceeding the limits of that prudence which their
duty to their master required them to observe. The baron agreed to it,
and, seeking again the support of the Frenchman's arm, he returned to
the hall.

The night was now fast closing in. An old female domestic had placed
lamps in the hall, and some supper was served up to the baron and the
merchant. Kate retired, as she said, to her couch; but it may be
surmised that an antechamber received her fair person, where she had
something else to do than to sleep. The loud snoring of the men in the
court-yard was heard distinctly, mixing with the screams of the owls
that perched on the turrets. The two biberons sat down to partake of the
supper, and prepare their stomachs, as Innerkepple said, for another
bouse of the grand liquor. The conduct of the two carousers now assumed
aspects very different from each other. The baron was gradually getting
more easy and comfortable, while the merchant displayed an extreme
restlessness and anxiety. The praises of his wine fell dead upon his
ear, and the jokes of the good Innerkepple seemed to have become vapid
and tiresome to him.

"That's a grand chorus in the court-yard, Monsieur," said the baron.
"Singing, snoring, groaning, are the three successive acts o' the
wassa