ude of revenge, for presently (and here is the touch of humour) he
made the Lord of Session ride at dead of night to the gallows, whereon
the three malefactors were hanging. One arm of the crossbeams was still
untenanted. 'By my soul, mon,' cried Gilderoy to the Lord of Session,
'as this gibbet is built to break people's craigs, and is not uniform
without another, I must e'en hang you upon the vacant beam.' And
straightway the Lord of Session swung in the moonlight, and Gilderoy had
cracked his black and solemn joke.

This sense of fun is the single trait which relieves the colossal
turpitude of Gilderoy. And, though even his turpitude was melodramatic
in its lack of balance, it is a unity of character which is the
foundation of his greatness. He was no fumbler, led away from his
purpose by the first diversion; his ambition was clear before him, and
he never fell below it. He defied Scotland for fifteen years, was hanged
so high that he passed into a proverb, and though his handsome, sinister
face might have made women his slaves, he was never betrayed by passion
(or by virtue) to an amiability.

II--SIXTEEN-STRING JACK

THE 'Green Pig' stood in the solitude of the North Road. Its simple
front, its neatly balanced windows, curtained with white, gave it an air
of comfort and tranquillity. The smoke which curled from its hospitable
chimney spoke of warmth and good fare.

To pass it was to spurn the last chance of a bottle for many a weary
mile, and the prudent traveller would always rest an hour by its ample
fireside, or gossip with its fantastic hostess. Now, the hostess of
the little inn was Ellen Roach, friend and accomplice of Sixteen-String
Jack, once the most famous woman in England, and still after a weary
stretch at Botany Bay the strangest of companions, the most buxom of
spinsters. Her beauty was elusive even in her triumphant youth, and
middle-age had neither softened her traits nor refined her expression.
Her auburn hair, once the glory of Covent Garden, was fading to a
withered grey; she was never tall enough to endure an encroaching
stoutness with equanimity; her dumpy figure made you marvel at her past
success; and hardship had furrowed her candid brow into wrinkles. But
when she opened her lips she became instantly animated. With a glass
before her on the table, she would prattle frankly and engagingly of
the past. Strange cities had she seen; she had faced the dangers of an
adventurous life