ar that edge," said I to myself; "however, as you have done it,
why should not I? And I should like to know who you are." So I
commenced the descent of the rock, but with great care, for I had as yet
never been in a situation so dangerous; a slight moisture exuded from the
palms of my hands, my nerves were tingling, and my brain was somewhat
dizzy--and now I had arrived within a few yards of the figure, and had
recognised it: it was the wild drummer who had turned the tide of battle
in the bicker on the Castle Brae. A small stone which I dislodged now
rolled down the rock, and tumbled into the abyss close beside him. He
turned his head, and after looking at me for a moment somewhat vacantly,
he resumed his former attitude. I drew yet nearer to the horrible edge;
not close, however, for fear was on me.

"What are you thinking of, David?" said I, as I sat behind him and
trembled, for I repeat that I was afraid.

_David Haggart_. I was thinking of Willie Wallace.

_Myself_. You had better be thinking of yourself, man. A strange place
this to come to and think of William Wallace.

_David Haggart_. Why so? Is not his tower just beneath our feet?

_Myself_. You mean the auld ruin by the side of the Nor Loch--the ugly
stane bulk, from the foot of which flows the spring into the dyke, where
the watercresses grow?

_David Haggart_. Just sae, Geordie.

_Myself_. And why were ye thinking of him? The English hanged him long
since, as I have heard say.

_David Haggart_. I was thinking that I should wish to be like him.

_Myself_. Do ye mean that ye would wish to be hanged?

_David Haggart_. I wad na flinch from that, Geordie, if I might be a
great man first.

_Myself_. And wha kens, Davie, how great you may be, even without
hanging? Are ye not in the high road of preferment? Are ye not a bauld
drummer already? Wha kens how high ye may rise? perhaps to be general,
or drum-major.

_David Haggart_. I hae na wish to be drum-major; it were na great things
to be like the doited carle, Else-than-gude, as they call him; and,
troth, he has nae his name for naething. But I should have nae objection
to be a general, and to fight the French and Americans, and win myself a
name and a fame like Willie Wallace, and do brave deeds, such as I have
been reading about in his story book.

_Myself_. Ye are a fule, Davie; the story book is full of lies. Wallace,
indeed! the wuddie rebel! I have heard my father say