er duties with her best grace. 'We have a very nice
parlour, sir, and everything very agreeable for gentlefolks; but it's
bespoke the night for a gentleman and his daughter that are going to
leave this part of the country; ane of my chaises is gane for them, and
will be back forthwith. They're no sae weel in the warld as they have
been; but we're a' subject to ups and downs in this life, as your honour
must needs ken,--but is not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to your
honour?'

'By no means, ma'am; I am an old campaigner, and perfectly used to it.
Will you permit me to make some inquiries about a family in this
neighbourhood?'

The sound of wheels was now heard, and the landlady hurried to the door
to receive her expected guests; but returned in an instant, followed by
the postilion. 'No, they canna come at no rate, the Laird's sae ill.'

'But God help them,' said the landlady, 'the morn's the term, the very
last day they can bide in the house; a' thing's to be roupit.'

'Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye; Mr. Bertram canna be
moved.'

'What Mr. Bertram?' said the stranger; 'not Mr. Bertram of Ellangowan, I
hope?'

'Just e'en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o' his, ye have come at
a time when he's sair bested.'

'I have been abroad for many years,--is his health so much deranged?'

'Ay, and his affairs an' a',' said the Deacon; 'the creditors have
entered into possession o' the estate, and it's for sale; and some that
made the maist by him--I name nae names, but Mrs. Mac-Candlish kens wha I
mean (the landlady shook her head significantly)--they're sairest on him
e'en now. I have a sma' matter due myself, but I would rather have lost
it than gane to turn the auld man out of his house, and him just dying.'

'Ay, but,' said the parish clerk, 'Factor Glossin wants to get rid of the
auld Laird, and drive on the sale, for fear the heir-male should cast up
upon them; for I have heard say, if there was an heir-male they couldna
sell the estate for auld Ellangowan's debt.'

'He had a son born a good many years ago,' said the stranger; 'he is
dead, I suppose?'

'Nae man can say for that,' answered the clerk mysteriously.

'Dead!' said the Deacon, 'I'se warrant him dead lang syne; he hasna been
heard o' these twenty years or thereby.'

'I wot weel it's no twenty years,' said the landlady; 'it's no abune
seventeen at the outside in this very month. It made an unco noise ower
a' this country; the bai