ankers o'
brandy on ilk side o' me."--

"In other words, Andrew," said I, "you were a smuggler--how does a man of
your strict principles reconcile yourself to cheat the revenue?"

"It's a mere spoiling o' the Egyptians," replied Andrew; "puir auld
Scotland suffers eneugh by thae blackguard loons o' excisemen and
gaugers, that hae come down on her like locusts since the sad and
sorrowfu' Union; it's the part of a kind son to bring her a soup o'
something that will keep up her auld heart,--and that will they nill
they, the ill-fa'ard thieves!"

Upon more particular inquiry, I found Andrew had frequently travelled
these mountain-paths as a smuggler, both before and after his
establishment at Osbaldistone Hall--a circumstance which was so far of
importance to me, as it proved his capacity as a guide, notwithstanding
the escapade of which he had been guilty at his outset, Even now, though
travelling at a more moderate pace, the stirrup-cup, or whatever else had
such an effect in stimulating Andrew's motions, seemed not totally to
have lost its influence. He often cast a nervous and startled look behind
him; and whenever the road seemed at all practicable, showed symptoms of
a desire to accelerate his pace, as if he feared some pursuit from the
rear. These appearances of alarm gradually diminished as we reached the
top of a high bleak ridge, which ran nearly east and west for about a
mile, with a very steep descent on either side. The pale beams of the
morning were now enlightening the horizon, when Andrew cast a look behind
him, and not seeing the appearance of a living being on the moors which
he had travelled, his hard features gradually unbent, as he first
whistled, then sung, with much glee and little melody, the end of one of
his native songs--

"Jenny, lass! I think I hae her
Ower the muir amang the heather,
All their clan shall never get her."

He patted at the same time the neck of the horse which had carried him so
gallantly; and my attention being directed by that action to the animal,
I instantly recognised a favourite mare of Thorncliff Osbaldistone. "How
is this, sir?" said I sternly; "that is Mr. Thorncliff's mare!"

"I'll no say but she may aiblins hae been his honour's Squire
Thorncliff's in her day--but she's mine now."

"You have stolen her, you rascal."

"Na, na, sir--nae man can wyte me wi' theft. The thing stands this gate,
ye see.