ntle havings.'

'She is the laird's daughter?' said I, in as careless a tone of inquiry
as I could assume.

'His daughter, man? Na, na, only his niece--and sib aneugh to him, I
think.'

'Aye, indeed,' I replied; 'I thought she had borne his name?'

'She bears her ain name, and that's Lilias.'

'And has she no other name?' asked I.

'What needs she another till she gets a gudeman?' answered my Thetis,
a little miffed perhaps--to use the women's phrase--that I turned
the conversation upon my former partner, rather than addressed it to
herself.

There was a little pause, which was interrupted by Dame Martin
observing, 'They are standing up again.'

'True,' said I, having no mind to renew my late violent CAPRIOLE, and I
must go help old Willie.'

Ere I could extricate myself, I heard poor Thetis address herself to
a sort of merman in a jacket of seaman's blue, and a pair of trousers
(whose hand, by the way, she had rejected at an earlier part of the
evening) and intimate that she was now disposed to take a trip.

'Trip away, then, dearie,' said the vindictive man of the waters,
without offering his hand; 'there,' pointing to the floor, 'is a roomy
berth for you.'

Certain I had made one enemy, and perhaps two, I hastened to my original
seat beside Willie, and began to handle my bow. But I could see that my
conduct had made an unfavourable impression; the words, 'flory conceited
chap,'--'hafflins gentle,' and at length, the still more alarming
epithet of 'spy,' began to be buzzed about, and I was heartily glad when
the apparition of Sam's visage at the door, who was already possessed of
and draining a can of punch, gave me assurance that my means of retreat
were at hand. I intimated as much to Willie, who probably had heard
more of the murmurs of the company than I had, for he whispered, 'Aye,
aye,--awa wi' ye--ower lang here--slide out canny--dinna let them see ye
are on the tramp.'

I slipped half a guinea into the old man's hand, who answered, 'Truts
pruts! nonsense but I 'se no refuse, trusting ye can afford it. Awa wi'
ye--and if ony body stops ye, cry on me.'

I glided, by his advice, along the room as if looking for a partner,
joined Sam, whom I disengaged with some difficulty from his can, and
we left the cottage together in a manner to attract the least possible
observation. The horses were tied in a neighbouring shed, and as
the moon was up, and I was now familiar with the road, broken and
complic