nny Dundee."

"Whisht, sir," said the magistrate, in an authoritative tone--"lilting
and singing sae near the latter end o' the Sabbath! This house may
hear ye sing anither tune yet. Aweel, we hae a' backslidings to
answer for--Stanchells, open the door."

The jailer obeyed, and we all sallied forth. Stanchells looked with
some surprize at the two strangers, wondering, doubtless, how they
came into these premises without his knowledge; but Mr. Jarvie's
"Friends o' mine, Stanchells--friends o' mine," silenced all
disposition to inquiries. We now descended into the lower vestibule,
and hallooed more than once for Dougal, to which summons no answer was
returned; when Campbell observed, with a sardonic smile, "That if
Dougal was the lad he kent him, he would scarce wait to get thanks for
his ain share of the night's wark, but was in all probability on the
full trot to the pass of Ballmaha"--

"And left us--and, abune a', me mysell, locked up in the tolbooth a'
night!" exclaimed the Bailie, in ire and perturbation. "Ca' for
fore-hammers, sledge-hammers, pinches, and coulters; send for Deacon
Yettlin, the smith, and let him ken that Bailie Jarvie's shut up in
the tolbooth by a Hieland blackguard, whom he'll hang up as high as
Haman"--

"When we catch him," said Campbell gravely; "but stay, the door is
surely not locked."

Indeed, on examination, we found that the door was not only left open,
but that Dougal in his retreat had, by carrying off the keys along
with him, taken care that no one should exercise his office of porter
in a hurry.

"He has glimmerings o' common sense now, that creature Dougal," said
Campbell; "he ken'd an open door might hae served me at a pinch."

We were by this time in the street.

"I tell you, Robin," said the magistrate, "in my puir mind, if ye live
the life ye do, ye suld hae ane o' your gillies doorkeeper in every
jail of Scotland, in case o' the warst."

"Ane o' my kinsman a bailie in ilka burgh will just do as weel, Cousin
Nicol. So, gude-nicht or gude-morning to ye; and forget not the
Clachan of Aberfoil."

And without waiting for an answer, he sprang to the other side of the
street, and was lost in darkness. Immediately on his disappearance, we
heard him give a low whistle of peculiar modulation, which was
instantly replied to.

"Hear to the Hieland deevils," said Mr. Jarvie; "they think themselves
on the skirts of Benlomond already, where they may gang whewing,
whistling abo