the attempt.

The intruder was a man of great size and strength, but as he seemed to
be alone, Black quietly leaned the piece of wood against the lathe again
in a handy position.

"Ye seem to hae been takin' lessons frae the cats lately, to judge from
yer step," said Black. "Shut the door, man, behint ye. There's a draft
i' this place that'll be like to gie ye the rheumatiz."

The man obeyed, and, advancing silently, stood before the lathe. There
was light enough to reveal the fact that his countenance was handsome,
though bronzed almost to the colour of mahogany, while the lower part of
it was hidden by a thick beard and a heavy moustache.

Black, who began to see that the strange visitor had nothing of the
appearance of one sent to arrest him, said, in a half-humorous,
remonstrative tone--

"Maybe ye're a furriner, an' dinna understan' mainners, but it's as weel
to tell ye that I expec' men to tak' aff their bannets when they come
into _my_ hoose."

Without speaking the visitor removed his cap. Black recognised him in
an instant.

"Wull Wallace!" he gasped in a hoarse whisper, as he sprang forward and
laid violent hands on his old friend. "Losh, man! are my een leein'?
is't possable? Can this be _you_?"

"Yes, thank God, it is indeed--"

He stopped short, for Andrew, albeit unaccustomed, like most of his
countrymen, to give way to ebullitions of strong feeling, threw his long
arms around his friend and fairly hugged him. He did not, indeed,
condescend on a Frenchman's kiss, but he gave him a stage embrace and a
squeeze that was worthy of a bear.

"Your force is not much abated, I see--or rather, feel," said Will
Wallace, when he was released.

"Abated!" echoed Black, "it's little need, in thae awfu' times. But,
man, _your_ force has increased, if I'm no mista'en."

"Doubtless--it is natural, after having toiled with the slaves in
Barbadoes for so many years. The work was kill or cure out there. But
tell me--my mother--and yours?"

"Oh, they're baith weel and hearty, thank the Lord," answered Black.
"But what for d'ye no speer after Jean?" he added in a somewhat
disappointed tone.

"Because I don't need to. I've seen her already, and know that she is
well."

"Seen her!" exclaimed Andrew in surprise.

"Ay, you and Jean were seated alone at the little window in the
Candlemaker Raw last night about ten o'clock, and I was standing by a
tombstone in the Greyfriars Churchyard admiring you.