, to be accounted a very handsome
man; it gave something wild, irregular, and, as it were, unearthly, to
his appearance, and reminded me involuntarily of the tales which Mabel
used to tell of the old Picts who ravaged Northumberland in ancient
times, who, according to her tradition, were a sort of half-goblin
half-human beings, distinguished, like this man, for courage, cunning,
ferocity, the length of their arms, and the squareness of their
shoulders.

When, however, I recollected the circumstances in which we formerly met,
I could not doubt that the billet was most probably designed for him. He
had made a marked figure among those mysterious personages over whom
Diana seemed to exercise an influence, and from whom she experienced an
influence in her turn. It was painful to think that the fate of a being
so amiable was involved in that of desperadoes of this man's
description;--yet it seemed impossible to doubt it. Of what use, however,
could this person be to my father's affairs?--I could think only of one.
Rashleigh Osbaldistone had, at the instigation of Miss Vernon, certainly
found means to produce Mr. Campbell when his presence was necessary to
exculpate me from Morris's accusation--Was it not possible that her
influence, in like manner, might prevail on Campbell to produce
Rashleigh? Speaking on this supposition, I requested to know where my
dangerous kinsman was, and when Mr. Campbell had seen him. The answer was
indirect.

"It's a kittle cast she has gien me to play; but yet it's fair play, and
I winna baulk her. Mr. Osbaldistone, I dwell not very far from hence--my
kinsman can show you the way--Leave Mr. Owen to do the best he can in
Glasgow--do you come and see me in the glens, and it's like I may
pleasure you, and stead your father in his extremity. I am but a poor
man; but wit's better than wealth--and, cousin" (turning from me to
address Mr. Jarvie), "if ye daur venture sae muckle as to eat a dish of
Scotch collops, and a leg o' red-deer venison wi' me, come ye wi' this
Sassenach gentleman as far as Drymen or Bucklivie,--or the Clachan of
Aberfoil will be better than ony o' them,--and I'll hae somebody waiting
to weise ye the gate to the place where I may be for the time--What say
ye, man? There's my thumb, I'll ne'er beguile thee."

"Na, na, Robin," said the cautious burgher, "I seldom like to leave the
Gorbals;* I have nae freedom to gang among your wild hills, Robin, and
your kilted red-shanks--it di