rty,
and the arrest of the Bailie and myself under pretext of our being
suspicious persons; and upon his more special inquiry, I recollected the
officer had mentioned that, besides my name sounding suspicious in his
ears, he had orders to secure an old and young person, resembling our
description. This again moved the outlaw's risibility.

"As man lives by bread," he said, "the buzzards have mistaen my friend
the Bailie for his Excellency, and you for Diana Vernon--O, the most
egregious night-howlets!"

"Miss Vernon?" said I, with hesitation, and trembling for the
answer--"Does she still bear that name? She passed but now, along with
a gentleman who seemed to use a style of authority."

"Ay, ay," answered Rob, "she's under lawfu' authority now; and full time,
for she was a daft hempie--But she's a mettle quean. It's a pity his
Excellency is a thought eldern. The like o' yourself, or my son Hamish,
wad be mair sortable in point of years."

Here, then, was a complete downfall of those castles of cards which my
fancy had, in despite of my reason, so often amused herself with
building. Although in truth I had scarcely anything else to expect, since
I could not suppose that Diana could be travelling in such a country, at
such an hour, with any but one who had a legal title to protect her, I
did not feel the blow less severely when it came; and MacGregor's voice,
urging me to pursue my story, sounded in my ears without conveying any
exact import to my mind.

"You are ill," he said at length, after he had spoken twice without
receiving an answer; "this day's wark has been ower muckle for ane
doubtless unused to sic things."

The tone of kindness in which this was spoken, recalling me to myself,
and to the necessities of my situation, I continued my narrative as well
as I could. Rob Roy expressed great exultation at the successful skirmish
in the pass.

"They say," he observed, "that king's chaff is better than other folk's
corn; but I think that canna be said o' king's soldiers, if they let
themselves be beaten wi' a wheen auld carles that are past fighting, and
bairns that are no come till't, and wives wi' their rocks and distaffs,
the very wally-draigles o' the countryside. And Dougal Gregor, too--wha
wad hae thought there had been as muckle sense in his tatty-pow, that
ne'er had a better covering than his ain shaggy hassock of hair!--But say
away--though I dread what's to come neist--for my Helen's an incarnate
dev