f work, for it was nothing else,
and took notice of us.

"Ladies, I ask your pardon--your pardon. Yes, yes, let me see, you
have some appointment with me. Eh, what was it again? Oh, I remember,
you are Lady Enderby. Yes, yes--"

"No, your Grace; I am Lady Jane Drummond; this is my ward, Miss
Margaret Nairn, and this my cousin, Captain Geraldine; our business
is to implore your Grace's assistance towards the release of her
brother, Captain Nairn, arrested in error, and now confined in Fort
William."

"Awkward, eh? Mistakes like that might be very awkward--very awkward
indeed. No doubt he is one of these pestilent rebels--eh?"

"Indeed, your Grace, he has never drawn sword in the matter at all;
and what is more, he is an officer in the French service, holding
his full commission therein."

"Oh, I have no doubt he is the most innocent creature in the world!
but will you explain, madam, what he was doing in Scotland just
when the rebels happened to be in full swing--eh?"

"Indeed, your Grace, he never put foot in Scotland until this
unhappy business was ended at Culloden."

"That's a pity, now, a great pity. As the vulgar say, he came 'just
a day too late for the fair.' Had he only come in time, his Majesty
might have had one rebel less to deal with, and--"

But he was cut short by poor Margaret, who, unable to stand the
torture any longer, wailed out: "Oh, your Grace, do not say that!
My father was buried only a few months before my brother was
arrested, and he is the only one near to me now left."

Even the abominable flippancy of the man before us was arrested by
the sight of the anguish of this dear soul, and with some approach
to sensibility he said:

"There, there, my dear! We cannot mend matters now." And for some
minutes he heard and questioned Lady Jane with some shew of decency,
but evidently with an effort, for it was not long before he broke
out again: "How much simpler it would all be if you did not interfere,
madam!"

This angered her beyond control, and she replied: "Your Grace may
have no feeling for the sorrow that breaks the hearts of others,
but this is only a case for common justice."

"You, you, you have a keen sense of justice, madam," he stammered,
much nettled. "You are not wanting in courage, either; 'tis a pity
you could not have turned your talents to some account."

Poor Margaret, seeing the turn things were taking, now advanced,
and throwing herself at his feet, poured forth he