door of Monkbarns to sell fish to Miss Griselda, the Antiquary's
sister, when the pair of them would stand by the hour "skirling and
flyting beneath his window like so many seamaws," as Oldbuck himself
said.

Besides Steenie Mucklebackit, the eldest son, the same who had assisted
Edie Ochiltree to bestow a well-deserved chastisement upon
Dousterswivel, and a number of merry half-naked urchins, the family
included the grandmother, Elspeth Mucklebackit--a woman old, but not
infirm, whose understanding appeared at most times to be asleep, but the
stony terror of whose countenance often frightened the bairns more than
their mother's shrill tongue and ready palm.

Elspeth seldom spoke. Indeed, she had done little for many years except
twirl the distaff in her corner by the fire. Few cared to have much to
do with her. She was thought to be "far from canny," and certainly she
knew more about the great family of Glenallan than it was safe to speak
aloud.

It chanced on the very night when Edie and Steenie had given a skinful
of sore bones to the German impostor Dousterswivel, that the Countess of
Glenallan, mother of the Earl, was brought to be buried at midnight
among the ruins of St. Ruth.

Such had been the custom of the family from ancient times--indeed, ever
since the Great Earl fell fighting at the Red Harlaw against Donald of
the Isles. More recently there had been another reason for such a
strange fashion of burial. For the family were Catholics, and there had
long been laws in Scotland against the holding of popish ceremonials
even on an occasion so solemn.

The news of the death of her ancient mistress, coming at last to the
ears of old Elspeth, took such hold upon her, that she could not rest
till she had sent off Edie Ochiltree to the Earl of Glenallan, at
Glenallan House, with a ring for a token and the message that Elspeth of
the Craigburnfoot must see him before she died. She had, Edie was to
say, a secret on her soul, without revealing which she could not hope to
die in peace.

Accordingly Edie set off for the castle of Glenallan, taking the ring
with him, but with very little hope of finding his way into the Earl's
presence; for Lord Glenallan had been long completely withdrawn from the
world. His mother was Countess in her own right, and so long as she
lived, her son had been wholly dependent upon her. In addition to which
some great sorrow or some great crime, the countryside was not sure
which, pres