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Villejuive; yet all Carr would say amounted only to this," the nimble feet of justice were still in pursuit of the murderers of the Laird St. Clyde." Carr was employed as the ostensible messenger of all the news Whiggans wished the minister to possess, for Sandy Glass he could not always rely on.

This old man had been sent by Whiggans to give this further notice to the minister, by leaving a letter for Mr. Thornbill at some house in the neighbourhood of the manse; and though he might not tell the minister personally, he made no secret to Levingstone of his suspicions that Villejuive had not gone away to St. Omer, but somewhere else; and Whiggans would never put himself within the power of any man; he had too much respect for Mr. Thornhill to put the tried loyalty of the clergyman to the test, by coming into his presence even

as an avenger of the blood of St. Clyde. Carr was, therefore, the fittest person to be employed in watching the man-: œuvres of Villejuive, gaining intelligence of the arrival of Colin from Mull, and communicating the results of these as Whiggans directed to the minister, by conveying letters and notes, so as to render it impracticable to ascertain who had written or delivered them; and this old man was liberally rewarded by the indefatigable Whiggans.

Carr knew all the coast of the island. of Bute, though himself had originally been born in Campbelton, and he was well fitted to give the signal to the smugglers where to land. But this was absolutely necessary, since Whiggans's people were now again at sea with a fine new lugger.

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As Levingstone was enjoined secrecy by Carr, the minister continued to be the dupe of his own suspicions; and

the confidence the daring outlaw reposed in St. Clyde, Levingstone, John Carr, and even Sandy Glass, was not once abused and betrayed, so much did virtue,ignorance,andinnocence, respect the disinterested honour of a smuggler!

Sandy Glass (if Levingstone met him) had but one theme to dwell on, the loss of his friend the laird, and the forlorn condition of "his young lady," for "my young lady," and "our friendless lady," were the epithets this lad used to designate Miss Ellen St. Clyde. It was impossible for Levingstone to listen to the language of respect used towards the idol of his heart, by a youth, whose murky reason seemed to be but sportively cased in a figure of giant-mould and Herculean strength; for Glass still continued to grow tall and strong, but his size seemed to crush with nothingness, the glimmering rays of intelligence that occasionally visited his cranium.

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Glass had now fallen upon another expedient to find out the murderer of the laird. This plan was nothing more nor less than applying to a "cailleach," noted for her sagacity and piety, and who was also held in good faith by folks of more reason than Glass to be a witch. As Levingstone had been at college, and as Glass thought that in every college, as at Padua, the knowledge of the Cabala alone was learned, so from having heard, he believed the vulgar report, that when a class of students has made a certain progress in their mystic studies, they are obliged to run through a subterraneous hall, where the old fiend, commonly called the devil, literally catches the hindermost in the race, unless he crosses the hall so speedily that the arch enemy can only apprehend his shadow. And though on this score poor Sandy never attacked young St. Clyde, whom he knew to have been at college, as well

as Levingstone; the confidence he reposed in the latter from being liberally treated by him, made Glass actually ask Levingstone if he could not make "the serpents dance," and get "weans out o' bow-kail."

It was in vain that Levingstone referred Sandy to the shadow of both as the sun shone: Glass believed firmly in the existence of an intermediate class of spirits residing in the air, or in the waters; and though he did not himself fear they would injure him, to their agency he ascribed every flood 'from the mountain, every gale from the ocean, the death of every cow, and the leanness of every horse; and as the milk his mother was that very morning going to make cheese of, would not curd, Glass, impatient under the assurances of Levingstone that there was no truth in the cabalistic art, persisted in his entreaties that "the skilfu'i' auld Michael's airt o' graman

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