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bloody wark-1 kenna his name, but weel I can describe him.' Now,"conti. nued Carr, “if Shemus Macalester did na' ken vera well a' the outs an'ins, a' the ups and downs, a' the straucht and cruket ways o' this murky warl, l'se tak my aith, he could na' hae seen and tald a' this, and muckle mair, the whilk I dinna mind: but he said, seven years wad nae gang oure his head till he saw the neck powed o'twa right deel ripe reeking haund monsters.”” *St. Clyde was going to put some other questions to Carr, who now looked him full in the face for a second, and drawing a skeenocles from his sleeve, he thrust it into the ground, and seizing the right hand of St. Clyde with bisown left hand, he opened the fist of his. right, and brought the palm of it to his mouth to salute it, flourished his hand round his head, and came smack with it into the palm of St. Clyde's
right hand, and shook it, whilst his whole frame was convulsed with the shock into which the agitation of his mind cast him.
The disarming of himself whilst he plighted his faith, and the act of vowing friendship, occupied perhaps threeeights of a minute --it was not quite twenty-three seconds, words and all.
“You have done weel, Mr.St. Clyde to confide in me; Mr. Whiggans is as much worthy of trust, dear, as either the minister or baillie Ilan Dou.” And wheeling round, he picked up his knife from the barren ground, and wishing St. Clyde a good day, crossed the muir in the direction of Ettrick bay.
St. Clyde stood motionless, wrapped in dreams of imagination; gazing after Carr, who gradually decreased in size and distinctness, till his head and shoulders seemed to flicker on the verge of the muir's horizon, as, on looking at a projecting surface, we seem to conceive a livid kind of lustre bubbling and boiling out of the sun's rays: the man at length dived from the view of St. Clyde, who, when he had collected his wandering intellect, and mustered the powers of resolution, turning round quickly at a rustling he heard behind him, fixed his eyes on Sandy Glass.
Glass was curiosity's self to see, to speak to, and, if he could, to shake hands with his « auld friend Carr." Grief and care, the sudden transition from the one man to the other, but, above all, the re-action of former scenes on this interview with John Carr, standing alone on a lonely open muir, and suddenly seeing a being he could not be very desirous to meet with at such a time--this being darting upon him like the dæmon of terror; in short, the numberless objects that crowded on his view and obscured his intellect, gave an exquisitely romantic tone to the shapeless and indistinct picture which occupied St. Clyde's mind.
Glass cast his eyes on him as on 'a supernatural being. The murky darkness of Glass's mind, the 'indescribable eye, look, and attitude of St. Clyde, fixed the poor lad to the spot on which he stood; and reciprocally Glass, upon the first glance,
altogether indescribable to St. Clyde, who first broke silence: “ Is it you, Glass ?"" Ay is't, sir, e'en mysel;
And there was nae man that did her see,
With a heigh-ho, and a lily gay,
As the primrose spreads sae sweetly.”
“ Glass, what do you say, what do you do here? I'm glad to see you, but you should not have come here now. You must have seen I was en
gaged, and you must know, that to come before any person when engaged with another upon any business, is to behave very rudely."
Sandy was devotion's self to this lecture on propriety; and retreating backwards about two toises, whilst in this retrograde movement of his huge bulk, he gave evident symptoms of an inward struggle between respect and vengeance; for be seemed to draw up his whole body, and to coil his wrath and strength in one heap; but St. Clyde did not allow him to spend himself as his gathering brows and puckered mouth intimated; he advanced to Glass with a dreadful load of
passion in his eye. Poor Glass shrunk in an instant, and with the most fawn. ing caresses strove, by kissing his hand, drawing back, first his right leg, then his left, whilst the movements of both might be traced on the