that was abroad, and of procuring the appointment of a commission with unlimited power to extirpate it. The good monarch, upon the departure of Douglas, turns to his son, and tells him that a follower of his had been engaged in that nocturnal affray. The ring of Ramorny had been found by one of the followers of Douglas. It was Ramorny, the monarch said, who had led the young Prince into those fatal courses, and Ramorny must be cut off. He called to the captain of his guard, but Rothsay interposed on behalf of his late associate, promising at the same time to dismiss him forthwith from his service, which he accordingly does.

At the foot of a rock, on the side of the hill of Kinnoul, which commands one of the most beautiful prospects in Scotland, sat the Fair Maid of Perth, listening with deep attention to the instructions, and joining fervently in the prayers of a Carthusian Monk. This was that Father Clement, of whom mention has already been made. Having embraced the doctrines of Wickliffe, and been stigmatised as a Lollard, he dwelt among rocks and solitudes, and was now a designated victim of the Inquisitorial commission which had been just raised. He had been long inculcating his opinions in the family of the Glover-and had thus acquired very great influence with Catharine, and the youth Conachar. In the course of their conversation, which turned upon the calamities of the times, and the corruptions of the church, Catharine tells him that she has provided for him a retreat in the highlands, among the tribe of his Celtic neophyte. He takes occasion to sound her upon the subject of the Smith, whom he denounces as a man of blood, reprobating at the same time what he calls the heathenish custom of Valentines. He ventures to intimate, that her beauty might aspire to a Prince's lovethat Rothsay had discarded his evil adviser Ramorny, and now felt for her a purer and more honourable passion-that he might easily obtain a divorce from his slighted Dutchess, Marjory Douglasthat others had been raised by their personal charms to the same elevation, and old prophecies had foretold that Rome should fall by the speech of a woman. The Maid of Perth, astonished at the ambitious views of her spiritual guide, sweetly chid him for so strange a dream. The old man's eyes filled with tears, and he acknowledged the justness of her "grave rebuke, severe in youthful beauty."

"Catharine had raised her head to reply, and bid the old man, whose humiliation gave her pain, be comforted, when her eyes were arrested by an object close at hand. Among the crags and cliffs which surrounded this place of seclusion, there were two which stood in such close contiguity, that they seemed to have been portions of the same

rock, which rended by lightning or an earthquake, now exhibited a chasm of about four feet in breadth, betwixt the masses of stone. Into this chasm an oak tree had thrust itself, in one of the fantastic frolics which vegetation often exhibits in such situations. The tree, stunted and ill-fed, had sent its roots along the face of the rock in all directions to seek for supplies, and they lay like military lines of communication, contorted, twisted, and knotted like the immense snakes of the Indian archipelago. As Catharine's look fell upon the curious complication of knotty branches and twisted roots, she was suddenly sensible that two large eyes were visible among them, fixed and glaring at her, like those of a wild animal in ambush. She started, and without speaking, pointed out the object to her companion, and looking herself with more strict attention, could at length trace out the bushy red hair and shaggy beard, which had hitherto been concealed by the drooping branches and contorted roots of the tree.

When he saw himself discovered, the Highlander, for such he proved, stepped forth from his lurking-place, and stalking forward, displayed a colossal person, clothed in a purple, red, and green-checked plaid, under which he wore a jacket of bull's hide. His bow and arrows were at his back, his head was bare, and a large quantity of tangled locks, like the glibbs of the Irish, served to cover the head, and supplied all the purposes of a bonnet. His belt bore a sword and dagger, and he had in his hand a Danish pole-axe, more recently called a Lochaber axe. Through the same rude portal advanced, one by one, four men more, of similar size, and dressed and armed in the same manner.

Catharine was too much accustomed to the appearance of the in habitants of the mountains so near to Perth, to permit herself to be alarmed, as another Lowland maiden might have been on the same occasion. She saw with tolerable composure these gigantic forms arrange themselves in a semicircle around and in front of the Monk and herself, all bending upon them in silence their large fixed eyes, expressing, as far as she could judge, a wild admiration of her beauty. She inclined her head to them, and uttered imperfectly the usual words of a Highland salutation. The elder and leader of the party returned the greeting, and then again remained silent and motionless. The Monk told his beads; and even Catharine began to have strange fears for her personal safety, and anxiety to know whether they were to consider themselves at personal freedom. She resolved to make the experiment, and moved forward as if to descend the hill; but when she attempted to pass the line of Highlanders, they extended their pole-axes betwixt each other, so as effectually to occupy each opening through which she could have passed.

Somewhat disconcerted, yet not dismayed, for she could not conceive that any evil was intended, she sat down upon one of the scattered fragments of rock, and bade the Monk, standing by her side, be of good courage.

'If I fear,' said Father Clement, 'it is not for myself; for whether I be brained with the axes of these wild men, like an ox when, worn out by labour, he is condemed to the slaughter, or whether I am bound with their bow-strings, and delivered over to those who will take my life with

more cruel ceremony, it can but little concern me, if they suffer thee, dearest daughter, to escape uninjured.'

We have neither of us,' replied the Maiden of Perth, 'any cause for apprehending evil; and here comes Conachar, to assure us of it.'

Yet as she spoke, she almost doubted her own eyes; so altered were the manner and attire of the handsome, stately, and almost splendidly dressed youth, who, springing like a roebuck, from a cliff of considerable height, lighted just in front of her. His dress was of the same tartan worn by those who had first made their appearance, but closed at the throat and elbows with a necklace and armlets of gold. The hauberk which he wore over his person, was of steel, but so clearly burnished, that it shone like silver. His arms were profusely ornamented, and his bonnet, besides the eagle's feather, marking the quality of chief, was ornamented with a chain of gold, wrapt several times around it, and secured by a large clasp, adorned with pearls. His brooch, by which the tartan mantle, or plaid, as it is now called, was secured on the shoulder, was also of gold, large and curiously carved. He bore no weapon in his hand, excepting a small sapling stick with a hooked head. His whole appearance and gait, which used formerly to denote a sullen feeling of conscious degradation, was now bold, forward, and haughty; and he stood before Catharine with smiling confidence, as if fully conscious of his improved appearance, and waiting till she should recognise him.

Conachar,' said Catharine, desirous to break this state of suspense, are these your father's men?'

'No, fair Catharine,' answered the young man. 'Conachar is no more, unless in regard to the wrongs he has sustained, and the vengeance which they demand. I am Ian Eachin Mac Ian, son to the Chief of the Clan Quhele. I have moulted my feathers, as you see, when I changed my name. And for these men, they are not my father's followers, but mine. You see only one half of them collected; they form a band consisting of my foster-father and eight sons, who are my body-guard, and the children of my belt, who breathe but to do my will. But Conachar,' he added, in a softer tone of voice, 'lives again so soon as Catharine desires to see him; and while he is the young Chief of the Clan Quhele to all others, he is to her as humble and obedient as when he was Simon Glover's apprentice. See, here is the stick I had from you when we nutted together in the sunny braes of Lednoch, when Autumn was young in the year that is gone. I would not part with it, Catharine, for the truncheon of my tribe."" pp. 208-211.

Taking her leave of Father Clement and Eachin MacIan, Catharine returns, not without some apprehensions for her safety, to the city. She might encounter the terrible Ramorny, who had sworn vengeance against her father and the Smith, if she dared to become the wife of the latter; and, indeed, it was these threats that had inclined her to retire to a monastery. But who is this dreaded and detested Ramorny?

“In a darkened apartment, where salves and medicines showed that the leech had been busy in his craft, a tall thin form lay on a bed, arrayed in a night-gown belted around him, with pain on his brow, and a thousand stormy passions agitating his bosom. Every thing in the apartment indicated a man of opulence and of expense. Henbane Dwining, the apothecary, who seemed to have the care of the patient, stole with a crafty and cat-like step from one corner of the room to the other, busying himself with mixing medicines and preparing dressings. The sick man groaned once or twice, on which the leech, advancing to his bed-side, asked whether these sounds were a token of the pain of his body, or of the distress of his mind.

'Of both, thou poisoning varlet,' said Sir John Ramorny; and of being encumbered with thy accursed company."

"If that is all, I can relieve your knighthood of one of these ills, by removing myself elsewhere. Thanks to the feuds of this boisterous time, had I twenty hands, instead of these too poor servants of my art, (displaying his skinny palms) there is enough of employment for them; well requited employment too, where thanks and crowns contend which shall best pay my services; while you, Sir John, wreak upon your chirurgeon the anger you ought only to bear against the author of your wound.'

'Villain, it is beneath me to reply to thee,' said the patient; 'but every word of thy malignant tongue is a dirk, inflicting wounds which set all the medicines of Arabia at defiance.'

'Sir John, I understand you not; but if you give way to these tempestuous fits of rage, it is impossible but fever and inflammation must be the result.'

'Why then dost thou speak in a sense to chafe my blood? Why dost thou name the supposition of thy worthless self having more hands than nature gave thee, while I, a knight and gentleman, am mutilated like a cripple?'

'Sir John,' replied the chirurgeon, 'I am no divine, nor a mainly obstinate believer in some things which divines tell us. Yet I may remind you that you have been kindly dealt with; for if the blow which has done you this injury had lighted on your neck, as it was aimed, it would have swept your head from your shoulders, instead of amputating a less considerable member.'

'I wish it had, Dwining-I wish it had lighted as it was addressed I should not then have seen a policy, which had spun a web so fine as mine, burst through the brute force of a drunken churl. I should not have been reserved to see horses which I must not mount-lists which I must no longer enter-splendours which I cannot hope to share-or battles which I must not take part in. I should not, with a man's passions for power and for strife, be set to keep place among the women, despised by them, too, as a miserable, impotent cripple, unable to aim at obtaining the favour of the sex.'

'Supposing all this to be so, I will yet pray of your knighthood to remark,' replied Dwining, still busying himself with arranging the dressings of the wounds, 'that your eyes, which you must have lost with your head, may, being spared to you, present as rich a prospect of

pleasure as either ambition, or victory in the lists or in the field, or the love of woman itself, could have proposed to you.'

My sense is too dull to catch thy meaning, leech,' replied Ramorny. What is this precious spectacle reserved to me in such a shipwreck?' 'The dearest that mankind knows' replied Dwining; and then, in the accent of a lover who utters the name of his beloved mistress, and expresses his passion for her in the very tone of his voice, he added the word REVENGE!'

The patient had raised himself on his couch to listen with some anxiety for the solution of the physician's enigma. He laid himself down again as he heard it explained, and after a short pause, asked 'In what Christian college learned you this morality, good Master Dwining?"

'In no Christian college,' answered his physician; for though it is privately received in most, it is, openly and manfully adopted in none. But I have studied among the sages of Granada, where the fiery-souled Moor lifts high his deadly dagger as it drops with his enemy's blood, and avows the doctrine which the pallid Christian practises, though coward-like he dare not name it.'

• Thou art then a more high-souled villain than I deemed thee,' said Ramorny.

'Let that pass,' answered Dwining. 'The waters that are stillest, are also the deepest; and the foe is most to be dreaded who never threatens till he strikes. You knights and men-at-arms, go straight to your purpose with sword in hand. We, who are clerks, win our access with a noiseless step and an indirect approach, but attain our object not less surely.'

And I,' said the knight, 'who have trod to my revenge with a mailed foot, which made all echo around it, must now use such a slipper as thine? Ha!' pp. 215-218.

The malignant Pottingar then proposes to him to assassinate the Smith. It is determined upon, and Ramorny bids his page fetch in Bonthron if he be sober. This brutal wretch, a huge misshapen monster, kept by his master like a bloodhound for such purposes, is introduced and instructed in his present business. The conversation between Ramorny and Henbane Dwining then proceeds in the same strain as before.

"But my hand-the loss of my hand—'

'It may be kept secret for a time,' said the mediciner; 'I have possessed two or three tattling fools, in deep confidence, that the hand which was found was that of your knighthood's groom, Black Quentin, and your knighthood knows that he is parted for Fife, in such sort as to make it generally believed.'

'I know well enough,' said Ramorny, 'that the rumour may stifle the truth for a short time. But what avails this brief delay ?"

'It may be concealed till your knighthood retires for a time from the court, and then, when new accidents have darkened the recollection of the present stir, it may be imputed to a wound received from the shiv