I must pay the penalty of having interrupted the tiresome rascal, thought I to myself, and even gratify Mr. Fairservice by taking his communication on his own terms. Then raising my voice, I addressed him—“And after all, Andrew, what are these London news you had from your kinsman, the travelling merchant?”

“The pedlar, your honour means?” retorted Andrew—“but ca’ him what ye wull, they’re a great convenience in a country-side that’s scant o’ borough-towns, like this Northumberland—That’s no the case, now, in Scotland—There’s the kingdom o’ Fife, frae Culross to the East Nuik, it’s just like a great combined city—Sae mony royal boroughs yoked on end to end, like ropes of ingans, with their hie-streets, and their booths, nae doubt, and their kræmes, and houses of stane and lime and forestairs—Kirkcaldy, the sell o’t, is langer than ony town in England.”

“I daresay it is all very splendid and very fine—but you were talking of the London news a little while ago, Andrew.”

“Ay,” replied Andrew; “but I dinna think your honour cared to hear about them—howsoever” (he continued, grinning a ghastly smile), “Pate Macready does say, that they are sair mistrysted yonder in their Parliament House about this rubbery o’ Mr. Morris, or whatever they ca’ the chiel.”

“In the House of Parliament, Andrew! How came they to mention it there?”

“Ou, that’s just what I said to Pate; if it like your honour, I’ll tell you the very words; it’s no worth making a lie for the matter—‘Pate,’ said I, ‘what ado had the lords and lairds and gentles at Lunnun wi’ the carle and his walise?—When we had a Scotch Parliament, Pate,’ says I (and deil rax their thrapples that reft us o’t!), ‘they sate dousely down and made laws for a haill country and kinrick, and never fashed their beards about things that were competent to the judge ordinar o’ the bounds; but I think,’ said I, ‘that if ae kail-wife pou’d aff her neighbour’s mutch, they wad hae the twasome o’ them into the Parliament House o’ Lunnun. It’s just,’ said I, ‘amaist as silly as our auld daft laird here and his gomerils o’ sons, wi’ his huntsmen and his hounds, and his hunting cattle and horns, riding haill days after a bit beast that winna weigh sax punds when they hae catched it.’ ”

“You argued most admirably, Andrew,” said I, willing to encourage him to get into the marrow of his intelligence; “and what said Pate?”

“Ou,” he said, “what better cou’d be expected of a wheen pock-pudding English folk?—But as to the robbery, it’s like that when they’re a’ at the thrang o’ their Whig and Tory wark, and ca’ing ane anither, like unhanged blackguards—up gets ae lang-tongued chield, and he says, that a’ the north of England were rank Jacobites (and, quietly, he wasna far wrang maybe), and that they had levied amaist open war, and a king’s messenger had been stoppit and rubbit on the highway, and that the best bluid o’ Northumberland had been at the doing o’t—and mickle gowd ta’en aff him, and mony valuable papers; and that there was nae redress to be gotten by remeed of law, for the first justice o’ the peace that the rubbit man gaed to, he had fund the twa loons that did the deed birling and drinking wi’ him, wha but they; and the justice took the word o’ the tane for the compearance o’ the tither; and that they e’en gae him leg-bail, and the honest man that had lost his siller was fain to leave the country for fear that waur had come of it.”

“Can this be really true?” said I.

“Pate swears it’s as true as that his ellwand is a yard lang—(and so it is, just bating an inch, that it may meet the English measure)—And when the chield had said his warst, there was a terrible cry for names, and out comes he wi’ this man Morris’s name, and your uncle’s, and Squire Inglewood’s, and other folk’s beside” (looking sly at me)—“And then another dragon o’ a chield got up on the other side, and said, wad they accuse the best gentlemen in the land on the oath of a broken coward,—for it’s like that Morris had been drummed out o’ the army for rinning awa in Flanders; and he said, it was like the story had been made up between the minister and him or ever he had left Lunnun; and that, if there was to be a search-warrant granted, he thought the siller wad be fund some gate near to St. James’s Palace.