“The Lord be thankit!" I wad say; "there'll be nae hunger and misery here in that case."

"No, my frien', nane o' thae human afflictions. We gie a guid day's wage for a guid day's wark; but the wark maun be guid—there's nae room for sham in this place. But come in, come in, and we'll see what can be done for ye. There's ae guid thing I've to say for ye, Pate."

"Ay, Peter, what's that?"

"Ye were aye willing to share your scone wi' the hungry."

66

“O, that's neither here nor there—dinna mention it !"

"Ah, Pate, Pate, I see that ye're no sae bad's ye look. Sit down, and I'll order ye something to eat. After that, we'll put ye in a bath, syne cleed ye wi' new claes, and mak' ye as bricht as the sun and the mune."

'Then I wad fa' doon on my knees, and say-'

At this moment Pate's monologue was broken by a sharp exclamation of distress, and almost before the twister knew what he was about, he had seized a young fellow by the throat, and threatened to choke the soul out of his body if he would not let the lassie alone.

'Go to the deuce, you old fool!' said the person whom Pate had grappled.

'Gang into the sheugh, ye son o' Sautan!' ans

wered Pate, as he hurled the dandy spark into the gutter, where his glory was extinguished in mud.

This little scene, it is necessary to say, took place at the corner of the Old Wynd, the opening into which (off the Trongate) was at that time imperfectly lighted. As the young fellow emerged from his unexpected bath, foaming with rage, he was making a dash towards Pate, who was standing beside a young girl whom he had rescued from molestation, when a new actor suddenly and silently stepped from the shade into the scene, seized the enemy by the collar, and whispered in his ear,

'Whither away, Andrew? You shouldn't fly so fast to ruin. Take your body off at once, or, by Jupiter, I will break every bone in your body!'

'You will pay for this!' gasped Andrew Semple, as he slunk currishly away, with a metaphoric tail between his feet.

Keep us! is that you, Mr. Dundas ?' asked Pate. 'You come like a ghost, out o' naething, and in the nick o' time. It's like magic.'

'Natural magic, Pate. I was just returning from the country when I saw you trundle that decent lad into his proper element.'

'Decent lad!' said Pate indignantly; 'the scoun'rel was meddlin' this bit lassie, when I-eh, d'ye ken her?'

This last exclamation was elicited from the twister

by the fact that the lassie of whom he spoke had flown and clung to Mr. Dundas, who, thoroughly surprised in his turn, said,

'Why, Christine, what on earth brings you here -and alone ?'

'Is Alan with you, father?' was all that the excited girl could say.

'No, dear, he is not, and he will not be in town till Monday. But what has this to do with Alan ?' 'Is what ye say true, Mr. Dundas? Will Alan no be hame the nicht?'

'Quite true, he won't.'

'Thank ye; my wark's done.'

'Come now, this is a fine bit of mystery. Am I to understand that you are both here after Alan ?'

'Sae it seems; and I jalouse it was for the same purpose to keep Alan frae gaun to a certain meetin'.' Then Pate, thinking that it could hardly be wrong to mention the reason to the laird, at whose house Lord Carmyle had already left some hint of it, added, 'I saw Lord Carmyle ridin' alang the Gallowgate the day, and he stoppit and gied me strict charges to warn Alan to keep at hame the nicht. D'ye see what he means?'

'I smell it. But to tell you the truth,' Mr. Dundas continued thoughtfully, it doesn't quite surprise me, though it is madness on both sides, all the same. Small fools and great fools, that's what they are.

The one party can only mangle, and the other party cannot, and hardly would if they could, mend the disease with which the country is afflicted.'

'A fine prospect for the puir country, atween doctors that canna and doctors that winna. If it was onything mair than rags to me, I micht sit doun on the cauld stanes and greet. What do ye expeck❜ll be the upshot?'

'Just the old upshot. In spite of her manglers and non-menders, the country will survive and despise them.'

That's ae drap o' comfort. But I maun bid ye guid-nicht.'

'Won't ye walk to Anderston with us, and take a bit of supper?'

'Do, Mr. Fox,' said Christine.

'Na, my dearie; I wad like to meet a frien' o' mine, and if I gang wi' ye, I couldna possibly see him. Maybe some ither time I'll dauner yont, though I'm no the kind o' sicht that folk in the wast like often to see.'

'Don't say that, Mr. Fox,' said Christine in an eager kindly manner, taking the twister's hand; 'Lord Carmyle was at our house to-day, but you'll be as welcome there as if you were his brother; so don't forget to come.'

6

That's my oracle, Pate,' said the laird; do not resist her.'

'The Lord bless ye, my bonnie bairn!' said the twister in profound sincerity, taking a long earnest look into her eyes; 'it's a kind o' salvation to see a face and hear a voice like yours; and whether I see ye again soon or no, I'll no forget ye in a hurry.'

CHAPTER XVIII.

FOLLY REJECTS WISDOM.

CHRISTINE and her father did not speak much on the way home. He had no difficulty in understanding her conduct. Miss Walkingshaw had given her a guarded account of what Lord Carmyle wanted, and Christine, apprehensive that Alan might get into danger which could be avoided, perpetrated a very natural act of extravagance in venturing into the city alone at night to warn her lover. Her encounter with Semple might, under less favourable circumstances, have led to consequences more annoying than it did. As it was, he came suddenly upon her, and somewhat rudely attempted to take her hand. This produced that acclamation which drew Pate's attention to them, and led to Andrew's malodorous downfall.

When Miss Walkingshaw was informed of Chris