'By the way, MacGregor,' Mr. Dundas suddenly said, giving the constable half-a-crown, 'go round, you and your companion, and have a dram, and I'll follow you to the court immediately.'

'You'll be sure to come?'

'On the honour of a gentleman. You know me.' Ach, she's brave, and wad gang to the teil hersel, if she gied her word. Come awa, Donald.'

Elmar,' said the laird, when the constables had left, I expect to be home in half an hour; but in case of accident detaining me, you'll take the gig, go up at your swiftest pace to Alan, and inform him of what has occurred. I suspect a little bit of treachery in this matter. I doubt Andrew Semple is in it. But in any event, keep your eyes about you.' 'Trust me. Only let that fellow take care.' 'But be cautious too. Don't commit yourself. The sky wall is close enough for comfort.'

'I understand; do not fear.'

When MacGregor and his companion went back to the court without their prisoner, the magistrates were of course thoroughly scandalised at being told that Mr. Dundas was coming in a few minutes. The two constables were put through a galling interrogative torture, which was like pouring fire on their Celtic spirits. MacGregor, who could bear it no longer, exclaimed,

'Hoch, tam! Mr. Dundas is a shentleman and a

man o' honour.

She'll be here in the craw o' a gemcock; and she'll no break her word for a' the teevils in-'

Silence, sir!' cried the sheriff; 'I shall send you to prison for contempt of court.'

Lord Carmyle, who sat upon the bench beside the sheriff, the Lord Provost, Mr. Reddie, and others, remarked that the constables were altogether out of order; but that nevertheless he would give his bond that Mr. Dundas would appear. The sheriff was not sure about that, and was about to dispatch other constables to Cockmylane, when the laird himself walked unconcernedly into court.

The Lord Provost fell rather snappishly upon him with a series of questions, which out of court would have been called impertinent. Now the laird had a grand manner, which he sometimes employed to put down obtrusive persons. He used that manner on this occasion, just for three seconds. Rising from his seat impressively, he did not so much as look at the Provost, but said,

'My Lord Sheriff, I am here; but why?'

The charge, or rather suspicion, which had been suggested against him was contained in an anonymous letter, written in the same hand, thought Bailie Strathern, as the letter formerly directed against Alan Dalziel. What the Bailie thought, Mr. Dundas suspected, particularly as it somehow ful

VOL. II.

M

filled the threat uttered by Andrew Semple on Saturday evening, during that brief skirmish at the mouth of the Old Wynd.

The allegation in the letter was that Mr. Dundas had contributed money to enable the Radicals to send a deputation to Carlisle. As, however, no such deputation had been sent to England, and for other reasons, the charge dissolved like mist before a very slight breeze of examination, so that the laird walked out of court unscathed.

Another person, against whom a similar charge was brought, also escaped, but with more difficulty, because, although he had actually given no money, he had promised some pecuniary assistance.

CHAPTER XXI.

BAFFLED.

ON Sunday morning Richmond sprang from his bed like a king going to his coronation. He felt assured that the Cromwell Club, and therefore the conspiracy, was dead and done for, and altogether through his policy of pulverisation. He felt that he had performed a masterly stroke of business-slowly,

silently, beat after beat, like the unseen, unheard, and almost unfelt action of that hand whose infinity of repetitive touches crumbles to dust the proudest monuments of human genius.

Regarding the fact of the club's death, the feeling of the spy was right; as to the manner of it he was quite wrong, as we know. It died, not according to his cunning scientific method-the method by which he had ordained that it should give up the ghost-but in the ordinary vulgar police style.

Having consumed a splendid breakfast, Richmond walked forth, head in heaven, sniffing exalted air, as if he were taking in at every inspiration some token and intelligence of his triumph.

He walked to the Green, on the northern border of which he stood, looking towards Cathkin Braes— a low range of hills running east and west, two miles from the city, and forming the south shore of what must have been an estuary some two or three million years ago, when the sea dashed where now is heard the shuttling and the spindling hum of men. As he gazed southward, Richmond's mind was busy, not with geologic eras, but with what would probably be the result to himself of the work which he had just finished.

Several times he looked eagerly along the Green in the direction of the city, as if waiting on some one. Apparently the person he expected was not

yet in sight, for he resumed his southward gaze and thoughtful attitude.

Unexpectedly Matt Kyle approached Richmond from behind, and gave him good-morning. The two men looked long and earnestly at each other, Richmond with a slightly supercilious glance in his eye, Kyle stolidly defiant. The arch spy knew that Kyle was engaged in the same business with himself; but Kyle only guessed that Richmond was captain of the ship in which he himself was a common seaman. They belonged to the same town, and knew each other, though evidently there was no love lost between them. After the commonplace salutations, Richmond said,

'Have you seen Campbell this morning?'

'No; and if ye expect him, ye'll no see him the day.'

'Indeed? Is he unwell ?'

'No that I ken o'; but he's got what some o' us wad like gay weel to get, though in a different sense.' 'What's that?'

6

'A billet under Government.'

'You speak in riddles, Kyle. Explain.'

It's a riddle that ane no sae sharp's yoursel' micht pick peas through. In plainer language, then, Campbell, Makane, and a' but ane that were at the club yestreen, were ta'en prisoners and lockit in gaol.'