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ing a small Partner in our House, they made oath that I meditated departing this realm, and had recourse to a summary process of arrest and imprisonment, which it seems the law here allows, and—and here I am !—Oh dear!

Frank. Why did you not apply to our other Correspondent, Mr. Nicol Jarvie?

Owen. What, the cross-grained crabstock in the Salt-market? 'T would have been of no use. You might as well ask a broker to give you up his per centage, as expect a favour from him without the per contra. O! Mr. Frank! this is all your doing! but I beg pardon for saying so to you in your distress.

Enter Campbell haUily, and Dougal.

Doug. O hone a rie! O hone a rie!—what'Il she do now?—it's my Lord Provost, and the Bailies, and the Guard !—hide yoursel behind the bed,—The Captain has open'd the wicket!

Camp. Lend me your pistols—yet it's no matter, I can do without them. Whatever you see, take no heed—do not mix your hand in another man's quarrel. t [Exit Dougal.

—I must manage as I can.

Mattib enters, followed by Bailie Nicol Jarvie.

Bailie. (Looking back). I'll call when I want you, Stanchells. Dougal shall make all fast, or I'll make him fast, the scoundrel! A bonnie thing, and beseeming, that I should be kept at the door half an hour, knocking as hard to get into jail, as any body else would to get out on't! How's this ?—(Seeing Campbell and Frank)— Strangers in the Tolbooth after lock-up hours! Keep the door lpck'd, you Dougal—I'll" soon talk to these Gentlemen; but I must first have a crack with an old acquaintance.—Ah! Mr. Owen, how's all with you, Mr. Owen?

Owen. Pretty well, in body, Mr. Jarvie, I thank you, but sore afflicted in spirit.

Bailie. Ay, ay, we are all subject to downfals, as my father, the Deacon, used to say—" Nick," said he— (his name was Nicol, as well as mine, so the folks called us Young Nick, and Old Nick !)—" Young Nick," said he, "never put out your arm farther than you can draw it easily back again."

Owen. You need not have called these things to my memory in such a situation, Mr. Nicol Jarvie.

Bailie. What! do you think I came out at such a time o'night, to tell a falling man of his backslidings? — No—that's not Bailie Jarvie's way, nor his worthy father's, the Deacon, afore him. 1 soon discovered what lodgings your friends had provided you, Mr. Owen ;—but give us your list, man, and let us see how things stand between us while I rest my shanks. Mattie, hold the lantern.

(Taking Papers from Owen, and sitting at the corner of the Bed—Dougal at watch at the Door—Campbell moves towards it, making a sign to Frank).

Camp. Say nothing !—(in a low tone).

Bailie. Ey! look to the door there, you Dougal creature—let me hear you lock it, and keep watch on the outside.

Owen. There, Sir, you'll find the balance in the wrong column—for us—but you'll please to consider—

Bailie. There's no time to consider, Mr. Owen —'tis plain you owe me money; but I can't, for the soul of me, see how you'll clear it off by snoring here in the Tolbooth! Now, Sir, if you won't fly the country, you shall be at liberty in the morning.

Owen. O, Sir! O, Mr. Jarvie!

Bailie. I'm a careful man as any in the SalU market, and I'm a prudent man, as my father the Deacon, good soul! was before me—but rather than that double-faced dog, M'Vittie, shall keep an honest, civil gentleman by the heels, I'ii be your bail myself!—I'll be your bail—

(Owen goes up to him in raptures, but fails in his attempt to speak).

—There, you've said enough! but in the name of misrule, how got ye companions ?—Gi* me the 'light, Mattie.

(He catches it from her, and holding it towards Campbell, who is seated calmly on tlie Table, starts bach).

—Ey! My Conscience !—it's impossible—and yet I'm clean bambaized —why, you robber! you Cateran! you cheat-the,gallows rogue!

Owen. Bless me! it's my good friend, Mr. .Campbell! a very honest man, Mr. Jarv

Bailie, Honest!—My Conscience ! --You in the Glasgow Tolbooth !—What d'ye think's the Value of your head ?— (To Campbell).

Camp. Umph! why, fairly weighed — one Provost, four Baiiies, a Town Clerk, and six Deacons!

Bailie. Deacons '. Was there ever such a born

devil! but, tell over your sins, for if I say the word >

Camp. True, Bailie; but you never will say that word.

Bailie. And why not—why not, Sir?

Camp. For three sufficient reasons —First, for anld lang syne —Secondly, for the good wife, that made some mixture of our bloods—and last, Bailie Jarvie, because if I saw any sign of your betraying me, I'd plaister that wall with your brains, 'ere the hand of man could rescue you.

Bailie. (Clapping his hand to his head) —My Conscience!—Well, well, it would be quite as unpleasant for me to have my head knocked about, as it would be discreditable to string up a kinsman in a hempen cravat! —but, if it hadn't been yourself, I'd have gripp'd the best man in the Highlands.

Camp. You'd have tried, Bailie.

Bailie. And who the devil's this ? — (To Frank) — another honest man?

Owen. This, good Sir, is Mr. Francis Osbaldistone.

Bailie. O, I've heard o' this spark! run away from his father, in pure dislike to the labour an honest man should live by.—Well, Sir, what do you say to your handy-work?

Frank. My dislike of the commercial profession, Mr. Jarvie, is a feeling of which I am the best, and sole judge!

Owen. O dear !—(Owen holds up his hands).

Camp. It's manfully spoken! and I honour the lad for his contempt of weavers and spinners, and all such mechanical persons.

(Here Owen retires again to bed).

Bailie. Weavers and spinners indeed!—I'm a weaver and spinner, and who better? Will all your ancestry tell where Rashleigh is, or all your deep oaths and drawn dirks procure Mr. Frank five thousand pounds to answer the bills which fall due in ten days?

Frank. Ten days! is the time so near? T may then have recourse

(Frank has drawn out the Letter, opened it,
and an enclosure falls from the envelope
the Bailie catches it up).

Bailie. My Conscience !—for Rob Roy!
Frank. Rob Roy!

(Campbell instantly snatches the Letter ).

Bailie. As I'm a Bailie, there were ten thousand chances against its coming to hand.

Frank You are too hasty, Sir; I was not, in this instance, desirous of your interference.

Camp. Make yourself easy! Diana Vernon has more friends than you know of.

Frunk. Is it possible! is the fate of a being so amiable, involved in that of a man of such desperate fortunes and character?

Camp. (Having read aside) So, Rashleigh sent these papers to the Highlands. It's a hazardous game she has given me to play, but I'll not baulk her—Mr. Osbaldistone, you must visit me in the glens and, cousin, if you dare venture to shew him the way, and eat a leg of red deer venison with me, I'll pay the two hundred pounds I owe you; and you can leave Mr. Owen the while to do the best he can in Glasgow.

Bailie. Say no more, Robin—say no more!

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