Soon after the foregoing transaction, a thing happened that, in a
manner, I would fain conceal and suppress from the knowledge of
future times, although it was but a sort of sprose to make the world
laugh. Fortunately for my character, however, it did not fall out
exactly in my hands, although it happened in the course of my
provostry. The matter spoken of, was the affair of a Frenchman who
was taken up as a spy; for the American war was then raging, and the
French had taken the part of the Yankee rebels.

One day, in the month of August it was, I had gone on some private
concernment of my own to Kilmarnock, and Mr Booble, who was then
oldest Bailie, naturally officiated as chief magistrate in my stead.

There have been, as the world knows, a disposition on the part of
the grand monarque of that time, to invade and conquer this country,
the which made it a duty incumbent on all magistrates to keep a
vigilant eye on the in-comings and out-goings of aliens and other
suspectable persons. On the said day, and during my absence, a
Frenchman, that could speak no manner of English, somehow was
discovered in the Cross-Key inns. What he was, or where he came
from, nobody at the time could tell, as I was informed; but there he
was, having come into the house at the door, with a bundle in his
hand, and a portmanty on his shoulder, like a traveller out of some
vehicle of conveyance. Mrs Drammer, the landlady, did not like his
looks; for he had toozy black whiskers, was lank and wan, and
moreover deformed beyond human nature, as she said, with a parrot
nose, and had no cravat, but only a bit black riband drawn through
two button-holes, fastening his ill-coloured sark neck, which gave
him altogether something of an unwholesome, outlandish appearance.