"Who I am!" returned the other, quite unmoved; "and, pray who may he
be?"

"Sir Tammas Gourlay; an' all tell you what, if you don't wish to see
him, why don't see him. A 'll take him the message, an' if there's
anything about you that you don't wish to be known or heard, make
him keep his distance. He's this minute in a de'il of a passion about
something, an' was comin' up as if he'd ait you without salt, but a'
would n't allow it; so, if you don't wish to see him, am the boy won't
be afeard to say so. He's not coming as a friend, a' can tell you."

"Sir Thomas Gourlay's in the house, then," said the stranger, with a
good deal of surprise. He then paused for some time, and, during this
pause, he very naturally concluded that the baronet had witnessed his
daughter's bow, so cautiously and significantly made to himself as she
passed. Whilst he turned over these matters in his mind, the landlord
addressed Fenton as follows:

"You can go to another room, Fenton. A'm glad to see you in a decent
suit of clothes, any way--a' hope you'll take yourself up, and avoid
drink and low company; for de'il a haet good ever the same two brought
anybody; but, before you go, a'll give you a gless o' grog to drink the
Glorious Memory. Come, now, tramp, like a good fellow."

"I have a particular wish," said the stranger, "that Mr. Fenton should
remain; and say to Sir Thomas Gourlay that I am ready to see him."

"A' say, then," said Jack, in a friendly whisper, "be on your edge with
him, for, if he finds you saft, the very de'il won't stand him."