bottom of the close where this thoughtless party had been
assembled.

Several of them, on first hearing the report, basted to the dead-
room in the Guard-house, where the corpse had been deposited,
and soon discovered the body to be that of their friend and late
entertainer, George Colwan. Great were the consternation and
grief of all concerned, and, in particular, of his old father and
Miss Logan; for George had always been the sole hope and
darling of both, and the news of the event paralysed them so as
to render them incapable of all thought or exertion. The spirit
of the old laird was broken by the blow, and he descended at
once from a jolly, good-natured and active man to a mere
driveller, weeping over the body of his son, kissing his wound,
his lips, and his cold brow alternately; denouncing vengeance on
his murderers, and lamenting that he himself had not met the
cruel doom, so that the hope of his race might have been
preserved. In short, finding that all further motive of action and
object of concern or of love, here below, were for ever removed
from him, he abandoned himself to despair, and threatened to go
down to the grave with his son.

But, although he made no attempt to discover the murderers, the
arm of justice was not idle; and, it being evident to all that the
crime must infallibly be brought home to young Drummond,
some of his friends sought him out, and compelled him, sorely
against his will, to retire into concealment till the issue of the
proof that should be led was made known. At the same time, he
denied all knowledge of the incident with a resolution that
astonished his intimate friends and relations, who to a man