as hard as the heart of a Memel log?'

'In the evening, I grant you, Captain Hatteraick,' said Pleydell,
'but not in the forenoon. Will you favour me with information
where you were upon the day you remember so exactly?'

Hatteraick saw his blunder, and again screwed up his hard features
for obstinate silence. 'Put down his observation, however,' said
Pleydell to the clerk.

At this moment the door opened, and, much to the surprise of most
present, Mr. Gilbert Glossin made his appearance. That worthy
gentleman had, by dint of watching and eavesdropping, ascertained
that he was not mentioned by name in Meg Merrilies's dying
declaration--a circumstance certainly not owing to any favourable
disposition towards him, but to the delay of taking her regular
examination, and to the rapid approach of death. He therefore
supposed himself safe from all evidence but such as might arise
from Hatteraick's confession; to prevent which he resolved to push
a bold face and join his brethren of the bench during his
examination. 'I shall be able,' he thought, 'to make the rascal
sensible his safety lies in keeping his own counsel and mine; and
my presence, besides, will be a proof of confidence and innocence.
If I must lose the estate, I must; but I trust better things.'

He entered with a profound salutation to Sir Robert Hazlewood. Sir
Robert, who had rather begun to suspect that his plebeian
neighbour had made a cat's paw of him, inclined his head stiffly,
took snuff, and looked another way.