range of buildings on each side, which, broken only at the space
where the North Bridge joins the main street, formed a superb and
uniform place, extending from the front of the Lucken-booths to
the head of the Canongate, and corresponding in breadth and length
to the uncommon height of the buildings on either side.

Mannering had not much time to look and to admire. His conductor
hurried him across this striking scene, and suddenly dived with
him into a very steep paved lane. Turning to the right, they
entered a scale staircase, as it is called, the state of which, so
far as it could be judged of by one of his senses, annoyed
Mannering's delicacy not a little. When they had ascended
cautiously to a considerable height, they heard a heavy rap at a
door, still two stories above them. The door opened, and
immediately ensued the sharp and worrying bark of a dog, the
squalling of a woman, the screams of an assaulted cat, and the
hoarse voice of a man, who cried in a most imperative tone, 'Will
ye, Mustard? Will ye? down, sir, down!'

'Lord preserve us!' said the female voice, 'an he had worried our
cat, Mr. Pleydell would ne'er hae forgi'en me!'

'Aweel, my doo, the cat's no a prin the waur. So he's no in, ye
say?'

'Na, Mr. Pleydell's ne'er in the house on Saturday at e'en,'
answered the female voice.

'And the morn's Sabbath too,' said the querist. 'I dinna ken what
will be done.'