grandfather of the intelligent man of the same name, now deceased, who
lately kept the inn in the vicinity of Loch Katrine, and acted as a guide
to visitors through that beautiful scenery. From him I learned the story
many years before he was either a publican, or a guide, except to
moorfowl shooters.--It was evening (to resume the story), and the Duke
was pressing on to lodge his prisoner, so long sought after in vain, in
some place of security, when, in crossing the Teith or Forth, I forget
which, MacGregor took an opportunity to conjure Stewart, by all the ties
of old acquaintance and good neighbourhood, to give him some chance of an
escape from an assured doom. Stewart was moved with compassion, perhaps
with fear. He slipt the girth-buckle, and Rob, dropping down from behind
the horse's croupe, dived, swam, and escaped, pretty much as described in
the Novel. When James Stewart came on shore, the Duke hastily demanded
where his prisoner was; and as no distinct answer was returned, instantly
suspected Stewart's connivance at the escape of the Outlaw; and, drawing
a steel pistol from his belt, struck him down with a blow on the head,
from the effects of which, his descendant said, he never completely
recovered.

In the success of his repeated escapes from the pursuit of his powerful
enemy, Rob Roy at length became wanton and facetious. He wrote a mock
challenge to the Duke, which he circulated among his friends to amuse
them over a bottle. The reader will find this document in the Appendix.*
It is written in a good hand, and not particularly deficient in grammar
or spelling.

* Appendix, No. III.

Our Southern readers must be given to understand that it was a piece of
humour,--a _quiz,_ in short,--on the part of the Outlaw, who was too