The next letter from the Shepherd thanks Murray for some “timeous” aid, and asks a novel favour.

May 7, 1815.

I leave Edinburgh on Thursday for my little farm on Yarrow.  I will have a confused summer, for I have as yet no home that I can dwell in; but I hope by-and-by to have some fine fun there with you, fishing in Saint Mary’s Loch and the Yarrow, eating bull-trout, singing songs, and drinking whisky.  This little possession is what I stood much in need of—­a habitation among my native hills was what of all the world I desired; and if I had a little more money at command, I would just be as happy a man as I know of; but that is an article of which I am ever in want.  I wish you or Mrs. Murray would speer me out a good wife with a few thousands.  I dare say there is many a romantic girl about London who would think it a fine ploy to become a Yarrow Shepherdess!  Believe me, dear Murray,

Very sincerely yours, JAMES HOGG.

Here, for the present, we come to an end of the Shepherd’s letters; but we shall find him turning up again, and Mr. Murray still continuing his devoted friend and adviser.

CHAPTER XIV

LORD BYRON’S DEALINGS WITH MR. MURRAY—­continued_

On January 2, 1815, Lord Byron was married to Miss Milbanke, and during the honeymoon, while he was residing at Seaham, the residence of his father-in-law Sir Ralph Milbanke, he wrote to Murray desiring him to make occasional enquiry at his chambers in the Albany to see if they were kept in proper order.

John Murray to Lord Byron.

February 17, 1815.

MY LORD,

I have paid frequent attention to your wish that I should ascertain if all things appeared to be safe in your chambers, and I am happy in being able to report that the whole establishment carries an appearance of security, which is confirmed by the unceasing vigilance of your faithful and frigid Duenna [Mrs. Mule].

Every day I have been in expectation of receiving a copy of “Guy Mannering,” of which the reports of a friend of mine, who has read the first two volumes, is such as to create the most extravagant expectations of an extraordinary combination of wit, humour and pathos.  I am certain of one of the first copies, and this you may rely upon receiving with the utmost expedition.

I hear many interesting letters read to me from the Continent, and one in particular from Mr. Fazakerly, describing his interview of four hours with Bonaparte, was particularly good.  He acknowledged at once to the poisoning of the sick prisoners in Egypt; they had the plague, and would have communicated it to the rest of his army if he had carried them on with him, and he had only to determine if he should leave them to a cruel death by the Turks, or to an easy one by poison.  When asked his motive for becoming a Mahomedan, he replied that there were great political