where, is to be found lurking in the Border counties, and some from the general love of mischief, which characterizes mankind in all ranks of life, to the honour of Adam’s children be it spoken.  Good John Barleycorn also, who always heightens and exaggerates the prevailing passions, be they angry or kindly, was not wanting in his offices on this occasion; and confusion to false friends and hard masters, was pledged in more than one tankard.

In the meanwhile, Mr. Ireby found some amusement in detaining the northern drover at his ancient hall.  He caused a cold round of beef to be placed before the Scot in the butler’s pantry, together with a foaming tankard of home-brewed, and took pleasure in seeing the hearty appetite with which these unwonted edibles were discussed by Robin Oig M’Combich.  The squire himself lighting his pipe, compounded between his patrician dignity and his love of agricultural gossip, by walking up and down while he conversed with his guest.

“I passed another drove,” said the squire, with one of your countrymen behind them, they were something less beasts than your drove—­doddies most of them; a big man was with them—­none of your kilts though, but a decent pair of breeches;—­d’ye know who he may be?”

“Hout ay—­that might, could, and would pe Hughie Morrison—­I didna think he could hae peen sae weel up.  He has made a day on us; put his Argyle-shires will have wearied shanks.  How far was he pehind?”

“I think about six or seven miles,” answered the squire, “for I passed them at the Christenbury Cragg, and I overtook you at the Hollan Bush.  If his beasts be leg-weary, he will be may be selling bargains.”

“Na, na, Hughie Morrison is no the man for pargains—­ye maun come to some Highland body like Robin Oig hersell for the like of these;—­put I maun be wishing you good night, and twenty of them, let alane ane, and I maun down to the Clachan to see if the lad Henry Waakfelt is out of his humdudgeons yet.”

The party at the alehouse were still in full talk, and the treachery of Robin Oig still the theme of conversation, when the supposed culprit entered the apartment.  His arrival, as usually happens in such a case, put an instant stop to the discussion of which he had furnished the subject, and he was received by the company assembled with that chilling silence, which more than a thousand exclamations tells an intruder that he is unwelcome.  Surprised and offended, but not appalled by the reception which he experienced, Robin entered with an undaunted, and even a haughty air, attempted no greeting as he saw he was received with none, and placed himself by the side of the fire, a little apart from a table, at which Harry Wakefield, the bailiff, and two or three other persons, were seated.  The ample Cumbrian kitchen would have afforded plenty of room even for a larger separation.

Robin, thus seated, proceeded to light his pipe, and call for a pint of twopenny.