This conveyed no information, and Edward, repeating his queries, received a rapid answer, in which, from the haste and peculiarity of the dialect, the word ‘butler’ was alone intelligible.  Waverley then requested to see the butler; upon which the fellow, with a knowing look and nod of intelligence, made a signal to Edward to follow, and began to dance and caper down the alley up which he had made his approaches.—­A strange guide this, thought Edward, and not much unlike one of Shakespeare’s roynish clowns.  I am not over prudent to trust to his pilotage; but wiser men have been led by fools.—­By this time he reached the bottom of the alley, where, turning short on a little parterre of flowers, shrouded from the east and north by a close yew hedge, he found an old man at work without his coat, whose appearance hovered between that of an upper servant and gardener; his red nose and ruffed shirt belonging to the former profession; his hale and sunburnt visage, with his green apron, appearing to indicate

     Old Adam’s likeness, set to dress this garden.

The major domo—­for such he was, and indisputably the second officer of state in the barony (nay, as chief minister of the interior, superior even to Bailie Macwheeble, in his own department of the kitchen and cellar)—­the major domo laid down his spade, slipped on his coat in haste, and with a wrathful look at Edward’s guide, probably excited by his having introduced a stranger while he was engaged in this laborious, and, as he might suppose it, degrading office, requested to know the gentleman’s commands.  Being informed that he wished to pay his respects to his master, that his name was Waverley, and so forth, the old man’s countenance assumed a great deal of respectful importance.  ’He could take it upon his conscience to say, his honour would have exceeding pleasure in seeing him.  Would not Mr. Waverley choose some refreshment after his journey?  His honour was with the folk who were getting doon the dark hag; the twa gardener lads (an emphasis on the word twa) had been ordered to attend him; and he had been just amusing himself in the meantime with dressing Miss Rose’s flower-bed, that he might be near to receive his honour’s orders, if need were:  he was very fond of a garden, but had little time for such divertisements.’

’He canna get it wrought in abune twa days in the week at no rate whatever,’ said Edward’s fantastic conductor.

A grim look from the butler chastised his interference, and he commanded him, by the name of Davie Gellatley, in a tone which admitted no discussion, to look for his honour at the dark hag, and tell him there was a gentleman from the south had arrived at the Ha’.

‘Can this poor fellow deliver a letter?’ asked Edward.

’With all fidelity, sir, to any one whom he respects.  I would hardly trust him with a long message by word of mouth—­though he is more knave than fool.’

Waverley delivered his credentials to Mr. Gellatley, who seemed to confirm the butler’s last observation, by twisting his features at him, when he was looking another way, into the resemblance of the grotesque face on the bowl of a German tobacco-pipe; after which, with an odd conge to Waverley, he danced off to discharge his errand.