CHAPTER XX.

NARRATIVE OF DARSIE LATIMER " CONTINUED.

JOE CRACKENTHORPE's public-house had never since it first reared its chimneys on the banks of the Solway, been frequented by such a miscellaneous groupe of visitors as had that morning become its guests. Several of them were persons whose quality seemed much superior to their dresses and modes of travelling. The servants who attended them contradicted the inferences to be drawn from the garb of their masters, and, ac cording to the custom of the knights of the rainbow, gave many hints that they were not people to serve any but men of first-rate consequence. These gentlemen, who had come thither chiefly for the purpose of meeting with Mr Redgauntlet, seemed moody and anxious, conversed and walked together, apparently in deep conversation, and avoided any communication with the chance

travellers whom accident brought that morning to the same place of resort.

As if Fate had set herself to confound the plans of the Jacobite conspirators, the number of travellers was unusually affluent and miscellaneous, and filled the public tap-room of the inn, where the political guests had already occupied most of the private apartments.

Amongst others, honest Joshua Geddes had arrived, travelling, as he said, in the sorrow of the soul, and mourning for the fate of Darsie Latimer as he would for his first-born child. He had skirted the whole coast of the Solway, besides making various trips into the interior, not shunning, on such occasions, to expose himself to the laugh of the scorner, nay, even to se rious personal risk, by frequenting the haunts of smugglers, horse-jockeys, and other irregular persons, who looked on his intrusion with jealous eyes, and were apt to consider him as an exciseman in the disguise of a Quaker. All this labour and peril, however, had been undergone in vain. No research he could make obtained the least intelligence of Latimer, so that he began to fear the poor lad had been spirited abroad; for the prac tice of kidnapping was then not unfrequent, es pecially on the western coasts of Britain, if indeed he had escaped a briefer and more bloody fate,

With a heavy heart, he delivered his horse, even Solomon, into the hands of the hostler, and walking into the inn, demanded from the landlord breakfast and a private room. Quakers, and such hosts as old Father Crackenthorpe, are no congenial spirits; the latter looked askew over his shoulder, and replied, «If you would have breakfast here, friend, you are like to eat it where other folks eat theirs.»

«And wherefore can I not," said the Quaker, «have an apartment to myself, for my money ? » Because, Master Jonathan, you must wait till your betters be served, or else eat with your equals."

Joshua Geddes argued the point no farther, but sitting quietly down on the seat which Crackenthorpe indicated to him, and calling for a pint of ale, with some bread, butter, and Dutch cheese, began to satisfy the appetite which the morning air had rendered unusually alert.

While the honest Quaker was thus employed, another stranger entered the apartment, and sat down near to the table on which his victuals were placed. He looked repeatedly at Joshua, licked his parched and chopped lips as he saw the good Quaker masticate his bread and cheese, and sucked up his thin chops when Mr Geddes applied the tankard to his mouth, as if the dis

charge of these bodily functions by another had awakened his sympathies in an uncontrollable de gree. At last, being apparently unable to withstand his longings, he asked, in a faultering tone, the huge landlord, who was tramping through the room in all corpulent impatience, «< whether he could have a plack-pie? »

«Never heard of such a thing, master,” said the landlord, and was about to trudge onward; when the guest, detaining him, said, in a strong Scottish tone, «Ye will maybe have nae whey then, nor butter-milk, nor ye couldna exhibit a souter's clod? »

Can't tell what ye are talking about, master,” said Crackenthorpe.

Then ye will have no breakfast that will come within the compass of a shilling Scots ? » «Which is a penny sterling," answered Crackenthorpe, with a sneer. «Why no, Sawney, I can't say as we have we can't afford it; but you shall have a bellyful for love, as we say in the bull-ring."

«I shall never refnse a fair offer," said the poverty-stricken guest; and I will say that for the English, if they were de'ils, that they are a ceeveleesed people to gentlemen that are under a cloud."

«Gentlemen!

humph!" said Crackenthorpe

« not a blue-cap among them but halts upon that foot." Then seizing on a dish which still contained a huge cantle of what had been once a princely mutton pasty, he placed it on the table before the stranger, saying, There, master gentleman; there is what is worth all the black pies, as you call them, that were ever made of sheep's head."

«Sheep's head is a gude thing for a' that," replied the guest; but not being spoken so loud as to offend his hospitable entertainer, the interjection might pass for a private protest against the scandal thrown out against the standing dish of Caledonia.

This premised, he immediately began to trans fer the mutton and pie-crust from his plate to his lips, in such huge gobbets, as if he was refresh. ing after a three days' fast, and laying in provi. sions against a whole lent to come.

Joshua Geddes in his turn gazed on him with surprise, having never, he thought, beheld such a gaunt expression of hunger in the act of eating. «Friend," he said, after watching him for some minutes, «if thou gorgest thyself in this fashion, thou wilt assuredly choak. Wilt thou not take a draught out of my cup to help down all that dry meat? »