The monastery; The abbot.

INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE. 19
step to Captain Clutterbuck with my compliments, and say I am a stranger,
who have been led to these parts chiefly by the fame of these Ruins, and
that I would call upon him, but the hour is late.' And mair he said that I
have forgotten, but I weel remember it ended, —' And, landlord, get a
bottle of your best sherry, and supper for two.'-Ye wadna have had me
refuse to do the gentleman's bidding, and me a publican?"
" Well, David," said I, " I wish your virtuoso had taken a fitter hour
but as you say he is a gentleman ~"
" I'se uphaud him that- the order speaks for itsell - a bottle of sherry
minched collops and a fowl-that's speaking like a gentleman, I trow?That's right, Captain, button weel up, the night's raw-but the water's
clearing for a' that; we'll be on't neist night wi' my Lord's boats, and we'll
hae ill luck if I dinna send you a kipper to relish your ale at e'en."*
In five minutes after this dialogue, I found myself in the parlour of the
George, and in the presence of the stranger.
IIe was a grave personage, about my own age, (which we shall call about
fifty,) and really had, as my friend David expressed it, something in his
face that inclined men to oblige and to serve him. Yet this expression of
authority was not at all of the cast which I have seen in the countenance
of a general of brigade, neither was the stranger's dress at all martial. It
consisted of a uniform suit of iron-gray clothes, cut in rather an old-fashioned form. His legs were defended with strong leathern gambadoes, which,
according to an antiquarian contrivance, opened at the sides, and were
secured by steel clasps. His countenance was worn as much by toil and
sorrow as by age, for it intimated that he had seen and endured much. IHis
address was singularly pleasing and gentlemanlike, and the apology which
he made for disturbing me at such an hour, and in such a manner, was so
well and handsomely expressed, that I could not reply otherwise than by
declaring my willingness to be of service to him.
" I have been a traveller to-day, sir," said he, " and I would willingly
defer the little I have to say till after supper, for which I feel rather more
appetized than usual."
We sate down to table, and notwithstanding the stranger's alleged appetite, as well as the gentle preparation of cheese and ale which I had already
laid aboard, I really believe that I of the two did the greater honour to my.friend David's fowl and minced collops.
When the cloth was removed, and we had each made a tumbler of negus,
of that liquor which hosts call Sherry, and guests call Lisbon, I perceived
that the stranger seemed pensive, silent, and somewhat embarrassed, as if
he had something to communicate which he knew not well how to introduce.
To pave the way for him, I spoke of the ancient ruins of the Monastery,
and of their history. But, to my great surprise, I found I had met my
match with a witness. The stranger not only knew all that I could tell
him, but a great deal more; and, what was still more mortifying, he was
ble, by reference to dates, charters, and other evidence of facts, that, as
Burns says, " downa be disputed," to correct many of the vague tales which
I had adopted on loose and vulgar tradition, as well as to confute more than
one of my favourite theories on the subject of the old monks and their
dwellings, which I had sported freely in all the presumption of superior
information. And here I cannot but remark, that much of the stranger's
arguments and inductions rested upon the authority of Mr. Deputy Register of Scotland,t and his lucubrations; a gentleman whose indefatigable
research into the national records is like to destroy my trade, and that of
* The nobleman whose boats are mentioned in the text, is the late kind and amiable Lord Sommerville, an
intimate friend of the author. David Kyle was a constant and privileged attendant when Lord Sommlerville
had a party for spearing salmon; on such occasions, eighty or a hundred fish were often killed between
Glealner and Leaderfoot.
t Thomas Thomson, Esq., whose well-deserved panegyric ought to be found on another page than one
written by an intimate friend of thirty years' standing.