The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

400 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
nae fear o' him; naebody will live the life he has led, but what he'll come to
sooner or later."
"Who or what is he, Ratcliffe? you know, I suppose?" said Sharpitlaw.
"He's better born, I judge, than he cares to let on; he's been a soldier,
and he has been a play-actor, and I watna what he has been or hasna been,
for as young as he is, sae that it had dafling and nonsense about it."
"Pretty pranks he has played in his time, I suppose?"
" Ye may say that," said Ratcliffe, with a sardonic smile; " and," (touching his nose,) " a deevil amang the lasses."
"Like enough," said Sharpitlaw. "Weel, Ratcliffe, I'll no stand- niffering wi' ye; ye ken the way that favour's gotten in my office; ye maun be
usefu'."
" Certainly, sir, to the best of my power - naething for naething - I ken
the rule of the office," said the ex-depredator.
"Now the principal thing in hand e'en now," said the official person,
" is the job of Porteous's; an ye can gie us a lift - why, the inner turnkey's office to begin wi', and the captainship in time -ye understand my
meaning?"
"Ay, troth do I, sir; a wink's as gude as a nod to a blind horse; but
Jock Porteous's job - Lord help ye! —-I was under sentence the haill time.
God! but I couldna help laughing when I heard Jock skirling for mercy in
the lads' hands! Mony a het skin ye hae gien me, neighbour, thought I,
tak ye what's gaun: time about's fair play; ye'll ken now what hanging's
gude for."
"Come, come, this is all nonsense, Rat," said the procurator. "Ye canna
creep out at that hole, lad; you must speak to the point - you understand
me-if you want favour; gif-gaf makes gude friends, ye ken."
"But how can I speak to the point, as your honour ca's it," said Ratcliffe, demurely, and with an air of great simplicity, "when ye ken I was
under sentence, and in the strong room a' the while the job was going
on?"
"And how can we turn ye loose on the public again, Daddie Rat, unless
ye do or say something to deserve it?"
" Well, then, d-n it!" answered the criminal, "since it maun be sace, I
saw Geordie Robertson among the boys that brake the jail; I suppose that
will do me some gude?"
"That's speaking to the purpose, indeed," said the office-bearer; "and
now, Rat, where think ye we'll find him?"
" Deil haet o' me kens," said Ratcliffe; "he'll no likely gang back to
ony o' his auld howffs; he'll be off the country by this time. He has
gude friends some gate or other, for a' the life he's led; he's been weel
educate."
" He'll grace the gallows the better,' said Mr. Sharpitlaw; "a desperate
dog, to murder an officer of the city for doing his duty! Wha kens wha's
turn it might be next?-But you saw him plainly?"
"As plainly as I see you."
" How was he dressed?" said Sharpitlaw.
" I couldna weel see; something of a woman's bit mutch on his head; but
ye never saw sic a ca'-throw. Ane couldna hae een to a' thing."
" But did he speak to no one?" said Sharpitlaw.
"They were a' speaking and gabbling through other," said Ratcliffe,
who was- obviously unwilling to carry his evidence farther than he could
possibly help.
" This will not do, Ratcliffe," said the procurator; " you must speak outout — out," tapping the table emphatically, as he repeated that impressive
monosyllable.
"It's very hard, sir," said the prisoner; "and but for the under-turnkey's
place "