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.

THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN. 401
"And the reversion of the captaincy-the captaincy of the Tolbooth, man
- -that is, in case of gude behaviour."
"Ay, ay," said Ratcliffe, "gude behaviour! there's the deevil. And.
then it's waiting for dead folk's shoon into the bargain."
"But Robertson's head will weigh something," said Sharpitlaw; "something gay and heavy, Rat; the town maun show cause — that's right and
reason-and then ye'll hae freedom to enjoy your gear honestly."
"I dinna ken," said Ratcliffe; "it's a queer way of beginning the trade
of honesty- but deil ma care. Weel, then, I heard and saw him speak to
the wench Effie Deans, that's up there for child-murder."
"The deil ye did? Rat, this is finding a mare's nest wi' a witness.-And
the man that spoke to Butler in the Park, and that was to meet wi' Jeanie
Deans at Muschat's Cairn-whew! lay that and that together? As sure as
I live he's been the father of the lassie's wean."
"There hae been waur guesses than that, I'm thinking," observed Ratcliffe, turning his quid of tobacco in his cheek, and squirting out the juice.
"I heard something a while syne about his drawing up wi' a bonny quean
about the Pleasaunts, and that it was a' Wilson could do to keep him frae
marrying her."
Here a city officer entered, and told Sharpitlaw that they had the woman
in custody whom he had directed them to bring before him.
L" It's little matter now," said he, " the thing is taking another turn"; however, George, ye may bring her in."
The officer retired, and introduced, upon his return, a tall, strapping
wench of eighteen or twenty, dressed fantastically, in a sort of blue ridingjacket, with tarnished lace, her hair clubbed like that of a man, a Highland
bonnet, and a bunch of broken feathers, a riding-skirt (or petticoat) of
scarlet camlet, embroidered with tarnished flowers. Her features were
coarse and masculine, yet at a little distance, by dint of very bright wildlooking black eyes, an aquiline nose, and a commanding profile, appeared
rather handsome. She flourished the switch she held in her hand, dropped
a curtsey as low as a lady at a birth-night introduction, recovered herself
seemingly according to Touchstone's directions to Audrey, and opened the
conversation without waiting till any questions were asked.
" God gie your honour gude-e'en, and mony o' them, bonny Mr. Sharpitlaw! - Gude-e'en to ye, Daddie Ratton- they tauld me ye were hanged,
man; or did ye get out o' John Dalgleish's hands like half-hangit Maggie
Dickson?"
"Whisht, ye daft jaud," said Ratcliffe, " and hear what's said to ye."
"Wi' all my heart, Ratton. Great preferment for poor Madge to be
brought up the'street wi' a grand man, wi' a coat a' passemented wi' worsetlace, to speak wi' provosts, and bailies, and town-clerks, and prokitors, at
this time o' day-and the haill town looking at me too-This is honour on
earth for anes!"
"Ay, Madge," said Mr. Sharpitlaw, in a coaxing tone; "and ye're
dressed out in your braws, I see; these are not your every-day's claiths ye
have on."
"Deil be in my fingers, then!" said Madge — "Eh, sirs!" (observing
Butler come into the apartment,) "there's a minister in the Tolbooth-wha
will ca' it a graceless place now?-I'se warrant he's in for the gude auld
cause-but it's be nae cause o' mine," and off she went into a song.
"Hey for cavaliers, ho for cavaliers,
Dub a dub, dub a dub,
Have at old Beelzebub,Oliver's squeaking for fear."
"Did you ever see that mad woman before?" said Sharpitlaw to Butler.
"Not to my knowledge, sir," replied Butler.'"I thought as much," said the procurator-fiscal, looking towards R;atVOL. III. - 26 2 I 2