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"It was neither scarlet nor sky-blue, but my ain auld brown threshie-coat of a short-gown, and my mother's auld mutch, and my red rokelay and he gied me a croun and a kiss for the use o' them, blessing on his bonny face though it's been a dear ane to me." "And where did he change his clothes again, hinnie?" said Sharpitlaw, in his most conciliatory manner.
"It's a' very weel, sir, I thank ye," said the poor prisoner, in a tone how different from the sportive vivacity of those of the Lily of St. Leonard's! "it's a' very gude ower gude for me." "He must have been a great villain, Effie, who brought you to this pass," said Sharpitlaw.
He had no opportunity, however, of doing either; for he had no sooner surmounted the steep ascent, and entered under the broken arches of the rains, than a pistol was presented at his head, and a harsh voice commanded him, in the king's name, to surrender himself prisoner. "Mr. Sharpitlaw!" said Ratcliffe, surprised, "is this your honour?"
"I dinna ken, sir," was all the poor girl could utter; and, indeed, it is the phrase which rises most readily to the lips of any person in her rank, as the readiest reply to any embarrassing question. "But," said Sharpitlaw, "ye ken wha it was ye were speaking wi', my leddy, on the hill side, and midnight sae near; ye surely ken that, my bonny woman?"
"Are the folk civil to ye, Effie? it's my duty to inquire." "Very civil, sir," said Effie, compelling herself to answer, yet hardly knowing what she said. "And your victuals," continued Sharpitlaw, in the same condoling tone, "do you get what you like? or is there onything you would particularly fancy, as your health seems but silly?"
"Then, Rat, you and I will go with the party oursells this night, and see him in grips or we are done wi' him." "I seena muckle use I can be o' to your honour," said Ratcliffe, reluctantly. "Use?" answered Sharpitlaw "You can guide the party you ken the ground. Besides, I do not intend to quit sight o' you, my good friend, till I have him in hand."
"I doubt that will hardly do in this case, Mr. Sharpitlaw," returned the town-clerk; "they'll run their letters,* and be adrift again, before ye ken where ye are." * A Scottish form of procedure, answering, in some respects, to the English Habeas Corpus. "I will speak to the Lord Provost," said the magistrate, "about Ratcliffe's business. Mr.
"What's the meaning o' this, Ratcliffe?" said Sharpitlaw, while he fixed his eye on the recusant, with a fatal and ominous expression, "Have you forgotten that you are still under sentence of death?" "No, sir," said Ratcliffe, "that's a thing no easily put out o' memory; and if my presence be judged necessary, nae doubt I maun gang wi' your honour.
Ratcliffe saw this accession of strength with some disquietude, for he had hitherto thought it likely that Robertson, who was a bold, stout, and active young fellow, might have made his escape from Sharpitlaw and the single officer, by force or agility, without his being implicated in the matter.
There is another, called the Speech and dying words of John Dalgleish, lockman alias hangman of Edinburgh, containing these lines: "Ay; if I waited in the Tolbooth here to have him fit my cravat but that's an idle way o' speaking, Mr. Sharpitlaw." "Why, I suppose you know you are under sentence of death, Mr. Ratcliffe?" replied Mr. Sharpitlaw.
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