The Heart of Mid-Lothian

old Noll's evangelical army—that last fellow should understand his wheelings, to judge by his name.—But what does all this mean, my girl?'

'It was the other paper, sir,' said Jeanie, somewhat abashed at the mistake.

'O, this is my unfortunate grandfather's hand sure enough—'To all who may have friendship for the house of Argyle, these are to certify, that Benjamin Butler, of Monk's regiment of dragoons, having been, under God, the means of saving my life from four English troopers who were about, to slay me, I, having no other present means of recompense in my power, do give him this acknowledgment, hoping that it may be useful to him or his during these troublesome times; and do conjure my friends, tenants, kinsmen, and whoever will do aught for me, either in the Highlands or Lowlands, to protect and assist the said Benjamin Butler, and his friends or family, on their lawful occasions, giving them such countenance, maintenance, and supply, as may correspond with the benefit he hath bestowed on me; witness my hand—Lorne.'

'This is a strong injunction—This Benjamin Butler was your grandfather, I suppose?—You seem too young to have been his daughter.'

'He was nae akin to me, sir—he was grandfather to ane—to a neighbour's son—to a sincere weel-wisher of mine, sir,' dropping her little courtesy as she spoke.

'O, I understand,' said the Duke—'a true-love affair. He was the grandsire of one you are engaged to?'

'One I was engaged to, sir,' said Jeanie, sighing; 'but this unhappy business of my poor sister—'

'What!' said the Duke, hastily—'he has not deserted you on that account, has he?'

'No, sir; he wad be the last to leave a friend in difficulties,' said Jeanie; 'but I maun think for him as weel as for mysell. He is a clergyman, sir, and it would not beseem him to marry the like of me, wi' this disgrace on my kindred.'

'You are a singular young woman,' said the Duke. 'You seem to me to think of every one before yourself. And have you really come up from Edinburgh on foot, to attempt this hopeless solicitation for your sister's life?'

'It was not a'thegither on foot, sir,' answered Jeanie; 'for I sometimes got a cast in a waggon, and I had a horse from Ferrybridge, and then the coach'

'Well, never mind all that,' interrupted the Duke—'What reason have you for thinking your sister innocent?'

'Because she has not been proved guilty, as will appear from looking at these papers.'

She put into his hand a note of the evidence, and copies of her sister's declaration. These papers Butler had procured after her departure, and Saddletree had them forwarded to London, to Mrs. Glass's care, so that Jeanie found the documents, so necessary for supporting her suit, lying in readiness at her arrival.

'Sit down in that chair, my good girl,' said the Duke,—'until I glance over the papers.'

She obeyed, and watched with the utmost anxiety each change in his countenance as he cast his eye through the papers briefly, yet with attention, and making memoranda as he went along. After reading them hastily over, he looked up, and seemed about to speak, yet changed his purpose, as if afraid of committing himself by giving too hasty an opinion, and read over again several passages which he had marked as being most important. All this he did in shorter time than can be supposed by men of ordinary talents; for his mind was of that acute and penetrating character which discovers, with the glance of intuition, what facts bear on the particular point that chances to be subjected to consideration. At length he rose, after a few minutes' deep reflection.— 'Young woman,' said he, 'your sister's case must certainly be termed a hard one.'

'God bless you, sir, for that very word!' said Jeanie.

'It seems contrary to the genius of British law,' continued the Duke, 'to take that for granted which is not proved, or to punish with death for a crime, which, for aught the prosecutor has been able to show, may not have been committed at all.'

'God bless you, sir!' again said Jeanie, who had risen from her seat, and, with clasped hands, eyes glittering through tears, and features which trembled with anxiety, drank in every word which the Duke uttered.

'But, alas! my poor girl,' he continued, 'what good will my opinion do you, unless I could impress it upon those in whose hands your sister's life is placed by the law? Besides, I am no lawyer; and I must speak with some of our Scottish gentlemen of the gown about the matter.'

'O, but, sir, what seems reasonable to your honour, will certainly be the same to them,' answered Jeanie.

'I do not know that,' replied the Duke; 'ilka man buckles his belt his ain gate—you know our old Scots proverb?—But you shall not have placed this reliance on me altogether in vain. Leave these papers with me, and you shall hear from me to-morrow or next day. Take care to be at home at Mrs. Glass's, and ready to come to me at a moment's warning. It will be unnecessary for you to give Mrs. Glass the trouble to attend you;—and by the by, you will please to be dressed just as you are at present.'

'I wad hae putten on a cap, sir,' said Jeanie, 'but your honour kens it isna the fashion of my country for single women; and I judged that, being sae mony hundred miles frae hame, your Grace's heart wad warm to the tartan,' looking at the corner of her plaid.

'You judged quite right,' said the Duke. 'I know the full value of the snood; and MacCallummore's heart will be as cold as death can make it, when it does not warm to the tartan. Now, go away, and don't be out of the way when I send.'

Jeanie replied,—'There is little fear of that, sir, for I have little heart to go to see sights amang this wilderness of black houses. But if I might say to your gracious honour, that if ye ever condescend to speak to ony ane that is of greater degree than yoursell, though maybe it isna civil in me to say sae, just if you would think there can be nae sic odds between you and them, as between poor Jeanie Deans from St. Leonard's and the Duke of Argyle; and so dinna be chappit back or cast down wi' the first rough answer.'

'I am not apt,' said the Duke, laughing, 'to mind rough answers much—Do not you hope too much from what I have promised. I will do my best, but God has the hearts of Kings in his own hand.'

Jeanie courtesied reverently and withdrew, attended by the Duke's gentleman, to her hackney-coach, with a respect which her appearance did not demand, but which was perhaps paid to the length of the interview with which his master had honoured her.

CHAPTER TWELFTH.

Ascend
While radiant summer opens all its pride,
Thy hill, delightful Shene! Here let us sweep
The boundless landscape.

Thomson.

From her kind and officious, but somewhat gossiping friend, Mrs. Glass, Jeanie underwent a very close catechism on their road to the Strand, where the Thistle of the good lady flourished in full glory, and, with its legend of Nemo me impune, distinguished a shop then well known to all Scottish folk of high and low degree.

'And were you sure aye to say your Grace to him?' said the good old lady; 'for ane should make a distinction between MacCallummore and the bits o' southern bodies that they ca' lords here— there are as mony o' them, Jeanie, as would gar ane think they maun cost but little fash in the making—some of