ing to Miss Bertram, "Look at that man, Lucy, my dear; have you never seen any one like him?"
Lucy had only ventured one glance at this object of terror, which, from his remarkable height and appearance, at once recognised the supposed assassin of young Hazlewood, and excluded, of course, the more favourable association of ideas which might have occurred on a closer view. "Don't ask me about him, sir; send him away, for heaven's sake! we shall be all murdered!"
"Murdered! where's the poker?"—said the advocate in some alarm; "but nonsense, we are three men besides the servants, and there is honest Liddesdale worth halt-a-dozen to boot—we have the major vis upon our side—however, here, my friend Dandie—Davie—what do they call you?—keep between that fellow and us for the protection of the ladies."
"Lord! Mr. Pleydell, that's Captain Brown; d'ye no ken the Captain?"
