them until the hour of supper. Mac-Guffog attended upon this occasion. After giving him a glass of brandy, and sounding him with one or two cajoling speeches, Glossin made it his request that he would help him to an interview with Dirk Hatteraick, "Impossible! utterly impossible! it's contrary to the express orders of Mr. Mac-Morlan, and the captain (as the head jailor of a county jail is called in Scotland) would never forgive me."
"But why should he know of it?" said Glossin, slipping a couple of guineas into Mac-Guffog's hand.
The turnkey weighed the gold, and looked sharp at Glossin. "Eye, eye, Mr. Glossin, ye ken the ways o' this place—Lookye, at jock-up hour, I'll return and bring ye up stairs to him—But ye must stay a' night in his cell, for I must carry the keys to the captain for the night, and I cannot let you out again until morning—then I'll visit the wards half an hour earlier than usual, and ye may get out, and be
