Chapter 21

Let those go see who will--I like it not--
For, say he was a slave to rank and pomp,
And all the nothings he is now divorced from
By the hard doom of stern necessity:
Yet it is sad to mark his altered brow,
Where Vanity adjusts her flimsy veil
O'er the deep wrinkles of repentant anguish.
Old Play.


When Miss Wardour arrived in the court of the Castle, she was apprized by
the first glance that the visit of the officers of the law had already
taken place. There was confusion, and gloom and sorrow, and curiosity
among the domestics, while the retainers of the law went from place to
place, making an inventory of the goods and chattels falling under their
warrant of distress, or poinding, as it is called in the law of Scotland.
Captain M'Intyre flew to her, as, struck dumb with the melancholy
conviction of her father's ruin, she paused upon the threshold of the
gateway.

"Dear Miss Wardour," he said, "do not make yourself uneasy; my uncle is
coming immediately, and I am sure he will find some way to clear the
house of these rascals."

"Alas! Captain M'Intyre, I fear it will be too late."

"No," answered Edie, impatiently--"could I but get to Tannonburgh. In the
name of Heaven, Captain, contrive some way to get me on, and ye'll do
this poor ruined family the best day's doing that has been done them
since Redhand's days--for as sure as e'er an auld saw came true,
Knockwinnock house and land will be lost and won this day."

"Why, what good can you do, old man?" said Hector.

But Robert, the domestic with whom Sir Arthur had been so much displeased
in the morning, as if he had been watching for an opportunity to display
his zeal, stepped hastily forward and said to his mistress, "If you
please, ma'am, this auld man, Ochiltree, is very skeely and auld-farrant
about mony things, as the diseases of cows and horse, and sic like, and I
am sure be disna want to be at Tannonburgh the day for naething, since he
insists on't this gate; and, if your leddyship pleases, I'll drive him
there in the taxed-cart in an hour's time. I wad fain be of some use--I
could bite my very tongue out when I think on this morning."

"I am obliged to you, Robert," said Miss Wardour; "and if you really
think it has the least chance of being useful"---

"In the name of God," said the old man, "yoke the cart, Robie, and if I
am no o' some use, less or mair, I'll gie ye leave to fling me ower
Kittlebrig as ye come back again. But, O man, haste ye, for time's
precious this day."

Robert looked at his mistress as she retired into the house, and seeing
he was not prohibited,