CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.
Fortune, you say, flies from us--She but circles, Like the fleet sea-bird round the fowler's skiff,-- Lost in the mist one moment, and the next Brushing the white sail with her whiter wing, As if to court the aim .-- Experience watches, And has her on the wheel-- Old Play.
The shout of triumph in Hector's warlike tones was not easily distinguished from that of battle.

But as he rushed up stairs with a packet in his hand, exclaiming, "Long life to an old soldier! here comes Edie with a whole budget of good news!" it became obvious that his present cause of clamour was of an agreeable nature.

He delivered the letter to Oldbuck, shook Sir Arthur heartily by the hand, and wished Miss Wardour joy, with all the frankness of Highland congratulation.

The messenger, who had a kind of instinctive terror for Captain M'Intyre, drew towards his prisoner, keeping an eye of caution on the soldier's motions.
"Don't suppose I shall trouble myself about you, you dirty fellow," said the soldier; "there's a guinea for the fright I have given you; and here comes an old forty-two man, who is a fitter match for you than I am." The messenger (one of those dogs who are not too scornful to eat dirty puddings) caught in his hand the guinea which Hector chucked at his face; and abode warily and carefully the turn which matters were now to take.

All voices meanwhile were loud in inquiries, which no one was in a hurry to answer.
"What is the matter, Captain M'Intyre ?" said Sir Arthur.
"Ask old Edie," said Hector;--"I only know all's safe and well." "What is all this, Edie ?" said Miss Wardour to the mendicant.
"Your leddyship maun ask Monkbarns, for he has gotten the yepistolary correspondensh." "God save the king!" exclaimed the Antiquary at the first glance at the contents of his packet, and, surprised at once out of decorum, philosophy, and phlegm, he skimmed his cocked hat in the air, from which it descended not again, being caught in its fall by a branch of the chandelier.