My first impulse was to refuse to stir, but happily my good sense returned in time and preserved me from playing the fool.
"I thank you, sir," I said gruffly--"and the lady.

Do I understand that I am free to go ?" "Through the door, down the left stairway, and you will be in the street," said the gentleman.
I made some sort of bow and moved to the door.
"Farewell, Mr.Whiggamore," the girl cried, "Keep a cheerful countenance, or they'll think you a Sweet-Singer.

Your breeches will mend, man." And with her laughter most unpleasantly in my ears I made my way into the Canongate, and so to my lodgings at Mrs.Macvittie's.
* * * * * Three weeks later I heard that Muckle John was destined for the Plantations in a ship of Mr.Barclay of Urie's, which traded to New Jersey.

I had a fancy to see him before he went, and after much trouble I was suffered to visit him.

His gaoler told me he had been mighty wild during his examination before the Council, and had had frequent bouts of madness since, but for the moment he was peaceable.