The Bailie started from his three-footed stool like the Pythoness from her tripod; flung his best wig out of the window, because the block on which it was placed stood in the way of his career; chucked his cap to the ceiling, caught it as it fell; whistled Tullochgorum; danced a Highland fling with inimitable grace and agility; and then threw himself exhausted into a chair, exclaiming, 'Lady Wauverley!--ten thousand a year, the least penny!--Lord preserve my poor understanding!' 'Amen, with all my heart,' said Waverley;--'but now, Mr.Macwheeble, let us proceed to business.' This word had a somewhat sedative effect, but the Bailie's head, as he expressed himself, was still 'in the bees.' He mended his pen, however, marked half a dozen sheets of paper with an ample marginal fold, whipped down Dallas of St.Martin's STYLES from a shelf, where that venerable work roosted with Stair's INSTITUTIONS, Dirleton's DOUBTS, Balfour's PRACTIQUES, and a parcel of old account-books-opened the volume at the article Contract of Marriage, and prepared to make what he called a 'sma' minute, to prevent parties frae resiling.
With some difficulty, Waverley made him comprehend that he was going a little too fast.

He explained to him that he should want his assistance, in the first place, to make his residence safe for the time, by writing to the officer at Tully-Veolan, that Mr.Stanley, an English gentleman, nearly related to Colonel Talbot, was upon a visit of business at Mr.Macwheeble's, and, knowing the state of the country, had sent his passport for Captain Foster's inspection.

This produced a polite answer from the officer, with an invitation to Mr.Stanley to dine with him, which was declined (as may easily be supposed), under pretence of business.
Waverley's next request was, that Mr.Macwheeble would dispatch a man and horse to -- , the post-town, at which Colonel Talbot was to address him, with directions to wait there until the post should bring a letter for Mr.Stanley, and then to forward it to Little Veolan with all speed.
In a moment, the Bailie was in search of his apprentice (or servitor, as he was called Sixty Years since), Jock Scriever, and in not much greater space of time, Jock was on the back of the white pony.
'Tak care ye guide him weel, sir, for he's aye been short in the wind since--ahem--lord be gude to me!' (in a low voice) 'I was gaun to come out wi'-- since I rode whip and spur to fetch the Chevalier to redd Mr.Wauverley and Vich Ian Vohr; and an uncanny coup I gat for my pains .-- Lord forgie your honour! I might hae broken my neck--but troth it was in a venture, mae ways nor ane; but this maks amends for a'.

Lady Wauverley!--ten thousand a year!--Lord be gude unto me!' 'But you forget, Mr.Macwheeble, we want the Baron's consent--the lady's--' 'Never fear, I'se be caution for them--I'se gie you my personal warrandice--ten thousand a year! it dings Balmawhapple out and out--a year's rent's worth a' Balmawhapple, fee and life-rent! Lord make us thankful!' To turn the current of his feelings, Edward inquired if he had heard anything lately of the Chieftain of Glennaquoich?
'Not one word,' answered Macwheeble, 'but that he was still in Carlisle Castle, and was soon to be panelled for his life.

I dinna wish the young gentleman ill,' he said, 'but I hope that they that hae got him will keep him, and no let him back to this Hieland border to plague us wi' blackmail, and a' manner o' violent, wrongous, and masterfu' oppression and spoliation, both by himself and others of his causing, sending, and hounding out:--and he couldna tak care o' the siller when he had gotten it neither, but flung it a' into yon idle quean's lap at Edinburgh--but light come light gane.