"This is all very well," said Glossin, beginning to fear lest the firm expostulation of Bertram should make some impression on Sir Robert, who would almost have died of shame at committing such a solecism as sending a captain of horse to jail--"This is all very well, sir; but is there no person nearer whom you could refer to?" "There are only two persons in this country who know anything of me," replied the prisoner. "One is a plain Liddesdale sheep-farmer, called Dinmont of Charlies-hope; but he knows nothing more of me than what I told him, and what I now tell you." "Why, this is well enough, Sir Robert!" said Glossin, "I suppose he would bring forward this thick-skulled fellow to give his oath of credulity, Sir Robert, ha, ha, ha!" "And what is your other witness, friend?" said the Baronet. "A gentleman whom I have some reluctance to mention, because of certain private reasons; but under whose command I served some time in India, and who is too much a man of honour to refuse his testimony to my character as a soldier and gentleman." "And who is this doughty witness, pray, sir?" said Sir Robert,--"some half-pay quarter-master or sergeant, I suppose?" "Colonel Guy Mannering, late of tile--regiment, in which, as I told you, I have a troop." "Colonel Guy Mannering!" thought Glossin,--"who the devil could have guessed this?" "Colonel Guy Mannering!" echoed the Baronet, considerably shaken in his opinion,--"My good sir,"--apart to Glossin, "the young man with a dreadfully plebeian name, and a good deal of modest assurance, has nevertheless something of the tone, and manners, and feeling of a gentleman, of one at least who has lived in good society--they do give commissions very loosely, and carelessly, and inaccurately, in India--I think we had better pause till Colonel Mannering shall return; he is now, I believe, at Edinburgh."