Bertram's curiosity was in some degree put to rest by the appearance of the supper which his friend had ordered, which, although homely enough, had the appetising cleanliness in which Mrs. Mac-Guffog's cookery was so eminently deficient. Dinmont also, premising he had ridden the whole day since breakfast-time, without tasting anything "to speak of," which qualifying phrase related to about three pounds of cold roast mutton which he had discussed at his midday stage,--Dinmont, I say, fell stoutly upon the good cheer, and, like one of Homer's heroes, said little, either good or bad, till the rage of thirst and hunger was appeased. At length, after a draught of home-brewed ale, he began by observing, "Aweel, aweel, that hen," looking upon the lamentable relics of what had been once a large fowl, "wasna a bad ane to be bred at a town end, though it's no like our barn-door chuckles at Charlies-hope--and I am glad to see that this vexing job hasna taen awa your appetite, Captain." "Why, really, my dinner was not so excellent, Mr. Dinmont, as to spoil my supper." "I dare say no, I dare say no," said Dandie:--"But now, hinny, that ye hae brought us the brandy, and the mug wi' the het water, and the sugar, and a' right, ye may steak [*Fasten] the door, ye see, for we wad hae some o' our ain cracks." [*Conversation] The damsel accordingly retired, and shut the door of the apartment, to which she added the precaution of drawing a large bolt on the outside. As soon as she was gone, Dandie reconnoitred the premises, listened at the keyhole as if he had been listening for the blowing of an otter, and having satisfied himself that there were no eavesdroppers, returned to the table; and making himself what he called a gey stiff cheerer, poked the fire, and began his story in an undertone of gravity and importance not very usual with him. "Ye see, Captain, I had been in Edinbro' for twa or three days, looking after the burial of a friend that we hae lost, and maybe I suld hae had something for my ride; but there's disappointments in a' things, and wha can help the like o' that? And I had a wee bit law business besides, but that's neither here nor there. In short, I had got my matters settled, and hame I cam; and the morn awa to the muirs to see what the herds had been about, and I thought I might as weel gie a look to the Tout-hope head, where Jock o' Dawston and me has the outcast about a march.--Weel, just as I was coming upon the bit I saw a man afore me that I kenn'd was nane o' our herds, and it's a wild bit to meet ony other body, so when I cam up to him, it was Tod Gabriel the fox-hunter. So I says to him, rather surprised like, 'What are ye doing up amang the craws here, without your hounds, man? are ye seeking the fox without the dogs?' So he said, 'Na, gudeman, but I wanted to see yourself.' "'Ay,' said I, 'and ye'll be wanting eilding now, or something to pit ower the winter?'