Transcriber’s note Variable spelling and hyphenation have been retained. Minor punctuation inconsistencies have been silently repaired. A list of the changes made can be found at the end of the book. Formatting and special characters are indicated as follows: _italic_ HARRY MUIR. A STORY OF SCOTTISH LIFE. BY THE AUTHOR OF “PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF MRS. MARGARET MAITLAND,” “MERKLAND,” “ADAM GRAEME,” &C. “God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, At thy affections.... The hope and expectation of thy time Is ruined; and the soul of every man, Prophetically, does forethink thy fall.” KING HENRY IV. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1853. LONDON: Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street. HARRY MUIR. CHAPTER I. “Housekeeping youth have ever homely wits.” TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. “AND this is the pillar that Rob Roy hid behind, the Sabbath day that he warned the young English gentleman in the kirk. It’s the very place itsel. Here was the pulpit--and the seats were a’ here, and this is the pillar that hid Rob Roy.” A party of young men were in the crypt of Glasgow cathedral--the little sleek, humble-looking man, who very unobtrusively acted as Cicerone, was pointing out to them the notability, with these words. One of the visitors turned away with a grave smile, and leaving his companions, began to wander slowly down one of the long black aisles. The dim withdrawing vistas--the pillars with their floral chaplets--the singular grace and majesty of those dark and ponderous arches--impressed him with very different associations. The young man’s smile, slightly scornful at first, melted as he reached the lower end, and looking up through this grand avenue, saw the little knot of dim figures in the distance. He was glad to escape from their laughter, and unsuitable merriment. These noble old cloisters were too grave and solemn, to have their stillness so invaded. But he was not suffered long to remain uninterrupted in his contemplative mood. “What ails Cuthbert?” said one of the younger of the party, a lad in the transition state between boy and man. “See to him down yonder at the very end, like a craw in the mist--I say, Cuthbert!” As the piping shrill voice called out his name at its highest pitch, the young man began slowly to advance again. The lad came forward to meet him. “What are you smiling at--what did you go away for?”