The next morning at the Bailie's hospitable table, Frank Osbaldistone met Mr. Owen--but altogether another Owen from him of the tolbooth--neat, formal, and well brushed as ever, though still in the lowest of spirits about the misfortunes of the house. They had not long begun when Frank, who could be brusque enough upon occasion, startled the Bailie by the question, "And pray, by the bye, Mr. Nicol Jarvie, who is this Mr. Robert Campbell whom I met last night?" The question, abruptly put, seemed to knock the worthy Bailie all of a heap. He stammered and repeated it over and over, as if he had no answer ready. "Wha's Mr. Robert Campbell? Ahem--ahay--! Wha's Mr. Robert Campbell, quo' he?" "Yes," repeated the young Englishman, "I mean who and what is he?" "Why, he's--ahay! He's--ahem! Where did _you_ meet Mr. Robert Campbell, as you call him yourself?" "I met him by chance," Frank answered promptly, "some months ago, in the north of England." "Then, Mr. Osbaldistone," said the Bailie, doggedly, "ye ken just as much about him as I do!" "I should suppose not, Mr. Jarvie," said Frank, "since you are, it seems, both his relation and his friend!" "There is doubtless some cousinship between us," said the Bailie, with reluctance, "but I have seen little of Rob since he left the cattle-dealing. He was hardly used by those who might have treated him better, poor fellow." More than this for the moment Frank could not extract from Mr. Jarvie, and indeed his father's affairs were naturally the first consideration. As Frank could not help with their business matters and arrangements, the Bailie dismissed him without ceremony, telling him that he might go up to the College Yards, where he would find some that could speak Greek and Latin, but that he must be back at one o'clock "_preceesely_" to partake of the Bailie's family leg of mutton and additional tup's head. It was while Frank Osbaldistone was pacing to and fro in the College Yards, that, from behind a hedge, he saw three men talking together. At first he could hardly believe his eyes. For one of them, the very sight of whom caused a disagreeable thrill to pass through his body, was none other than Rashleigh himself, while the other two were Morris and Mr. MacVittie,--the very three men who could do him the most harm in the world. At the end of the avenue MacVittie and Morris left the gardens, while Rashleigh returned alone, apparently pacing the walk in deep meditation. Frank suddenly appeared before him, and challenged him to give up the deeds and titles he had stolen from his father. Rashleigh, whom no surprise could stir out of his cool native audacity, answered that it would be better for his cousin to go and amuse himself in his world of poetical imagination, and to leave the business of life to men who understood and could conduct it.