“Thou art deceived, friend Jonathan,” said Campbell, interrupting him; “they were but barely two, and two cowardly loons as man could wish to meet withal.” “And did you, sir, really,” said my fellow-traveller, edging his chair (I should have said his portmanteau) nearer to Mr. Campbell, “really and actually beat two highwaymen yourself alone?” “In troth did I, sir,” replied Campbell; “and I think it nae great thing to make a sang about.” “Upon my word, sir,” replied my acquaintance, “I should be happy to have the pleasure of your company on my journey--I go northward, sir.” This piece of gratuitous information concerning the route he proposed to himself, the first I had heard my companion bestow upon any one, failed to excite the corresponding confidence of the Scotchman. “We can scarce travel together,” he replied, drily. “You, sir, doubtless, are well mounted, and I for the present travel on foot, or on a Highland shelty, that does not help me much faster forward.” So saying, he called for a reckoning for the wine, and throwing down the price of the additional bottle which he had himself introduced, rose as if to take leave of us. My companion made up to him, and taking him by the button, drew him aside into one of the windows. I could not help overhearing him pressing something--I supposed his company upon the journey, which Mr. Campbell seemed to decline. “I will pay your charges, sir,” said the traveller, in a tone as if he thought the argument should bear down all opposition. “It is quite impossible,” said Campbell, somewhat contemptuously; “I have business at Rothbury.” “But I am in no great hurry; I can ride out of the way, and never miss a day or so for good company.” “Upon my faith, sir,” said Campbell, “I cannot render you the service you seem to desiderate. I am,” he added, drawing himself up haughtily, “travelling on my own private affairs, and if ye will act by my advisement, sir, ye will neither unite yourself with an absolute stranger on the road, nor communicate your line of journey to those who are asking ye no questions about it.” He then extricated his button, not very ceremoniously, from the hold which detained him, and coming up to me as the company were dispersing, observed, “Your friend, sir, is too communicative, considering the nature of his trust.” “That gentleman,” I replied, looking towards the traveller, “is no friend of mine, but an acquaintance whom I picked up on the road. I know neither his name nor business, and you seem to be deeper in his confidence than I am.” “I only meant,” he replied hastily, “that he seems a thought rash in conferring the honour of his company on those who desire it not.” “The gentleman,” replied I, “knows his own affairs best, and I should be sorry to constitute myself a judge of them in any respect.” Mr. Campbell made no farther observation, but merely wished me a good journey, and the party dispersed for the evening.