I was startled a little by this letter at first, but in half an hour I relapsed into my apathy. Many gentlemen in the country had received anonymous letters: I had been tired of hearing of them during the rebellion. This, I thought, might be only a _quiz_, or a trick to hurry me out of the kingdom, contrived by some of those who desired my absence. In short, the labour of _thinking_ about the matter fatigued me. I burned the letter as soon as I got home, and resolved not to puzzle or plague myself about it any more. My steward’s answer came the next morning from England; Kelly made no difficulty, when I ordered him to be ready to set out in three days. This confirmed me in my opinion that the letter was malicious, or a jest. Mr. M’Leod came to take leave of me. I mentioned the circumstance to him slightly, and in general terms: he looked very serious, and said, “All these things are little in themselves, but are to be heeded, as marking the unsettled minds of the people--straws that show which way the wind blows. I apprehend we shall have a rough winter again, though we have had so still a summer. The people about us are too _hush_ and too prudent--it is not their natures--there’s something contriving among them: they don’t break one another’s heads at fairs as they used to do; they keep from whiskey; there must be some strong motive working this change upon them--good or bad, ‘tis hard to say which. My lord, if we consider the condition of these poor people, and if we consider the causes--” “Oh! for Heaven’s sake, do not let us consider any more about it now; I am more than half asleep already,” said I, yawning; “and our considering about it can do no good, to _me_ at least; for you know I am going out of the kingdom; and when I am gone, M’Leod, you, in whom I have implicit confidence, must manage as you always used to do, you know, and as well as you can.” “True,” said M’Leod, calmly, “that is what I shall do, indubitably; for that is my duty, and since your lordship has implicit confidence in me, my pleasure. I wish your lordship a good night and a good journey.” “I shall not set out in the morning; not till the day after to-morrow, I believe,” said I; “for I feel consumedly tired to-night: they have plagued me about so many things to-day; so much business always before one can get away from a place; and then Joe Kelly has no head.” “Have a care he has not too much head, my lord, as your anonymous correspondent hints--he may be right there: I told you from the first I would not go security for Joe Kelly’s honesty; and where there is not strict honesty, I conceive there ought not to be implicit confidence.”