“You may now guess,” said Oldbuck, turning to Sir Arthur, “to whose good offices you were indebted the other night. To trace this cornucopia of yours to a miner, is bringing it pretty near a friend of ours--I hope we shall be as successful this morning, without paying for it.” “And whare is your honours gaun the day,” said the mendicant, “wi’ a’ your picks and shules?--Od, this will be some o’ your tricks, Monkbarns: ye’ll be for whirling some o’ the auld monks down by yonder out o’ their graves afore they hear the last call--but, wi’ your leave, I’se follow ye at ony rate, and see what ye mak o’t.” The party soon arrived at the ruins of the priory, and, having gained the chancel, stood still to consider what course they were to pursue next. The Antiquary, meantime, addressed the adept. “Pray, Mr. Dousterswivel, what is your advice in this matter? Shall we have most likelihood of success if we dig from east to west, or from west to east?--or will you assist us with your triangular vial of May-dew, or with your divining-rod of witches-hazel?--or will you have the goodness to supply us with a few thumping blustering terms of art, which, if they fail in our present service, may at least be useful to those who have not the happiness to be bachelors, to still their brawling children withal?” “Mr. Oldenbuck,” said Dousterswivel, doggedly, “I have told you already that you will make no good work at all, and I will find some way of mine own to thank you for your civilities to me--yes, indeed.” “If your honours are thinking of tirling the floor,” said old Edie, “and wad but take a puir body’s advice, I would begin below that muckle stane that has the man there streekit out upon his back in the midst o’t.” “I have some reason for thinking favourably of that plan myself,” said the Baronet. “And I have nothing to say against it,” said Oldbuck: “it was not unusual to hide treasure in the tombs of the deceased--many instances might be quoted of that from Bartholinus and others.” The tombstone, the same beneath which the coins had been found by Sir Arthur and the German, was once more forced aside, and the earth gave easy way to the spade. “It’s travell’d earth that,” said Edie, “it howks gae eithly--I ken it weel, for ance I wrought a simmer wi’ auld Will Winnet, the bedral, and howkit mair graves than ane in my day; but I left him in winter, for it was unco cald wark; and then it cam a green Yule, and the folk died thick and fast--for ye ken a green Yule makes a fat kirkyard; and I never dowed to bide a hard turn o’ wark in my life--sae aff I gaed, and left Will to delve his last dwellings by himsell for Edie.” The diggers were now so far advanced in their labours as to discover that the sides of the grave which they were clearing out had been originally secured by four walls of freestone, forming a parallelogram, for the reception, probably, of the coffin.