“Aweel,” said Caleb, “these will serve for you another time; but see ye hae eneugh, for, doubtless, for the credit of the family, there maun be some civility to the servants, and ye maun hae something to mak a show with when they say, ‘Master, will you bet a broad piece?’ Then ye maun tak out your purse, and say, ‘I carena if I do’; and tak care no to agree on the articles of the wager, and just put up your purse again, and——” “This is intolerable, Caleb; I really must be gone.” “And you will go, then?” said Caleb, loosening his hold upon the Master’s cloak, and changing his didactics into a pathetic and mournful tone—“and you _will_ go, for a’ I have told you about the prophecy, and the dead bride, and the Kelpie’s quicksand? Aweel! a wilful man maun hae his way: he that will to Cupar maun to Cupar. But pity of your life, sir, if ye be fowling or shooting in the Park, beware of drinking at the Mermaiden’s Well—He’s gane! he’s down the path arrow-flight after her! The head is as clean taen aff the Ravenswood family this day as I wad chap the head aff a sybo!” The old butler looked long after his master, often clearing away the dew as it rose to his eyes, that he might, as long as possible, distinguish his stately form from those of the other horsemen. “Close to her bridle-rein—ay, close to her bridle-rein! Wisely saith the holy man, ‘By this also you may know that woman hath dominion over all men’; and without this lass would not our ruin have been a’thegither fulfilled.” With a heart fraught with such sad auguries did Caleb return to his necessary duties at Wolf’s Crag, as soon as he could no longer distinguish the object of his anxiety among the group of riders, which diminished in the distance. In the mean time the party pursued their route joyfully. Having once taken his resolution, the Master of Ravenswood was not of a character to hesitate or pause upon it. He abandoned himself to the pleasure he felt in Miss Ashton’s company, and displayed an assiduous gallantry which approached as nearly to gaiety as the temper of his mind and state of his family permitted. The Lord Keeper was much struck with his depth of observation, and the unusual improvement which he had derived from his studies. Of these accomplishments Sir William Ashton’s profession and habits of society rendered him an excellent judge; and he well knew how to appreciate a quality to which he himself was a total stranger—the brief and decided dauntlessness of the Master of Ravenswood’s fear. In his heart the Lord Keeper rejoiced at having conciliated an adversary so formidable, while, with a mixture of pleasure and anxiety, he anticipated the great things his young companion might achieve, were the breath of court-favour to fill his sails.