inside passengers alighted and went into the inn, Hare was infatuated enough to follow their example. At first he sat down near the door, behind their backs, with his hat on, and his cloak closely muffled about him. But this backwardness was ascribed to his modesty, and one of the passengers, by way of encouraging him, asked if he was not perishing with cold. Hare replied in the affirmative, and then, moving forward, took off his hat, and commenced toasting his paws at the fire--a piece of indiscretion which can only be accounted for by his characteristic recklessness, not yet cured; and little, indeed, was he aware that Mr Sandford, advocate, one of the counsel employed against him in the prosecution at the instance of Daft Jamie's relations was then standing almost at his elbow. A single glance served all the purpose of the fullest recognition, and, as Hare naively enough remarked, "He shook his head at me," somewhat after the fashion, we suppose, of the ghost in Macbeth. On the horn being blown, he contrived, after the manner of the Greek slayer, who was always ahead of the three Furies, to be first at the coach door, and finding an empty seat inside, he actually occupied it. "Take that fellow out," cried the indignant counsel, and out accordingly he was taken, and transferred to the top, whereupon Mr Sandford, eager, perhaps, to justify what had the appearance of cruelty on so bitter a night, revealed to his fellow-travellers what, perhaps, he ought not to have done. A secret is like gas, it spreads without burning, and at Beattock, the guard as well as the driver, knew all. They were only obliged to conceal it because there was no one to tell it to; but on the arrival of the coach at Dumfries, the servants who attended to take the inside passengers' luggage, got the hint, and the news flew like a fire-flaught. Meanwhile, Hare had slunk into the coach-office of the King's Arms. People were seen hurrying thither from every direction, crying, "Hare's in the King's Arms!" By eight o'clock, a large crowd had collected, and by ten it was perfectly overwhelming. You might have walked over the heads of a mass of people in the High Street and Buccleuch Street, amounting to 8000, reminding us of a great fair, when the country empties itself into the town. Their object they did not tell, nor was it necessary, except in so far as having known that he was for Port-Patrick, they proposed to do the great man honour _in their own way_. If Hare had got among these people, he would assuredly have been sacrificed, for the dissatisfaction at his release was not confined to the metropolis. Meantime, the man, considering himself safe inside, and having from the first been surrounded by a knot of coachmen and guards, who handed him part of their ale, he clattered away, drinking absurd toasts, such as "Bad luck to bad fortune," and not denying his identity: "No use for that now;" but all questions about his