“Old Fraser of Lovat,” said I; “the prince of all conspirators and machinators; he made sure of placing the Pretender on the throne of these realms. ‘I can bring into the field so many men,’ said he; ‘my son-in-law, Cluny, so many, and likewise my cousin, and my good friend;’ then speaking of those on whom the Government reckoned for support, he would say: ‘So and so are lukewarm, this person is ruled by his wife, who is with us, the clergy are anything but hostile to us, and as for the soldiers and sailors, half are disaffected to King George, and the rest cowards’. Yet when things came to a trial, this person whom he had calculated upon to join the Pretender did not stir from his home, another joined the hostile ranks, the presumed cowards turned out heroes, and those whom he thought heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden; in a word, he found himself utterly mistaken, and in nothing more than in himself; he thought he was a hero, and proved himself nothing more than an old fox; he got up a hollow tree, didn’t he, just like a fox? _L’opere sue non furon leonine, ma di volpe_.” {24} The man in black sat silent for a considerable time, and at length answered in rather a faltering voice: “I was not prepared for this; you have frequently surprised me by your knowledge of things which I should never have expected any person of your appearance to be acquainted with, but that you should be aware of my name is a circumstance utterly incomprehensible to me. I had imagined that no person in England was acquainted with it; indeed, I don’t see how any person should be, I have revealed it to no one, not being particularly proud of it. Yes, I acknowledge that my name is Fraser, and that I am of the blood of that family or clan, of which the rector of our college once said, that he was firmly of opinion that every individual member was either rogue or fool. I was born at Madrid, of pure, _oimè_, Fraser blood. My parents, at an early age, took me to —, where they shortly died, not, however, before they had placed me in the service of a cardinal, with whom I continued some years, and who, when he had no further occasion for me, sent me to the college, in the left-hand cloister of which, as you enter, rest the bones of Sir John D—; there, in studying logic and humane letters, I lost whatever of humanity I had retained when discarded by the cardinal. Let me not, however, forget two points, I am a Fraser, it is true, but not a Flannagan; I may bear the vilest name of Britain, but not of Ireland; I was bred up at the English house, and there is at — a house for the education of bog-trotters; I was not bred up at that; beneath the lowest gulf, there is one yet lower; whatever my blood may be, it is at least not Irish; whatever my education may have been, I was not bred at the Irish seminary—on those accounts I am thankful—yes, _per Dio_! I am thankful. After some years at college—but why should I tell you my