me, and makes awfu’ threats to distrain and turn me out of my sma’ holding if I dinna pay; and pay I canna’, that is truth, my leddie. Have mercy, have pity, my leddie. Ye love justice whatever else ye love.”

“Justice might induce me to expel you from your holding, if you cannot pay your rent, old man,” said Miss Wardhill, in a cold severe tone. “However I will listen to what Sandy Redland, the factor, has to say. Ha! here he comes. You are late Mr Redland, in your attendance. What has kept you?”

The man who entered was a tall, thin person, habited in the grey shepherd’s plaid of the north. His features were coarse. He possessed a sharp nose, high cheek bones, and small and grey unpleasantly twinkling eyes. He bowed low, and in a voice which was intended to be soft and insinuating, replied—

“It is no fault o’ mine when your orders are na implicitly obeyed, Miss Wardhill; but circumstances militate against the best intentions, as may be clear to you oftentimes, I doubt not. I was delayed by having to make inquiries respecting a strange ship, which anchored, it appears, a few hours back, in the Sound of Eastling, and which, as I opine, is within your leddyship’s jurisdiction, I deemed it incumbent on me to ascertain the object of her coming, and the time it might be proposed for her to stay. As she is a foreigner, it struck me that charge might be made for harbour and light dues, and the chances are that it would not be disputed. Ye see, Miss Wardhill, that I have always your honoured father’s interests at heart.”

The lady gave a glance towards the factor, which bespoke the most perfect contempt—too cold and confirmed to cause much change in her features.

“And what have you learned respecting this stranger ship?” she asked.

“Nathing, my leddie, nathing,” answered Sandy, shuddering. “What could I tell but that she might be a pirate or an enemy in disguise, or some ill-doer, and that if I, the factor of Lunnasting, was entrapped on board, I might be retained as a hostage in durance vile, till sic times as a heavy sum might be collected for my ransom.”

A gleam flitted across Miss Wardhill’s countenance, as she replied: “You estimate yourself somewhat highly, factor. Then, in truth, you know nothing of the ship which has anchored in the Sound?”

“Nathing whatever, my leddie,” was the answer. “But I await the return of Jock Busta’s boat which I despatched as soon as I 

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