CHAPTER IX. Paint Scotland greeting ower her thrissle, Seizing a stell; Triumphant crushing't like a mussell, Or lampit shell. BURNS. DURING the period of Mr Bertram's ac tive magistracy, he did not forget the affairs of the revenue. Smuggling, for which the Isle of Man then afforded peculiar facilities, was general, or rather universal, all along the south-western coast of Scotland. Almost all the common people were engaged in these practices, the gentry connived at them, and the officers of the revenue were frequently discountenanced in the exercise of their duty, by those who should have protected them. There was, at this period, employed as a riding officer or supervisor, in that part of the country, a certain Francis Kennedy, already, named in our narrative; a stout, resolute, and active man, who had made seizures to a great amount, and was proportionally hated by those who had an interest in the fair-trade, as they called these contraband adventurers. This person was natural son to a gentleman of good family, owing to which circumstance, and to his being of a jolly convivial disposition, and singing a good song, he was admitted to the occasional society of the gentlemen of the country, and was a member of several of their clubs for practising athletic games, at which he was particularly expert. At Ellangowan, Kennedy was a frequent and always an acceptable guest, His vivacity relieved Mr Bertram of the trouble of thought, and the labour which it cost him to support a detailed communication of ideas; while the daring and dangerous exploits which he had undertaken in the discharge of his office, formed excellent conversation. To all these revenue adventures did the Laird of Ellangowan seriously incline, and the amusement which he derived from his society formed an excellent reason for countenancing and assisting the narrator in the execution of his invidious and hazardous duty... "Frank Kennedy," he said, "was a gentleman, though on the wrong side of the blanket-he was connected with the family of Ellangowan through the house of Glengubble. The last Laird of Glengubble would have brought the estate into the Ellangowan line, but happening to go to Harrigate, he there met with Miss Jean Hadaway-by the bye, the Green Dragon at Harrigate is the best house of the two-but for Frank Kennedy, he's in one sense a gentleman born, and it's a shame not to support him against these blackguard smugglers." After this league had taken place be tween judgement and execution, it chanced that Captain Dirk Hatteraick had landed a cargo of spirits, and other contraband goods, upon the beach not far from Ellangowan, and, confiding in the indifference with which the Laird had formerly regarded similar infractions of the law, he was neither very anxious to conceal nor to expedite the transaction. The consequence was, that Mr Frank Kennedy, armed with a warrant from Ellangowan, and supported by some of the Laird's people who knew the country, and by a party of military, poured down upon the kegs, bales, and bags, and, after a desperate affray, in which severe wounds were given and received, succeeded in clapping the broad arrow upon the articles, and bearing them off in triumph to the next custom-house. Dirk Hatteraick vowed, in Dutch, German, and English, a deep and full revenge, both against the gauger and his abettors; and all who knew him thought it likely he would keep his word. A few days after the departure of the gypsy tribe, Mr Bertram asked his lady one morning at breakfast, whether this was not little Harry's birth-day? "Five years old exactly, this blessed. day," answered the lady; "so we may look into the English gentleman's paper." Mr Bertram liked to show his authority "No, my dear, not till to-mor in trifles. row. The last time I was at quarter sessions the sheriff told us, that dies-that dies inceptus-in short, you don't understand Latin, but it means that a term day is not begun till it's ended." "That sounds like nonsense, my dear." "May be so, my dear; but it may be very good law for all that. I am sure, speaking of term days, I wish, as Frank Kennedy says, that Whitsunday would kill Martinmas, and be hanged for the murder for there I have got a letter about that interest of Jenny Cairns's, and deil a tenant's been at the Place yet. wi' a boddle of rent,-nor will not till Can |