XXII.—[Dandy Dreghorn]
XXIII.—[Ernestine and Gabrielle]
XXIV.—[Probability of escaping, and leaving my Heart behind me]
XXV.—[A serious Mistake, and a learned Discussion on Women]
XXVI.—[The Scout, and the Effect of a Sneeze]
XXVII.—[The March towards Lauenburg]
XXVIII.—[Count Tilly's Opinion of the Presbyterians]
XXIX.—[Cairn na Cuimhne!]
XXX.—[The Jesuit]
XXXI.—[Of the Good Deeds our Musketeers were undoing]
Book the Sixth.
XXXII.—[The Merodeurs]
XXXIII.—[The Hunter's Cot]
XXXIV.—[I obtain a Company of Musketeers]
XXXV.—[Proteus again!]
XXXVI.—[A Forest on Fire]
XXXVII.—[The Prisoners of the Pistoliers]
Book the Seventh.
XXXVIII.—[The Pass of Oldenburg]
XXXIX.—[The Night of Horrors at Heilinghafen]
XL.—[We sail for the Isles of Denmark]
XLI.—[On Board the good ship Anna Catharina]
XLII.—[The Rittersaal]
XLIII.—[March for the Castle of Nyekiöbing]
INTRODUCTION.
At a sale of the effects of an eminent antiquary lately deceased, it was our happiness and good fortune to become the possessor of a certain little MS. volume, closely written, in a neat small hand of the 17th century. It is very thick, contains nearly a thousand pages, is bound in black leather, and is fastened by two brass clasps. On the title-page was written, "The Storie of my Lyffe, concludit to this year 1660."
On examining our literary and antiquarian treasure, which we did with ardour, we found that it was the adventures of a Scottish gentleman, of that stirring period indicated by the date, who had served for a time, as a soldier of fortune, in the armies of Denmark. We found the book interesting, from the glimpses of wild adventure, hair-breadth escapes, high military courage, and raciness it exhibited; thus, the more we read, the more pleased did we become.
Philip Rollo, for such was the name of the writer, seemed to be beside us relating his own startling adventures; and we were upon the point of handing over the MS. to our enterprising friends of the Bannatyne Club, when, lo! we discovered that there were two serious gaps in it. Though having little doubt that the archaeologists would gladly publish these curious memoirs even in their mutilated state, we preferred to restore the thread of the narrative, so far as we could do so, from the quaint pages of the Amsterdam Courant, the Swedish Intelligencer, the warlike story of Colonel Monro and others, and, after modernising the spelling and language of the whole, so as to make it more generally readable, handed over our transcript to our friend Mr. Routledge, of London.