"Heaven sain us," said Andrew, quickly departing.
"Have a glass of spirits, my lad—whisky, or brandy, or what?"
"Whisky, please your honour."
"There you are," said the Captain, filling him a glass.
"Your healths, sirs," draining the glass and smacking his lips—"that's the rale gude stuff."
"Take another glass—and look you here, you know Cessford's Peel?"
"Ay, sir, seeven mile, or thereby, sou-east o' the Towers."
"Exactly; ride there to-night, and give this note to the old man; stay for an answer, and meet me to-morrow with it in the Holly Walk, at two. Do not keep me waiting, on your life,—and breathe not a word of this to living soul, or, by Heaven, I would not be you!"
"Nae fears, your secret is safe with me."
"And there is for your trouble," said the Captain, dropping some gold into his hand; "and now begone, and remember two o'clock!"