MELROSE 101 



A year had rolled on since this my first excursion 

 to the North, and I, Harry Otter, was again seated 

 in an open vehicle, enriched with fishing rods, both 

 of small and of ample dimensions ; I must say 

 exceedingly ample. The stanch Arno lay at my 

 feet ; nor was I deficient in a gun, such as Manton 

 used to turn out in that age of flint. My attendant, 

 or groom, was of the freshest fashion a youth 

 newly hired. John, who was whilom in my service, 

 understood the arts of travelling better than this 

 man. But, alas ! John was a backslider ; for when 

 I asked him if he had any objection to go to Scot- 

 land, " Pray, sir/' said he, " is that the country as 

 is infested with eagles ? '' I candidly confessed that 

 there certainly were birds of that description there. 

 ' Then, I am sorry, sir, but I must beg leave to 

 decline going/' was his valorous reply. 



Tedious it were to recount the dawdling of a long 

 journey performed by the same man and the same 

 horses. I will not therefore utter such an infliction. 

 It is quite enough to say, that in the end I ensconced 

 myself in an hostel in the little town of Melrose : inn, 

 properly so called, there was none, for Melrose was 

 then unsung. It was late, and I looked forth on the 

 tranquil scene from my window. The moonbeams 

 played upon the distant hill-tops, but the lower 

 masses slept as yet in shadow ; again the. pale light 

 catched the waters of the Tweed, the lapse of whose 

 streams fell faintly on the ear, like the murmuring 

 of a sea-shell. In front rose up the mouldering 

 abbey, deep in shadow ; its pinnacles, and but- 

 tresses, and light tracery, but dimly seen in the 



